Slaves of Rubi-Ka

[____________Talonarr]

((Yep, I think it's awesome...gives us all a chance to stretch our character's wings a bit...keep it up, Mistress!))

[Jynne]

WTB TL6+ NT slave!!11! Must be willing to be known as "Jynne's nanoregen bitch." Full perk training in channeling of notum a plus. PNH and IOR nanos required.

Must weigh under 200 lbs in order for Jynne to use as human shield in dangerous areas. Previous experience as rodeo clown may aid in this task.

Possession of sanguine extermination ring and lava protection boots prior to purchase a large plus. Otherwise, Jynne will sell you these things at the going market rate as of this ad (40 million and 180 million credits respectively).

In return for your keeping my nanopool full and dying repeatedly in my place, I will mock you and call you "gutless loser" on a regular basis. If you think you'll be getting sex out of this, have your head examined you've been bashed by Snarf a few times too many.

Applicants may line up around the block outside backyard 4 in west athen.

Muahahaha

[Whaynn]

I must admit that I was disgusted when reading this on the public boards, and seeing this trade happen within the confines of Rompa! I had a long talk with Zette and I have begun to purchase the slaves' freedom... it is a disgusting issue. I payed Zette a generous amount of credits to free Unole, and she is now working at the Rompa Bar as a waitress, earning her own living without having to wory about who her owner is, and she is enjoying her freedom greatly. I have since begun to negotiate other slaves' freedom and offering them work at RE so that the transition is made easier for them. I am aware that in a way I may be funding the Slaves of Rubi-ka, but the purpose is greater than simply credits. By showing these oppressed souls what freedom is like and helping them make a living, this issue will be more easily settled, slaves not being willing to be treated like that again, and seeking their own freedom.

[Uglyshot]

Next time you clan rebels think of OT workers as slaves, remember this, Omni-Tek is the only reason why your alive today. If it werent for Omni-tek, you would have never been conceaved on Rubi-ka. I would like to think OT would have resolved the notum situation if they had the time they needed to find a solution, but instead, you... pesky, impatiant, REBELS decided you want to fight the system and reak havoc on happy citizens... thank yourselves for the time wasted!

[Timewarped451]

Zette paced, her footsteps sounding sharp against the concrete floor, the echo a backbeat in a minor key, which served to increase the sinister aspect of the dimly lit and featureless room. As she paced, she examined the layout of the emitters that would create a cage of laser beams. She stooped to reposition the small emitters, creating a path of irregular width that twisted across the floor of the abandoned building. She picked up an inactive emitter and turned it in her hands. It was spherical, about 5 cm in diameter. Its surface gleamed, no markings other than a faint line dividing it in half. She set it down and backed away.

She set a small chest at one end of the path and surrounded it with more of the small emitters at varying distances to create an irregular cage of light around it. She looked about the great concrete box of a room, analyzing distances and positioning and decided that it was complex enough, but not overly difficult.

Zette took the remote from her pocket and examined it. It was a cylinder, 3.5 cm by 10. It also had a metallic sheen, but dotted with small buttons and, on those buttons, symbols. She turned it over and placed her thumb over the activator. A micro beam read her chemistry and enabled the device. The remote was keyed to DNA and would only operate for her. It had taken her months to hack the access program to accept her DNA. The remote had originally been keyed to her keeper on Anvil. She had stolen the laser web and other things when she fled the planet as a stowaway on the off-world freighter 15 years ago.

The technology was efficient and the activator instantly came to life. At the same time, the emitters she’d place split apart, half of each one seeming to spring into the air on beams of light. Though the entire process took less than a second, it seemed to Zette that she could see each small half-sphere reach out to the others, send their beams of light in several directions, connecting, creating a fine web of light that should be sufficient to hold any living creature within its confines. And it would hold most.

She approached the web and brushed her finger against one of the beams and watched as a small bit of flesh was separated from her fingertip. She paid just enough attention to the injured finger to keep it from bleeding on the remote as she pressed symbols that would lower the intensity of the lasers. She slid the injured finger against the beam of light again and effectively cauterized the wound. She lowered the settings once more, tested the beam and was satisfied when she only received a moderate burn.

Zette pressed the activator once more and the shimmering web collapsed. She walked out of the building to wait for Unole.

