Date point: 4y 11m 1w 0d AV
Robert was beginning to be able to stand and move about without too much pain. The Gaoians had done a good job stitching him up, and he was grateful for it.
It was impossible to talk to them, unless they were right at the mouth of the mines, in range of the speakers throughout the station, but he still followed the little group of Gaoians everywhere. Everyone traveled in groups here, doing so in the name of safety through numbers.
There was every type of species down in the mines; Gaioians, Vzk’tk, Robalin, Chehnasho and Locayl were just some of the species he’d seen so far.
The Locayl seemed to be at the top of the hierarchy down here. They could be seen taking tools from smaller species, forcing them to leave the particularly rich veins of platinum so that the Locayl would have more ore to get food with, and generally just terrorizing those that they could.
Food was becoming a real problem for Robert as well. He needed far more than the average person down here, and finding any was nearly impossible. The only sure way to get food was to bring ore to the smelters. If you brought enough, they’d give you a ball of something that tasted foul, but was filling enough to leave you satisfied.
It was a brutally efficient system. Any worker who was injured and couldn’t produce a profit died soon after.
His newly made friends had been a lifesaver on that front. Though they were smaller than he was, they were actually fit to do work, and they shared the ore that they had collected. They didn’t have much, and it took nearly a day for Robert to have enough for a meal.
They seemed to be trying their hardest to get him back onto his feet.
Robert wasn’t stupid, he knew they expected repayment at some point down the line, but he hardly had any alternatives at this point. He just wished he was able to talk to them. They sounded like they were always babbling in Chinese.
This morning, Robert stood by his companions, weakly swinging a rock pick at a wall, barely making a scratch. After trying to help the one called Tricko lift what looked like a pulse driven jackhammer, he’d nearly split his stitches and been waved off.
As he continued his fruitless chipping at the wall while all four of them together used the jackhammer, a guard walked over them along the catwalk.
Making an unintelligible noise in a different language, causing Robert to look up, he pointed in the direction of one of the mine exits.
The Gaoians, having been able to understand the guard, looked at Robert and began chittering in their odd language.
Getting the gist of the message, he began to slowly walk through the tunnels of the mine.
Perhaps five minutes later he came to the front entrance where he had first been dropped down from. Standing on the platform were maybe a dozen guards carrying their large pulse rifles. There were also several guards along high perches manning much larger pulse rifles that were mounted into heavy steel bases, likely to put down riots quickly.
While slowly walking up the stairs, one of the guards spoke to him in words he understood, “Captain Kingruta wants to speak to you.”
“Have I done some-?”
“You will not ask me questions, slave!”
“…I understand.”
After placing chains on his wrists, while the guards had their weapons pointed at him, they brought him to the same hangar that he’d first seen the Captain in. A chain was hanging down from the ceiling, and they locked his wrists to it, and another chain that was bolted into the floor around his ankles.
No sooner than the locks had clicked, Robert was suddenly jerked a foot off the ground, arms pulled above his head and causing several of his stitches to tear painfully into his wounds. Crying out miserably, he felt blood begin to trickle down his back again.
“Hello again, human.”
It was the Chehnasho Captain again, sounding very enthusiastic to see him; possibly coming to gloat over Robert’s injuries and discomfort.
“How have you been enjoying your new home?”
Robert gave no response, choosing only to stare with rage at the alien.
After he gave a curt nod to someone behind Robert, Robert felt as though fire was pouring through him as an electrical current was run through the manacles on his wrists down into the chain on his feet.
“Let’s try that again. How have you been enjoying your new home?”
Panting heavily, he said, “The hospitality leaves a little bit to be desired.”
He wasn’t going to let the amphibian bully him like this; he’d had worse things than some electrical shocks done to him.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe it would be more agreeable to you if you could talk to some of those Gaoians I’ve heard about?”
Freezing, he looked at the alien, saying nothing.
“I could give you a translator implant. Would you like that? It would be easy. Just a minute or two, and you can talk to anyone you like down there.”
Sure that the price was going to be high for such a thing, Robert said nothing.
“You’d only have to do one small thing for me, human. Just a tiny little thing. It won’t even tire you out.”
“…What do you want?”
“I want you to call me ‘Master’ from now on. If I give you the implant, and you disrespect me by calling me by anything else, I’ll have the implant torn out. I promise it will not be as painless as having it placed.”
The Chehnasho is asking me to give up my humanity and become an animal for a translator, thought Robert.
“Fuck you.”
Fire coursed through his veins again.
His heart was beating hard. Too hard.
The blood was rushing through his brain. It was beating a tattoo through his head.
“We have plenty of time, human. I can be patient.”
Jason pressed the intercom on the control panel.
