CHAPTER 3

 

Tehvay awoke, sat up on her bunk and stared at the far wall. She had forgotten the tedium of being a slave with nothing to do. Before her freedom it would have been a welcome relief to have nothing to do, but after discovering the joys of reading, watching vids, talking to friends or even just going for a walk, this down time dragged. It was a welcome relief when she heard her owner's arrival.

She came out of her cell to seek out her owner and found the aloyd in the dining room standing by the food dispenser. "Are you hungry?" the aloyd asked Tehvay.

The slave was thrown by the question, but she knew better than not to answer. "Uh… yes, Aloyd Karthen."

"What do you want? There's not much of a selection, just basic ship rations."

It felt unnatural, and more than a little uncomfortable, for the slave to be waited on by her owner. Tehvay surprised herself and rushed forward. "Shouldn't I do the serving?"

"It has been a long time since I have had a slave to serve me," the aloyd said, seemingly embarrassed by Tehvay's offer.

They clumsily avoided touching each other as they switched positions in the narrow confines of the galley. Tehvay picked up the tray of food that the aloyd had already prepared for herself and took it to the table where Aloyd Karthen was now sitting.

"We weren't allowed slaves at the Academy," the aloyd explained. "And it's been many months since I have been to the family home." Aloyd Karthen broke the seal on her serving. "You may get your meal now."

"Thank you, Aloyd Karthen."

Tehvay returned to the food dispenser, made her selection, and pushed a button. Thirty seconds later a plastic tray containing a grey sludge that claimed to be a fish based protein dinner was served. She picked it up and started back towards her cell.

"Stay. Sit here," said the aloyd, directing the slave to sit at the table.

This felt wrong to Tehvay. She had started to come to terms with slavery again, and slaves don't eat at the owner's table, let alone with the owner. Despite this, Tehvay obeyed without comment and set her tray down at the opposite end of the rectangular table.

"No, sit here, next to me."

Tehvay momentarily froze. Every fibre of her being was telling her to be wary of her new owner's intentions. Yet, while the aloyd's behaviour seemed unorthodox, there was no malice in her command. So, Tehvay picked up her tray again and moved to a chair next to the aloyd.

"I see you went for the fish," noted her owner. "I have the vegetable stew."

Tehvay glanced at the contents of both trays. The food looked the same to Tehvay. The standard food dispenser created the selected meal from a store of protein that was constructed into the desired dish, injected with synthesised flavours, inserted into a tray that quickly heated the meal to the correct temperature, and kept it warm while being eaten. Hence the generic look to all meals.

"The fish is palatable but not like the real thing," continued the aloyd. "Have you ever had real fish?"

Tehvay had to stop herself from laughing at the ridiculous question. "No, Aloyd Karthen."

Tehvay was pleasantly surprised by the taste of the meal, even if it did look unappetising. If these are basic ship rations and she thinks it merely palatable, what is she used to?

The two were silent for the remainder of the meal.

"You shall have some when we get to Gatlor," the aloyd announced when Tehvay had eaten all she could of the grey sludge on her tray.

"Pardon, Aloyd Karthen?"

"Some real fish."

"Thank you, Aloyd Karthen." Tehvay did not know what else to say.

"I am… I am pleased that you're behaving like a proper slave now. Your period of freedom had damaged you, but it seems it is not irreparable."

Tehvay felt the sting of her owner's observation. She had never been a slave to an Elit before. Are they all this socially inept? she wondered.

After a moment, Aloyd Karthen said. "Tell me about yourself."

"About me?" That shocked Tehvay; no owner had ever asked her to talk about herself before. Tehvay didn't know if she should be suspicious or flattered. "Uh, what do you want to know?"

"Well for a start, how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

The aloyd nodded. "I am twenty-seven. I will be twenty-eight in nine months time."

"You don't do this very often, do you?" Tehvay asked, supressing a smile. On reflection she thought she should have supressed the question, but the aloyd appeared not to notice the indiscretion.

"Do what?"

"Talk to people," Tehvay clarified. If she wants to know, I'll tell her.

"I talk to people a lot."

"I mean in a one-to-one private conversation like this."

"No," the aloyd admitted. "But you're not a person; you're a slave."

Tehvay had reached her limit of playing the docile slave. If this aloyd wanted to ask blunt questions, she was going to give blunt answers.