____________________


Unole had been training hard, working hard, and she was tired, but she looked forward to her sessions with Zette. The training seemed to lift her spirits. Each time she met and surpassed a challenge set for her, she felt the accomplishment with a keen sense of pride. The feeling created a conflict inside her. On Houme, she would have been punished for any sense of self or pride. For a slave to feel pride was an abomination. But Zette made the feeling seem more like a gift. Zette told her that a sense of pride would make her a better slave, not a worse one. There was so much she had to put behind her. So much she had to learn if she was to live in this new world.

As she approached the abandoned building, she spotted Zette standing outside. They waved a greeting to each other and Zette motioned her to follow then turned and went inside.

Unole’s first impression on entering the building was of vast emptiness, and then she spotted the chest on the far side of the room. She thought, “Oh, another turn at breaking into a locked box, or maybe disarming a trap.” She would have to be alert. Zette would not tell her which. She turned to Zette and said, “Another locked box, Miss? I feel we have done so many of these I could do it with my eyes closed.”

Zette smiled. “Good,” she said then pulled a blindfold from her pocket. She tied it around Unole’s head and stepped back. “What do you see?” she asked.

Unole put her hands up to the cloth covering her eyes. “Nothing,” she replied.

Zette nodded, reached into her pocket again and thumbed the activator. The web of light silently created itself again. “Do you know where the chest is?” she smiled as Unole nodded. “Good. I want you to open the chest,” she told her then turned away. “I warn you that it’s not as easy as it seems. Take care.”

“Yes, Miss,” Unole said. She visualized the empty room, the chest and oriented herself to the image. She walked toward the spot where the chest sat. Suddenly she felt as if a hundred tiny flames were eating into her skin. She stumbled back, screaming her pain, brushing at her arms, her face, her body, wherever the tiny flames seemed to burn.

Zette winced for Unole’s pain and turned to watch the girl struggle out of the web and collapse to the floor. Unole wept. She reached up and removed the blindfold and looked around her. Zette went to her and knelt behind her.

The fine web of light that was so apparent to Zette was nearly invisible to Unole. Zette told her, “Get hold of yourself, girl.” Her voice was soft, but there was no sympathy in it. “You’ve forgotten your lessons. Has life been so easy for you?”

Unole wiped at the tears on her face with the palms of her hands, collected herself and sat straighter. “My apologies, Miss.”

Zette nodded. “Accepted. Now, tell me your error.”

“I made an assumption, Miss,” Unole began. “I assumed there was no danger in approaching the chest. I relied upon what my eyes saw to guide me. I did not try to perceive the possibility of an obstacle.” She moved her hands over her arms, whimpering in pain as her fingers brushed the blisters now beginning to form.

Zette gripped Unole’s shoulders firmly. The girl whimpered as Zette’s fingers closed over the burns crisscrossing the skin. “Try again.”

Unole shuddered, then nodded and stood up. Zette took the blindfold from her and retied it, effectively blocking her sight. She tried to recall the image of the room. The pain of her burns kept distracting her, blurring the image. She took several deep breaths and tried to ignore the pain.

She moved forward cautiously, her hands in front of her. Zette watched silently. Unole felt for each step. She moved her hands before her. She tilted her head to listen. She concentrated. The more she concentrated, the sharper the pain seemed to become. She took another step toward where she believed the chest to be. She reached forward, trying to detect the obstacle she could not sense. Her hand met the web and she released a piercing scream, falling where she stood. She cradled her hand against her chest and wept.

Zette looked at her, an expression of compassion altering the hardness of her features. She stooped down beside Unole and spoke, keeping her voice even and emotionless. “Unole, listen,” she began. “Pain is your friend. Pain teaches you. You must learn to accept pain. Embrace it. Make it yours. Make it a part of you. Own it. Do not let it own you.” She held the girl by her shoulders and helped her to stand. She walked Unole several meters away from the web of light and turned her a dozen times. “Now,” she said. “Try again.” She repositioned the blindfold and stepped away.

Unole nodded, stifled a whimper and reached out again. She felt the air around her. Tried to orient herself again. The pain in her hand sharpened and sent its influence to the rest of her body. She bit her lip and tried to ignore it. She took a hesitant step forward.