“Frank get in the suit, I want you guarding the ship. Try to look intimidating. Ted, get your sidearm, I want you ready to come with me and watch my back.”
Not waiting for a response, he broadcast a message to the derelict looking station as he approached.
“This is the human ship Reclamation requesting permission to land, and safe passage to the owner of this station.”
Silence came through for several seconds before, “State your purpose human or you will be destroyed.”
The voice sounded a little unsure of itself, despite its threatening words. Jason figured that the electronic warfare suite he’d turned on was doing its job as well as the radar absorbing hull of the ship. The station couldn’t see him.
“We have a business proposition to the man in charge.”
“…you are cleared for docking, human. If you make a wrong move we will destroy you and your ship.”
Looking at the derelict, Jason considered whether or not he was making a mistake.
“Understood, station.”
Flying into a large hangar that had opened for him, he landed the ship softly upon the metal deck.
Pressing the intercom again, Jason said, “Alright guys, this is it. Stay frosty.”
It felt like it had been ages. The Captain wasn’t even speaking anymore, just staring at the human each time his limbs relaxed.
“Captain, if we keep this up he’s going to expire. Any other slave would have died already.”
“Continue. I have an idea.”
As the human began to twitch and spasm again, the Captain pressed his communicator.
“Bilgrath, get me one of the Gaoians.”
A moment passed before he heard the answer of, “Right away, Captain.”
Several minutes passed while the human hung there panting, tears streaking down his dirty cheeks.
Then the double doors opened, revealing one of the Gaoians that had helped the human after his whipping.
Upon seeing the human, the shocked rodent shouted, “Robert, what have they been doing to you?!”
“Tricko? Why are you here?” It was the first time the human had spoken in hours. He seemed to be nearly delirious.
“Guards.”
Two Chehnasho kicked out Tricko’s knees from behind him and he fell to the floor, gasping in pain.
Walking behind the prisoner, Kingruta drew his sidearm and pointed it at his head.
“Call me ‘Master’, now. If you do, this slave will live, if you do not, he will die. If you refuse to say it after that, I will bring every Gaoian in that mine and kill them in front of you until you do.”
Tricko’s eyes widened in fear and understanding. His life was forfeit unless the human’s will broke. Saying a silent apology to his clan for bringing this misery upon them, Tricko closed his eyes, tears forming.
“I will count to three. One… Tw-”
“No… please, don’t kill him. Don’t kill him… M-Master.”
Silent tears spilled from the human’s eyes.
A slow smile crept across the Chehnasho’s face.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Be careful guys. I don’t like the look of these ugly bastards.”
Frank stood, six and a half feet tall, wearing his exo-suit, plugged into the ship and wielding his seven foot long crow-bar. It seemed Professor Ericson had figured Frank might need one, as he’d deigned to leave that tool with the suit’s accessories. It must have weighed over a hundred pounds, but he was manipulating it like it was a twig, making sure the act was visible to the Locayl watching them.
“Neither do I, Frank. But, we haven’t got any options. If anyone knows where they would have taken the kid, it’ll be these guys.”
Ted spoke to Frank, “Frank, some of them are looking at us with expressions I don’t like. I’m not an expert on Locayl, but they look like they want the ship.”
Thinking quickly, Jason pointed at a thin walled steel container that was about waist high to them.
“Frank, crush that box. Make it loud.”
Without missing a beat, Frank loudly clunked over to the box, lifted it up, and instead of doing as Jason said, and crushing it, Frank gave a tremendous roar and tore the steel crate in half with the sound of screaming steel, spilling what looked like beans on the ground.
Not a single Locayl was looking at them anymore.
“Jesus, Frank, calm the fuck down.”
Rolling his eyes, Frank said, “You said be intimidating.”
“Limits, old man, fuck.”
“Whatever. Jason, if you need me, call me. I bet I could tear half this place apart before my batteries died.”
Chuckling in spite of the situation, Ted said, “I bet you could, old man. Just remember, keep looking intimidating. I’d like to still have my bed when I get back.”
Going still, Frank looked past the two men and said, “They’re coming.”
Four Locayl, around nine or ten feet tall each, four arms to each of them and looking like the color of wet clay were striding towards them. Their weapons were not out, but it looked as though it wouldn’t take much for them to draw them.
Jason gripped his hand held translator that he’d taken from one of the lockers on the Reclamation, and said to one of the Locayl, “Is one of you the man we came to talk to?”
Looking down at him through angled eyes, one of them said, “No. We will take you to Captain Drixian. Follow me.”
With a slightly nervous glance at Frank, but trusting to the knowledge that he and Ted could probably kill several of these Locayl if they had to, Jason followed, Ted just behind him.