"No. I am a person who happens to be a slave. But you're not talking to me like I'm a slave. You're talking to me like I'm a person."

"I am? How did your previous owners talk to you?"

"They didn't… Certainly not how you're doing it now."

"Oh."   

Tehvay noticed the aloyd's cheeks blush for the smallest fraction of a second.

"There is something I would like you to answer for me," her owner continued.

"Yes, Aloyd Karthen?"

"How did you escape from slavery?"

This was a little unusual to Tehvay. No owner asked personal questions, but if Aloyd Karthen want to know, Tehvay would tell her. "My last owner was Faelene Gallish."

"I have heard that name. Gallish Communications. She was murdered about four years ago."

"That's her. The darling of the business world, a Fethusal privateer taking on the might of the Elit owned companies. All smiles and charm for the press, but a vicious scheming bitch in private. I was with her for three years. She won me in a card game believe it or not. That was how she did business, playing the odds. She gambled and won. A lot.

"Then she crossed the wrong person. I won't name names because I owe the man a great deal. He runs a…" Tehvay paused, not wanting to reveal details of her saviour. "Let's just say he has a code of honour. Gallish didn't.

"When he discovered she was setting him up to take a fall for something that she'd done, he killed her."

"And you were a witness to this?"

"Yes, I was there. She knew he was coming to see her, and that he'd be angry, though I doubt she was expecting to get murdered. I was a sweetener to keep him happy. 'Fuck the slave senseless,' she told him. 'Beat it, kill it, anything you want.' She was more than willing to sacrifice me to save herself, but he was having none of it."

Tehvay watched the expression on the aloyd's face as she told her the story. Aloyd Karthen appeared shocked at what Tehvay was describing.

"This man, he was the one that freed you?"

"Yes. He took me with him. He got me a new identity. Gave me some work. Taught me to stand up for myself. He taught me how to live as a freeborn person. He demanded nothing in return. I gave him loyalty; that was all he took from me." It hurt Tehvay to talk of Boran. He was a kind and gentle man – more like Tehvay imagined a father would be. She felt tears well up as she realised she would never see him again.

"How did you get caught?"

"I was on Kalenth to do a job for him, and while there, I just happened to bump into someone who used to work for Gallish. He saw that I wasn't in slave clothes anymore and called the authorities."

"This man you were working for, he didn't try to get you out of prison?"

"I knew the risks. There was a small chance some automated system might recognise me as a fugitive slave. I didn't expect it to be a person. I was just thankful my friend was not with me when I was caught."

"Oh. I didn't realise slaves had friends."

Tehvay made sure she was calm before responding. "I told you, I'm a person. Just like you."

"Don't be ridiculous! You're not like me!" the aloyd said incredulously. "I am Elit. You're a slave. Never mistake the two as being alike."

"Yes, Aloyd Karthen." Tehvay had thought better of arguing the point, and cleared the table without further comment.

"Would you bring me a glass of water?" Aloyd Karthen asked.

Tehvay pushed a button on the food dispenser and filled a glass with water while the aloyd moved from the table to a sitting area on the other side of the room.

Tehvay handed her owner the glass of water. Aloyd Karthen retrieved a red tablet from her breast pocket and took the pill with the water, and drank until the glass was empty.

"Do you require anything else, Aloyd Karthen?"

"No, but I do have more questions. Have a seat."

Have a seat? Tehvay thought. Her previous owners required her to do many things, but sitting down and having a casual conversation was never one of them. Tehvay complied and sat in the chair opposite her owner.

"What else would you like to ask me, Aloyd Karthen?"

"Do you have family?"

"No – none that I know of, at least. I assume I was born at a slave hostel."

"Ah yes, of course."

Most, though not all, slaves came from a breeding population that were maintained in slave hostels. Slave hostels were also where slaves without owners were kept. This included children born of slaves, who were taken from their mothers at birth and raised in a childcare collective until the age of five. At five, a slave child was sold to individual owners for training, or farmed out to work in factories, mines, or other industries.

"Records are kept of a slave's parentage," continued Tehvay, "but we are the last ones who'd be allowed access to them."

If Tehvay had been surprised by the aloyd's questioning before, she was truly stunned by what her owner said next.

"I feel sympathy for you. It must have been hard growing up without a family – a heritage. To the Elit, they are everything."

A silence fell and grew longer, before it became awkward Tehvay filled it. "May I ask you a few questions?"

