Prisoner Rescue statement

[Straylight0]

Hi, a rescued prisoner wanted me to forward the below:

I will not tell you my name or the system I am from, because there are millions like me still there.

I cannot say what slavery is like in other parts of the Empire, but this I do know: my grandparents were slaves, my parents were slaves, and I was a slave despite working hard every day of our lives. I know that somehow our upkeep always costs more than our statutory pay but the owners build new palaces and post fat profits. I know that my father died in harness although some basic medicines would have treated his heart, and we had credits deducted for attending his funeral. I know that our maximum life expectancy is seventy, which is what the lifespan was four thousand years ago. Women tend to survive longest, but apparently only men have the strength to lead the Empire.

I know that my mother is the toughest and bravest person I know. All overseers are cruel, but we were given a rotten one. The beatings and rapes were more frequent, people died, there were suicides. My mother finally managed to speak to a manager, and the overseer was removed—probably only to receive a light reprimand and be transferred elsewhere. But no slave can be seen to get away with speaking up, even if it helped the corporation. So the black uniforms kicked our door in at midnight. I tried to help her, so they took me too.

When I was fully conscious again, we were in a shipping facility with many others in chains. The building had a corporate logo on the walls, but there were also posters of Zemima Torval. The black uniforms had taken off their helmets. Under them, they looked bored.

They loaded most of us into cryogenic shipment units. There was no sedative jab first, and many prisoners were shivering in their restraints and pleading as the doors were closed and they began to freeze. My mother did not shiver or plead, she spat at the man locking her in. He just finished closing the door and fixed a red sticker on the cargo label.

‘We’re out of freezers,’ said one guard.

‘Use cattle boxes and put them in the first flight,’ replied another.

‘Why the first flight? Does it really matter if they get there alive?’ asked the first.

‘Follow protocol, they do the honours far end,’ said the second.

So the rest of us were locked inside canisters without freezing. They were padded on the inside, with a small window for people to look in and an oxygen unit. When we were loaded onto the freighter, I was flung around like the ball in a rattle. By the time it took off, I had learned to brace myself against the sides with my limbs.

I had never felt zero-g before. I heard the muffled sound of others being sick through the walls, but later we started singing. I joined in as best I could. We all knew what would happen; when the ships bring fertiliser back and workers spread it on the fields, they sometimes find an earring or a surgical plate in it. Do not eat food from Torval systems.

Later, we heard shouting from elsewhere on the ship, and it began to shake around. I heard strange noises, but I had no idea what lasers hitting shields sounded like yet. I did recognise the clang of something striking metal, then the canister tipped and started spinning. Through the little window, I could see blackness with stars in it, streaks of light, the odd ship, all eerily silent. Then something like a fat metal spider came straight at me with jets flaring on its back and clamped its legs around the canister. The spinning stopped, and we accelerated.

I saw another ship ahead, a long sleek one with wings on either side. Lasers were firing at it but stopping short and splashing over an invisible egg around its outside. I wasn’t close enough though, and suddenly there was a terrible heat and noise. The side of my canister turned white, some of it melted and blew out into space. The air started following it with a dreadful screeching noise. My ears popped and popped again.

The spider must have still been working, because we went under the ship and up to a hatch, wobbling a bit because of the air hissing out. There a metal claw grabbed the container and a few moments later I was in another hold. The hissing of air escaping slowed down and stopped.

I pushed hard against the side of the canister and it was damaged enough that I managed to kick and shove the door open. I was worried the hold might depressurise again if more cargo was loaded, so I pushed myself to the door and managed to open it. It is very hard moving around weightless for the first time but I think you know that.

I closed the door after me and went through several more rooms that were nicely decorated and appointed like managers’ houses are. Sometimes they rotated and moved around me, and I bounced off the walls. Then I found myself on what must have been the bridge. There were two chairs with someone in a flight-suit sitting in one in front of a huge canopy. Through it I could see the freighter firing its guns at us, and another ship that was smaller and rounder getting in between us. Weirdly, I could now hear engines and impacts.

There was a sudden loud hiss. I saw something furry clinging to the wall. It looked a bit like a large cat but it had huge teeth bared at me and its eyes were glowing.

The chair spun around. The pilot was covered in a kind of transparent gel over every part of her except for her face. ‘What the frag are you doing here?’

‘I was in a canister. Am I being pirated?’ I asked.

‘Yes. Get in the other chair and strap yourself in fast. Katzenstein, leave him alone unless he misbehaves,’ she added to the creature. The chair turned back around. ‘Shields holding. Getting more cargo. Computer, memo to get locks on cargo bay doors and a gun. They might try a trojan horse tactic.’