Walking through ruined hallways and sections of the station that had lost power, they came to a large door that must have been fifteen feet tall.
“Inside.” grunted one of their escorts.
The door opened and the two men walked through it.
Sitting behind a desk that would have put Moses Byron to shame, was a Locayl with a badly scarred face.
“Gentlemen, I hear you have a business proposition for me. Sit down, please. How can I help you?”
The Captain had been true to his word. Tricko had been taken back to the mines right after Robert had broken.
After being lowered to the ground, Robert had, again, been unable to stand.
“Take him to the medical bay and get his implant put in.”
Looking down at Robert he said, “I’m nothing if not good to my word.”
Turning his attention back to his men, he said, “Get him patched up properly as well. Get those marks on his back cleaned and sealed, and give him some pain killers. I want him ready to work by morning tomorrow.”
Moving to obey, they unhooked Robert from his chains. If he’d been able to use him arms properly he’d have torn them apart, but he couldn’t move them after so long of being suspended by his wrists.
A dozen of them dragged him from the room, towards a nearby medical bay.
One of the Chehnasho guards moved up behind the Captain.
“Sir, don’t you think you may have gone too far with the human? He wouldn’t break to the pain. I’ve never even seen that before. He could be seriously dangerous.”
“Nonsense. I suspect that he will be co-operative from now on, and begin to be a very valuable worker. Keep an eye on him though. I don’t want the wrong kind of attention attributed to him by the other slaves. I will not allow him to become a symbol of hope.”
“Let me get this straight, to make certain that I have the facts of it.”
The ten foot tall Locayl was striding about the room, looking pensive.
“Your crew member was taken by the Rising Plague. Obviously you want him back. So, you come to me, thinking that I would help you, due to my history with the Plague. You want me to tell you where their base of operations is, and where they would have taken your crew member. You also want my help in staging a raid to get him out. Now, have I covered all the details?”
Fidgeting uncomfortably, Jason said, “Yes. You have a good reason to hate them. We want your help.”
Sitting in his chair, the Captain said, “I cannot help you.”
“What? Why the fuck not!?” demanded Ted.
“Ted, calm down!”
“I can’t help you because I do not know their location. I do not know where they would have taken him. I do not have enough ships and men to perform a raid. Even if I did know, and have, all these things, I doubt we’d get into the system without them seeing us and blowing us out of the sky. I cannot help you, human.”
Deflating, Jason said, “Do you know anyone who would know where they are?”
Thinking for a moment, the Locayl said, “Possibly.”
“Who?!”
“Sir, can you hear me? The human is doing something strange. It’s scaring the men.”
“Excuse me for one moment.” said the Captain, looking at a device on his desk.
“What is the human doing?” he asked.
“Some of the crew wanted to get a closer look at their ship. He won’t let anyone within [50 feet] of it. He keeps banging his piece of metal, denting the floor, and shouting ‘You shall not pass!’ What should we do?”
“Give the idiot human his space. He could kill all of you if he wanted. Don’t contact me again about this.”
Turning back to the two humans, who had just managed to hide their grins, he said, “Where were we?”
“Who can tell us where they are?”
“Ah, yes. A member of the same pirate crew you’re looking for. There is a pair of planets on the edge of the Far Reaches. They are pilot colonies of people that wanted to escape the war. One is an industrial center and the other grows food. They trade with each other for supplies. There are also civilian transports going to and from each world, bringing new colonists in. The Plague use these to capture their slaves. If you go there and capture one of their ships, their computer will have the info you’ll need to find your crew mate.”
Thinking quickly, Ted asked, “If we do this, and we find their base, will you help us with the raid?”
“No. I already told you, they would blow our ships out of the sky. Even though I would love to stomp on those stinking Chehnasho, I cannot help you.”
Smiling suddenly to himself, Jason looked up at the Locayl.
“What if my ship could make it so their sensors can’t see you?”
“You almost died, Tricko! You want to keep helping the human?!” exclaimed Ryst.
“Damn right I do. You weren’t there. They tortured the human nearly to death, but they couldn’t get him to break. They had to threaten someone else in order to break him. He knew he owed us, and spared me. This is what we’ve been waiting for. We’ll never get another chance like this. That human could tear the front gate guards apart!”
Bierst, the youngest of all of them and barely past his cub years, was looking nervous.
“Are we really going to do this? Rebellion? We could all be killed just for talking about it.”
“We can do it. All we have to do is figure out how to stop that signal from going out.”
The powerful compressed gas cannons that shot spikes deep into the rock were meant to break the heavy stones up and to hollow out spots to place explosives, but Tricko had seen what it did to a Locayl who had been in front of one when it went off. They’d been cleaning up the mess for two days.