"I suppose so. What do you want to know?"

"What made you join the military?"

"Because it was my turn," the aloyd said simply.

"What? Your turn? I don't understand," Tehvay replied.

"The Elit are business people, politicians, artists, soldiers, scientists, diplomats, judges – the cream of society," Karthen explained. "Each family is equally responsible for The Hegemony. My role in life was pre-ordained. My elder brother is a director of Karthen-Willenth Pharmaceuticals. If I had a younger sibling then they would have become a musician. As it is, that role will fall to my brother's first born."

"So you had no choice?" asked Tehvay.

"No."

"What would you like to do?"

"I don't understand."

"If you had a choice, what would you like to do?"

"That is irrelevant," her owner replied. "There was no choice. My whole life has been preparing me for this. To go against years of training, centuries of tradition, makes no sense."

"You're more of a slave than I am," Tehvay concluded.

The aloyd bristled at the suggestion. "Nonsense. I have free will."

"No, you don't."

"What do you mean?" Aloyd Karthen seemed more confused than insulted.

"You didn't choose to go into the military; it was chosen for you. And you've accepted your lot in life without question." Now I understand why she finds it so hard to comprehend that I won't accept mine, Tehvay thought.

Aloyd Karthen said nothing for a bit and then she finally replied, "Paint."

"Huh?"

"Paint. I enjoy art. Painting in particular. I would have liked to have been an artist."

"Do you paint in your spare time?"

"No. I have had no training in it. I have only learnt about art appreciation and history, not how to create it."

"Is there a painter in your family?"

"My cousin, Trin'hale. She used to ask me to pose for her when I was a child. She isn't very good at portraits, if I am honest."

"If you don't paint, what do you do in your spare time?"

"Read. Watch vids. Keep fit."

"Vids? I can't imagine you watching vids," Tehvay replied.

"Why not?"

Tehvay couldn't tell the aloyd that she thought her a stuck up, humourless, inbred idiot, so she skirted replying to the question and asked another. "What vids do you like?"

"I am particularly interested in history, science, art. I even watch some dramas. What do you do in your free time?" the aloyd asked.

"I'm a slave; I don't have free anything."

"Of course, I apologise."

That's a first, thought Tehvay. An owner had never apologised to her before.

"Can you read?" her owner asked.

"Yes."

"I could let you have something to read for when you're in your cell. Or I could get a vid player for you and you can watch something."

"I… That… Thank you. I…" Tehvay coughed and blinked back tears. "Thank you, Aloyd Karthen. No owner has ever done that for me before."

"You intrigue me, Tehvay. I know you do not wish to serve me and that it's the lesser of two evils for you. So I want to make your servitude bearable. For both of us."

"Yes, Aloyd Karthen."

The aloyd got up from the chair, and Tehvay immediately rose to her feet without thinking.