Being pirated was better than getting killed so I managed to push myself forward and get to the chair. The animal followed me, jumping easily from wall to wall and sticking on to them, glaring. When I got into the chair straps snapped around me automatically, then more of the gel oozed out and started enveloping me. I screamed and struggled, thinking I was a prisoner again.

‘Relax kid, it’s to protect you. Good job keeping the fire off Derrida. Can someone scan the freighter and see if it’s got any prisoners left?’

The gel stopped short of my face. I managed to control my breathing and relaxed, at least for a moment.

‘Security’s here!’ said a voice out of the console. ‘I’ll keep them off. You and Johnny get the last cargo.’ The round ship on the screen roared away on a trail of fire.

‘Freighter’s empty,’ said another voice. A second of the round ships appeared with one of the spiders carrying a pod towards it. Then another ship appeared, a stubby triangle. Lasers flared, the round ship lurched and the cannister exploded into a cloud of flaming debris.

‘Frag! Engaging!’ said the pilot. She did something and suddenly it was as if gravity was back, only several times stronger and the ship was standing on its end. The view rocked and spun, then a triangular ship was ahead and lasers from our wings were hammering into it. The catlike creature was clinging to a console with claws digging into the metal, its ears back against its head.

‘Shall we blow it up? We get any guidance on that?’ asked the pilot.

‘Feel free,’ I told her.

‘I got three more hostiles dropping in. Anyone left floating in space?’ asked one of her friends.

‘Got the last one,’ said the other. ‘Jumping out.’

‘Confirmed,’ said the pilot. The computer counted down, the stars went funny for a moment and then we were out of the fight.

‘We’re out of drones. Ready to head home?’ asked the intercom.

‘I’m staying, I have more limpets left,’ said the pilot. ‘See you later.’

‘What happens to me now?’ I asked.

The pilot looked at me. Her face was pale and she had dark smudges under her eyes. ‘You’re not free yet. I have to try getting more prisoners, then we have to escape hostile territory, cross a hundred light-years and even at the far end you’re technically illegal cargo. Although I don’t think Cubeo security is actually too bothered about that.’

‘What, I’m going to be free?’ I gasped.

I don’t know enough about spacecraft to tell you about the rest of the flight. The next rescue attempt did not go so well, and when I finally saw the ship from the outside again in Medupe station, it had holes in its hull.

‘I don’t know how to thank you!’ I said.

‘Don’t,’ said the pilot. We were watching as the cargo was unloaded and opened up. Some of the people from cattle-boxes were being taken straight to hospital. ‘There are too many of you, I can’t get to know you all. No scratch that, send me a message sometime and tell me if poverty is better than slavery. Now I need to get into my own cryo-pod.’

‘Cry-pod?’ I echoed.

She nodded. ‘People died and got left behind today because I wasn’t fast enough, or hadn’t trained or prepared enough. Yesterday I rammed a canister by accident and killed them myself. You try sleeping after that.’ And she walked back into her ship.

My mother’s fate remains unknown, by the way.

A welcoming officer started telling me that they could only give me a small amount to set me up and the next few weeks would be hard, but I stopped her. ‘What can I do to help?’ I asked.

Now I work long hours packaging media materials. I love it. My wages are building up and the overseers say please, order us to take breaks and tell some of us we’re working too hard. The only time off I took was to write this; I’m sending it to the “Bad Asp Joke” wing who rescued me and the media centre if they want to use it.

I see Aisling’s face a thousand times a day on leaflets, posters, photos, data discs. I know what her enemies say about her and I wouldn’t care if it was all true. She saw something wrong and she gathered an army to do something about it.

Keep flying Angels, but sleep well in between.

[Straylight0]

Ooops, forum bug. Anyone who knows how to do it, feel free to delete one

[Flip]

Done.

[Xebeth]

Hi, a rescued prisoner wanted me to forward the below:....

Brilliant, excellent read

[Flip]

Yeah, great read!

[Daniel Dakota]

Enjoyed that, nice read.

[clivewil]

i liked it too, good job

[Grifs]

Had a good read with that, good job.

[Straylight0]

Thanks folk! Have actually remembered to subscribe this thread now

Struggling a bit in that strategic command is now telling us to stay away from Torval, and suggesting we blow up aid ships instead. Compromising by going after Delaine, but there is no way of rescuing the Marked Slaves on his ships. Oh well, in the short term, fighting a war according to principles is always going to leave one hand tied behind you back...

Lucky his mother was rescued the day after

[Cmdr Ant Kingsmill]

Thanks for sharing this story