If they managed to attach some gravity plates to them and make them more mobile, they’d be a powerful weapon; one that could clear any hallway in an instant.
The only problem was that when they took the mine, the Chehnasho had modified all of the equipment to be deactivated by the flip of a switch in the security room. If the signal was put out, all equipment in the mine would shut down. They had to make it so the signal never went out, or that the equipment couldn’t hear the signal. None of them knew how the things worked though, or how to disable the receivers.
“We need one more person. We need someone who can figure out how to disable the signal and keep the tools running.”
“Who here knows how to do that? Most of the people here were on their way to the colonies to become farmers.” said the fourth of their number, Charuck.
A shadow came up behind them without them noticing.
“We’ll find someone. We have to. Otherwise we’ll never make it out of here alive.”
Robert walked, standing straight for the first time since coming to the slave colony, feeling the scar where his implant had been placed.
His time in the medical bay had been quick, and the pain killers were still doing their job fantastically. Still, his body felt the after-effects of being electrocuted so many times. The muscles covering his body were sore, and he felt drained. Time would fix this, and even more time would still be needed to heal, but for the moment, he could walk and work. Food would be easier to get now that he could break rocks himself.
Trying to push what had happened to the back of his mind was a futile exercise.
After so long of holding out against the pain, he’d broken. It had been low to bring an innocent into the situation, but it seemed the Chehnasho was shrewder than he looked. All he’d had to do was threaten the little raccoon man and he had crumbled.
The Captain now knew that he could be controlled. The lives of the innocent mattered, and he couldn’t let his actions jeopardize their safety.
Walking deeper into the mine and milling through the working crowd, Robert heard a loud disturbance up ahead.
A large group of Locayl and various other species were gathered around the largest Locayl he’d seen yet. It must have been twelve feet tall, with four arms like tree trunks. In one of its hands it was holding the only weapon that he’d seen a slave carrying, an axe, maybe the length of Robert’s arm, from handle to head, with a head like an ordinary hatchet.
The crowd had begun chanting and, wanting to see what was going on, Robert pushed forward, his strength too much to ignore for anyone in his way.
Lying on the ground, hand raised in front of his face in a pathetic attempt to defend himself, was the smallest of the Gaoians that had helped him.
“Please, Ryxus! I didn’t mean it! We were just talking! Pretending!”
Laughing deeply, the Locayl looked down at the tiny furry body below him.
“I don’t think so little Gaoian. Anyone talking about rebellion here dies.”
The other three Gaoians were being held back by more Locayls, shouting for the little one to run.
Ryxus raised the axe above his head, preparing to cleave the small one in half.
As the axe began to fall, Robert threw the remaining aliens in the way clear of him and slammed himself into the twelve foot monster.
In his weakened state, the blow wasn’t nearly as much as he would have normally been able to produce. Still though, flung back by the sudden attack of such a dense foe, the Locayl fell, sprawling on the floor and clutching his side with an expression of deep pain.
“Leave him alone!” Robert growled, anger flaring up in him like fire. Hatred for people picking on the weak was ingrained deeply in him.
Slowly standing on his feet, the huge Locayl picked up the axe that had fallen to the floor.
The surrounding crowd had gone completely silent. No one moved, waiting to see what happened next. They knew what was coming. It hadn’t happened in a long time. No one had been brave or strong enough.
Looking into the eyes of the human, Ryxus raised the axe to his eye level, arm raised straight out. It was an impressive sight, being twelve feet tall. Then he dropped the axe, which made a loud clanging noise as it hit the stone.
“I accept.”
As the cheering started, the Locayl walked away without looking back, leaving the axe where it fell.
Bierst scrambled to rejoin his clan mates. Standing up among them, he stood next to Ryst as Tricko moved forward, looking at the human.
“You idiot.”
“Your ship can do all that, human?”
“That and more, Drixian. Just promise to help us, and we’ll make it so you can catch those Chehnasho with their pants down.”
Considering the small humans in front of him, he pondered the decision. If what they said was true, he would have to be very cautious. If they double crossed him, it would likely be the final bloody end to the Dying Light.
“I will not help you take the first Plague ship. You will have to do that yourself. I won’t risk another war I can’t win. But, if you do that, and find where they are, then yes, I will help you crush them.”
“Excellent. In that case, we’ll be going to do that now.”
“One moment, human. I have a condition.”
Suddenly cautious again, Jason asked, “And that condition would be?”
Turning angry, Drixian said, “Those scummy Chehnasho took my brother. If he’s still alive, I want him back. If he’s dead, I want the head of the one who killed him.”
Smiling, Jason said, “That shouldn’t be a problem to have arranged. How will we know him?”
“His name is Ryxus. He’ll be the tall one.”