"Well, this has been an interesting conversation," Aloyd Karthen said. "You may go into my bedroom and take the book reader on the cabinet and then go to your cell. I will expect you at 06:00 tomorrow."

~~~~

Argos station orbited a moon in an uninhabited system that no one wanted to claim; hence it served as perfect neutral point for trade, not just into and out of The Hegemony, but also between the independent systems of the Graelands and other empires outside The Hegemony borders.

Pan Willam looked at the young woman tagging along behind Hila and gave the captain a questioning look.

"This is Kami," said Hila.

"Kamina," Kamina corrected her.

Hila smiled inwardly at the automatic correction. Hila knew that Kamina was not fond of being called 'Kami' now that she was grown up. But Hila had known her for six years, and in her eyes she was still the scrawny kid called Kami that her friends, the Dortmers, had adopted. At some subconscious level it helped Hila not to think of the woman that Kamina had become. 

"Nice to meet you, Kamina," said Pan. She turned her attention back to Hila. "Andantian power cells: six thousand units, one hundred units a crate. Here's the paperwork."

Hila took the electronic documents and passed them to Kamina.

"What do I do with this?" asked Kamina, taking the documents.

"Make sure there's a power unit for every item on the manifest and get it in the cargo hold."

"But that'll take—"

"A lot quicker if you start it now. I'll be along to help soon."

"Aye, captain," Kamina saluted and flashed smile.

Hila was pleased to see the smile, the misunderstanding over the bracelet seemed to be behind them.

After a brief catch up with Pan, Hila went back to help Kamina.

The cargo was loaded and the paperwork in order, but Hila was not ready to leave just yet. Argos station's unique location offered the opportunity to purchase things that might not be available elsewhere – or at least not available for the right price.

"What are you going get?" asked Kamina as she and Hila left the airlock.

"I don't know. We'll see what's on offer."

They headed towards the market, but didn't get far. A woman stood in the middle of the corridor, hands on hips, a slight smile curled her lips.

"Like a bargain, do you?" she said.

"What's it to you?" Hila asked. The space-wise freighter captain sized the stranger up.

The young woman was a little shorter than Hila, with light brown skin and long dark hair tied loosely in a ponytail. What Hila took notice of the most was the big IPB on the woman's hip and the uniform. The woman was obviously from some security force, but not the station's force.

"Your ship?" the woman nodded to the airlock. "Don't see many of those around these days."

"There are enough of them about." Hila surmised the officer was trying to pin something on her.

"Do much trading around here? Or in the Trengos system?"

Hila took a step closer to the officer. "Never been to Trengos. If that's where you're from, then that means you're out of your jurisdiction."

The officer took a step closer to Hila and leaned forward. "Don't tell anyone," she whispered, "but where I come from, I don't need to worry about that. Especially on this station, which has a little agreement with us. See if I need to come here and drag someone back to face justice, I can." She straightened up and spoke at normal volume. "As it is, me and my partner have a full complement of prisoners, so count yourself lucky today."

"If I'm ever in the Trengos system and feel like getting arrested, who should I ask for?"

"Officer Rikana Lardis, Dansek Security," said the officer. "But don't worry Llyte, I know who you are. I'll be waiting." Lardis turned on her heels and walked away,

"What's her problem?" asked Kamina.

"Cops, they're all the same everywhere." Hila turned and flashed a smile at the young woman. "Come on, let's go shopping."

"Have you ever been to Trengos?"

"No. Too far into the Graelands."

"How'd she know your name?"

"Probably asked around the station. Come on, she's not a problem to worry about."

~~~~

Rikana heard voices from the comm as she closed the airlock behind her. Her partner, Yuniph Veilan was hunched over the comm screen. Her long blonde hair fell forward almost obscuring her face; she tucked it back behind her ears.

She walked up behind Yuniph and looked down at the screen and saw Yuniph's parents: Asta, her mother and Pallin, her father. She raised a hand to the faces on the screen. "Hey, Mrs V., Mr V."

"Hello, Rikana," they chorused back.

Rikana stepped back and slumped into a nearby chair and watched the rest of the conversation.

"When will you be home?" asked Asta.

Yuniph frowned and rubbed her temples. "We should be leaving soon and it's a twelve day trip."

"I've got some chebol growing in the garden," said Pallin. "Should be perfect for your mother to make your favourite dish for when you get back."

"That'll be lovely." Yuniph raised a smile. "We've got to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Same time?"

"We'll be here," said Pallin.

"Bye, Yuni," said Asta.

"Bye."

Yuniph terminated the call and stood up.

Rikana was not the most sensitive of persons, but noticed that her partner was a little subdued. "You okay?"

"Just tired. Bit of a headache." Yuniph looked at her partner and raised an eyebrow. "Don't start worrying about me now or I might suspect you've been replaced by a look-a-like."

Rikana cackled. "How are our passengers?" she asked.

"Locked up tight," said Yuniph.

"Good."

Yuniph set her chair tidily under the desk. "I'm going for a lie down – try and get some sleep. Will you get us out of here?"

"Sure."

Yuniph headed towards her cabin as Rikana headed towards the cockpit.

"Oh, and Rikana!" Yuniph stopped and looked back.

"What?"

"Leave the prisoners alone."

"I ain't going to touch them."

"Don't talk to them, either."

Rikana Lardis shook her head. "No fun," she muttered under her breath as she headed for the cockpit.

As the ship undocked, she cast a look out of the window to the ship docked at the next gantry. One 'Hila Llyte' owned it – a false name if ever she heard one, but not a name she had seen on any warrant or suspect list. The ship, however, was the same make as a slave raider ship seen in the Trengos system a few months ago.

There was no agreement to search ships or detain anyone without a warrant on Argos station, but Rikana had been half tempted to ignore that. She knew her partner would kick up a fuss about it not being regulation. So as much as she would have wanted to question Llyte further, she reluctantly let it go and took the ship's helm.

Thirty minutes, she thought. Veilan will be asleep and I can go and taunt the prisoners.

Rikana settled back and counted the minutes.

~~~~

On the fifth day of the nine-day journey to Gatlor, Kikola visited the sickbay on the Sword. She had been noticing some unusual changes in her eating and sleeping patterns the last couple of days – changes for which she could not account.

Kikola lay still as the medical sensors scanned her. The doctor impassively examined the results on his monitor, and then set the device to re-scan Kikola's entire body one more time. The results were the same.

"According to this, you are in perfect health, Aloyd Karthen," said Doctor Catilol. "So why am I seeing you today?"

"I have been experiencing a slight loss of appetite and trouble sleeping," Kikola replied.

"How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?"

"The last fifty hours or so."

"Hmm," the doctor replied studiously. "There are no viral or bacterial infections, your muscle implants are in perfect condition; however, I see that you are taking diproxaline. That can have similar side effects if you miss a dose or the dosage of the pills is incorrect. Have you missed a dose?"

"No."

"I see you acquired the last lot on Kalenth."

"I have always got them from the family doctor."

"Have you had these symptoms before?"

"No."

"I ran tests on your adrenal system. You androgen levels are slightly elevated, which in turn increases the levels of testosterone, but they are within acceptable levels for a female of childbearing age. Since you are taking diproxaline, however, this is an anomaly. I cannot say what is causing it; however, I could increase the dosage to one tablet twice daily and that should lower your androgen levels and reset your libido back to a dormant state. Before I do that though, I am required to have you confirm the authorisation that says you voluntarily agree to take diproxaline to suppress your sex drive, and in doing so understand that it will affect your ability to conceive a child within three years of stopping the drug."

Kikola had no intention of procreating, and sex without procreation was irrelevant, or so she had believed. "Let me sleep on it."

Kikola left the sickbay and headed back to the Conqueror to conduct official business privately.

She went straight to her ready room and turned on the comm. She entered an encryption code to ensure that the conversation would be on a high security frequency.

A cube of bright white light sprung out of the screen, faded and coalesced into the three dimensional features of a man. He smiled and said, "Greetings Kikola. Or should I address you as Aloyd Karthen now?"

"Greetings to you Peltric. This is business, but we are family."

Peltric's smile widened for a moment, though it was hard to see behind his beard. "I received a communication from The Council that I was to expect a striker group. I am pleased to see it is you in command."

"Yes, I have been dispatched to Gatlor to suppress dissident activity. I am four days from Gatlor. I have yet to receive an intelligence update."

"It seems a trivial matter for The Council to take such action. So far there's not much of a threat – mostly people handing out propaganda leaflets. Kids some of them. The most serious incident was this morning when they attempted to hijack a news broadcast."

"That sounds more than trivial."

"Their hack was stopped after a few seconds. They barely had time to complete a sentence, let alone get their message across."

"I have my orders," Kikola said sombrely. "I am on my way to put a stop to them. I expect you to have enough intelligence information for me to complete my mission."

"Fine. I will check in with my agents and report back to you," the Governor of Gatlor acknowledged. "May I tell Trin'hale that you are coming? She will be so pleased to see you."

"Yes, though I can only visit for a few hours. I am coming on official business, after all."

"Of course," Peltric said. "But Trin'hale will be very put out if you do not at least stay for dinner."

"We will have to see. I will contact you when we are in Gatlor airspace. Karthen out."    

~~~~

Two days away from the destination, Commodore Heln invited Kikola to dinner and she accepted. While it was not something she was looking forward to, it prevented yet another evening in her quarters with her slave. Most evenings Kikola would order Tehvay to her cell early so she could be alone, but then Kikola would find herself more acutely aware of the slave's absence.

Captain Eadmon and Captain Wurth had also been invited and the four sat around the table making polite small talk, while the ship's slaves served the food. Most senior ranking officers had personal slaves, but only aloyds were permitted personal slaves while aboard ship. Instead, most large ships had a set of slaves for the menial tasks on board.

During the meal Kikola was bored by the small talk and let her mind wander.

"What is the status of our mission, Aloyd?"

Commodore Heln's question brought Kikola's focus back to the table.

"There are no definite suspects yet, but the investigation is progressing."

There was a barely audible disdainful exhalation of air from Captain Eadmon.

"You have something to say, Captain?" asked Kikola.

"This seems to be a complete waste of our time. It sounds like nothing more than a few individuals spouting nonsense that no one is paying attention to. It doesn't warrant military intervention, local security could deal with the matter."

"What you think is irrelevant. You're only here to obey my orders."

"I am merely offering my opinion, Aloyd." The words may have been conciliatory, but the tone and hard set to Eadmon's features suggested otherwise. "It's not for us to disobey orders," she continued. "However we must be sure the orders are justified and reasonable."

"What do you mean?" asked Kikola.

"The Council gave you orders based on information they had. You give us orders based on those orders. We give orders to our crew based on your orders. When there is that level of distance between the evidence and the order, it is reasonable to assume that there may be some questioning."

"The Council are Elit. I am Elit. That should be good enough."

"This may come as a shock to you, Aloyd," said Eadmon. "But most people are not that trusting. And did you not say that we could ask for clarification of your orders in private?"

Eadmon's words struck a chord with Kikola. Tehvay had commented that Kikola was too accepting of her position, that she never questioned anything she had been taught. Kikola was starting to realise that the slave may have been right.

"I did," Kikola admitted. "However I have given you all the information I have. No new information has come to light as yet. Under such circumstances, orders still stand. When further evidence is forthcoming, the situation will be reviewed and, if necessary, new orders will be given."

"Very well, Aloyd." This time Eadmon's words sounded more conciliatory.

"More wine, anybody?" asked Heln, trying to ease the tension.

Kikola regarded the Commodore. While Eadmon was direct and Kikola didn't fully trust her, Heln was an enigma. He seemed jovial in private, competent in command, and never gave Kikola cause for doubt about his loyalty, yet she sensed he was as just as cynical as Eadmon, only he had the sense to keep his mouth shut.

The one she understood the least was Wurth. His face always remained passive, his eyes giving nothing away. As captain of her personal cruiser, she felt she should make an effort to get to know him, but he gave no inclination that he wanted to get to know her. Their conversations had always been purely professional and during all the small talk over dinner he had contributed as little as Kikola had.

Kikola was aware of the slave to her right that had come to take away her plate. As the plate was lifted Kikola heard the sound of metal slipping against the porcelain. Her left hand moved quickly and grabbed the fork before it landed on her right arm. She held it out for the slave to take, but the slave was staring at her arm. A tiny drop of sauce had dripped from the utensil onto her sleeve. The slave slipped to its knees and bowed its head.

"I'm so sorry, Aloyd," it apologised in a quivering voice.

"What are you doing?" asked Kikola. "Stand up."

"Aren't you going to punish it?" asked Eadmon.

"Why would I do that?"

"It dropped the fork."

"That was an accident."

"There is sauce on your sleeve."

Kikola wiped the sauce away. "A tiny spot. See? It's gone." She turned to look at the slave again. It was still kneeling. "Stand up," she told it. "Take the fork and… go do whatever you were going to do."

"Yes, Aloyd. Thank you, Aloyd."

The slave took the fork and hurried away.

The captain of the Crusade had a disapproving look.

"You have something to say, Captain?"

"That could be considered a sign of weakness," said Eadmon.

"How is it weak to not punish a slave? It did nothing wrong."

"It made a mistake. Surely that deserves punishment?"

"The Elit do not beat their slaves."

Eadmon paused before replying. "I said 'punish', not 'beat'. Why would you think I meant that?"

"My new slave mentioned that it had been beaten by previous owners for minor infractions."

"You are taking guidance from a slave now?"

"I am Elit. I am an aloyd. I decide what I do. If I decide not to punish a slave, you will not question me. Remember your training, Captain."

"Why don't we get back to enjoying the meal," said Heln in a placating tone. "Let's not allow a trivial incident to spoil the mood."

"My apologies, Aloyd Karthen." Eadmon bowed her head.

"Good, that's settled," said Heln and signalled for the next course.

~~~~

While her owner was eating a fine dinner made with real food, Tehvay sat alone in her cell picking at a plate of grey sludge as she read a novel. Aloyd Karthen's selection of books were mostly non-fiction. The one fiction book that Tehvay had found and selected was a boring historical fantasy novel. I wish I'd picked 'Doennscherr's Study of Late Middle Period Chanier Pottery' instead, thought Tehvay as she put the book reader down.

Aloyd Karthen had sent her to her cell early most nights. While this would have been a most welcome thing in the past, now it caused an odd feeling in Tehvay. She found herself missing Aloyd Karthen's company, even if the aloyd was her owner.

She's a contradiction. She's a soldier, yet her books are mostly about the history of art and culture rather than war. She demanded obedience, yet she asks me to do things rather than orders me.

The aloyd's stern manner had softened and she made attempts to talk to Tehvay, rather than talk at her, as was the case with other owners. But what surprised Tehvay the most was that her owner had made no attempt to abuse her, either verbally or physically, even when Tehvay had tried to provoke her at first.

After four years of freedom Tehvay felt uncomfortable and a little humiliated when she behaved like a slave; standing discreetly against a wall, head down, but eyes on her owner waiting for a signal. Yet when it came to performing a task for the aloyd, whether it was serving her a meal, helping her put on her uniform or even tidying up the bed, Tehvay didn't feel like a slave; Tehvay felt like she was doing a favour for a someone. It all probably stemmed from the fact that Aloyd Karthen was an undemanding owner and almost seemed embarrassed at having Tehvay do anything for her. The aloyd was someone who treated her with a measure of dignity, something no owner had ever done.

I'm almost beginning to like her.

~~~~

It was still early when Aloyd Karthen left the table to return to her quarters. Eadmon loosened her collar and grabbed the bottle of wine to fill up her glass as soon as the door closed behind her superior officer.

Heln took a sip from his own glass and studied the captain over the rim.

"What's up, Garin?" he asked. "Butting heads with an aloyd isn't like you."

She knew Heln was a diplomatic person and not a person of action, like herself. Does he not understand what this mission is? she thought. "I don't like this mission."

"You usually crave action."

"Not against our own people. This isn't an enemy planet we're going to." She turned her attention to Wurth. "Do you know anything more about this that she's not telling us?"

Wurth shook his head. "I know as much as you."

"And are you happy with it?" she pressed.

"We do what we must for the good of The Hegemony," he replied flatly

"Even if it means killing our own?"

"These traitors are the enemy; they are no longer 'our own'."

"Karthen talks about collateral damage; you know that means innocent people, right?"

"If sacrifices must be made, then so be it."

Wurth's even tone provoked Eadmon. "Are you even human?" she blurted out. "I'm all for obeying orders, but I've never been into battle without my conscience. I fought on T'Pasin. My squad was ordered to take a town and we did it, but I cried myself to sleep for a month afterwards."

"Do not assume how I will or will not feel, Captain. Unlike you, I have only been in service during a time of peace. Perhaps I will cry myself to sleep, perhaps not. I see no benefit to worrying about what may or may not happen. However, I believe The Hegemony should send a strong message to any who oppose it. Is that not why we joined the military?"

Spoken like a true Elit wannabe, thought Eadmon with disgust. Like all senior officers, Eadmon was of the Fethusal caste, but a lot of Fethusal saw the military as a way into the Elit, whereas she was career military.

"I'm going back to my ship," she said.

Eadmon grabbed an unopened bottle of wine from a side table, gave a hurried salute and left.

~~~~

Kikola had left the dinner early but did not immediately return to her personal cruiser. She wandered the corridors of the Sword thinking about the slave that had dropped the fork. Or more precisely Eadmon's questioning of her decision to not punish the slave. The Elit may not beat their slaves, but they did mete out other punishments. Some could be considered as bad as a beating and the Elit certainly thought nothing of having a slave put down once it was no longer useful. But for as long as she could remember, Kikola never punished or called for the punishment of a family slave. They were well trained and made very few mistakes. The few mistakes they did make, Kikola never saw as warranting any action. She recalled one incident when a slave made a mistake that Kikola had let slide. It was spotted by another member of the family, and the slave was punished accordingly. When Kikola questioned the punishment, her uncle Toman admonished her for not following the rules regarding slaves.

Kikola thought about the slaves at dinner. She had spent a lot of the meal surreptitiously studying the slaves to see how they acted compared to Tehvay. She could see no difference in their demeanour or actions, but their eyes were dull, seemingly unfocussed as if they were not aware of what they were doing.

Tehvay's eyes aren't dull and unfocussed – they sparkle with intelligence. Tehvay? Kikola pondered. Why am I thinking of her? It! she corrected herself.

Maybe it's because of all that time at the Academy.

Personal slaves were not permitted at the Academy and students were expected to do everything for themselves. During that time Kikola had become used to solitude and privacy. In fact, she preferred it. Even on her frequent trips home, she never called upon a slave to assist her in private. 

I'm just not used to slaves, that's why.

The biggest hurdle for Kikola to overcome was allowing Tehvay to help her to dress in the mornings. Nudity in front of another person who was not a spouse was a taboo among the Elit, though slaves did not count as 'people'. Yet somehow Kikola did not see Tehvay that way, and for all the discomfort she had initially felt, Kikola did not order Tehvay away.

Eventually her feet led Kikola back to her ship and into her quarters. She paused outside Tehvay's cell. Stealthily she opened the door. Tehvay was asleep, curled up on its side. Kikola studied the slumbering features of the slave: its cropped blonde hair, its long legs bent at the knee, the way Tehvay cupped its hands to rest its head more comfortably; the peaceful look on its face as it slept. All of which Kikola found to be strangely alluring.

She almost looks like a normal person.

~~~~

The hum of the Glyndwr was comforting to Hila. It had been her home, her sanctuary, for thirteen years. It was a top of the range light cargo vessel, with emphasis on the 'was'. It had one large hold and a smaller secondary hold on the lower deck. From fore to aft, the upper deck consisted of the cockpit and stairs to the lower deck, the lounge and galley, two bunkrooms, a personal storage area, and the engine control room. It was already pushing forty years old when Hila bought it thirteen years ago, and even though it was solidly built, parts were starting to wear out. But, she knew every greasy corner, every creaky panel and every thrumming strut. For that decade and a bit they had become as one. There had been the occasional guest or passenger, but there was never another crewmember – until Kamina.

Kamina had been a scrawny, scruffy thirteen-year old when Hila first met her. Two of the few people she could call friends, Jarrel and Mirdo Dortmer, had rescued Kamina from the street and adopted her. Over the years she had seen the Dortmers once every couple of months and Kamina had always looked forward to seeing her. Hila surprised herself by looking forward to seeing Kamina, too. Six months ago the Dortmers were killed in an accident, and Kamina decided she wanted to stay with Hila. Hila couldn't say 'no'.

She loved having Kamina around, but the young woman upset the balance of Hila's ordered life. Sometimes it felt as though the ship was no longer hers. The Glyndwr was not very big, they had their own bunkrooms for privacy, but other than that it was difficult to avoid each other. There was a small area outside the cockpit that served the purpose of a lounge. It had a battered old couch, chairs, and an all-purpose table. Like everything else on the ship, the furnishings had seen better days.

Hila looked up from the poor fantasy novel she was reading and stared at Kamina, who had her back to Hila, hunched over a terminal scouring the infogrid for... Hila didn't want to know. Kamina was wearing a short dress that matched the colour of her skin. Hila had done a double take at first, thinking that the young woman was naked. It wasn't a dress that Kamina had worn before. It often amazed Hila how many clothes her sidekick possessed, and the variety of them. Hila normally dressed in her jacket, under which she wore one of her many simple white tank tops, and leather trousers. She saw no need for anything fancy or diverse in her line of work.

"I see you're wearing the bracelet," said Hila, feeling a need to break the silence.

Kamina glanced over her shoulder at Hila and then down at her wrist. "Yeah. It's nice, thanks."

"No longer upset about it being, what did you call it, 'a whore's second hand trinket'?"

"I was… I thought… I thought you went with the prostitute for… you know. I didn't realise you were just negotiating a price for the bracelet."

Hila suddenly felt pinned to her seat. She struggled to think of something to say and cringed as she heard the words coming out of her mouth. "Well… uh, actually…"

Fortunately for Hila, Kamina cut her off. "You did sleep with her!"

"I didn't want to spend too much cash," Hila explained.

"What?"

Something shut down in Hila's brain. She should have kept quiet, but her mouth had other ideas. "I offered some money and sex with me for the bracelet."

Kamina's big eyes got bigger and her dark skin got darker. "You…" she spluttered, "you paid for the bracelet with sex? You prostituted yourself for the bracelet?"

"Well, I wouldn't have put it like that." Hila frantically kicked her brain to say something sensible. "I did it for you. I wanted to get you something nice."

"Well that makes all the difference!" Kamina shouted and stormed off to her bunk.

Oh, fuck! thought Hila.