“Stop!” Zette shouted. “Stop where you are!” Unole jerked her body to stillness, unable this time to stifle a sob of pain and frustration. “Have you heard nothing,” Zette scolded. “Has everything I said to you failed to stay in your tiny brain? You are letting your pain guide you.” Zette stepped close to the girl and whispered harshly. “There is nothing to fear here, yet you fear the pain. Pain brings you fear and you move like a stumbling fool, afraid to take the next step. Master your pain and there is nothing to fear.”

Zette grabbed Unole’s injured hand and squeezed it hard. Unole grunted and flinched away. “Do you feel that,” Zette asked. “Does it hurt?” Unole nodded. “Does it take your life?” Zette asked.

The frightened girl shook her head. “No, Miss.”

“Shall I tell you why you fear pain?” Zette continued without waiting for a reply. “Pain makes you fear death, yet, when death arrives, there is no pain. So, why fear pain?” She dropped Unole’s hand. “Master your pain. Acknowledge it. Own it. Make it a part of you. Make it work for you. Do not work so hard to avoid it. You waste your energy. It is there. It cannot be avoided.” She walked away from the weeping girl. “Try again,” she said.

Unole straightened her shoulders, letting her arms hang loosely by her side. She struggled against the pain, fighting to bring it under her control. She breathed deeply and tried to put the pain away from her and failed.

She shook her head and thought. Zette’s words echoed, “Acknowledge it. Own it. Make it a part of you.” She hardened herself, her face set in fierce concentration. She allowed the pain to sweep over her. She felt it in every part of her body. In her mind’s eye, she looked at it and saw it for what it was. Only a transmission of data from her flesh to her brain telling her of some injury. She inspected the injury and found it minor.

She turned her attention to the pain once again. She acknowledged it; gave it form. She embraced it, muttered soothing words then took it into herself. The pain did not subside, but she knew it now. Knew its message and its purpose. In no way had the pain become less. She had become more.

Suddenly it was as if she could see. The web of light that she had strained to see with her eyes became obvious to her. She turned in place, viewing the room with the new insight she had gained. She saw the space with a new clarity. To her left, she sensed the door and the faint light that trickled under it. To her right, the web. Beyond the web was the chest, which glowed with a light of its own, telling her that danger lay within. Not only would she have to open the chest, she would have to disarm the trap that protected it.

She scanned the web of light for an opening and found it at one end. She moved confidently to it, entered the corridor of light and made her way through twists and turns. She stopped only when she sensed something that seemed to be out of place. Each trap was disarmed as she came to them. Zette watched and nodded approval.

Unole came to an intersection where the corridor of light crossed back upon itself. The crossing created a barrier of intersecting beams with spaces too small for her body to pass without injury. She considered simply walking through, now confident in her new ability to control her pain, but then she reconsidered. Why cause herself undue pain when the solution was at hand?

She pushed the button on her deck and ran the program “Pronouncement of Greatness.” With her new senses, the light that surrounded her was nearly blinding as it transformed her. She heard Zette laugh aloud as she chirped, “Peekay,” and hopped her leet form through a small opening in the web.

The blindfold fell from her eyes, but she continued to use her heightened senses to hop and scurry through the web of light in a direct line to the chest. She terminated the transforming program within the cage of light that surrounded the chest. She disrmed the trap and opened the chest. Inside she found a cup of tea. She removed it, closed the chest and, with a smile, made herself comfortable on its top. She raised the cup in a salute to Miss Zette and sipped daintily.

Zette’s face was alight with pride and laughter as she watched Unole sip contentedly on her tea. She thumbed the activator and dropped the web then walked to the girl. “Well done,” she said.

[Betji]

Betji sat in her Borealis apartment, sunlight filtering through the skylight, and scanned the reports from her survelliances supervisor program. She had too many remotes, in too many places, to review every one personally.

A cross-reference caught her eye. The abandoned warehouse, Unole, and Mistress Zette. She watched, listened, and pondered. There was definitely more to Zette's philosophy of slavery than met the eye. She remembered her own days when Maxflier was her mentor in all things Rubi-Ka, and recognized the master-student relationship. Of course, she preferred Max's methods by a wide margin, as they were far less painful.

Unole was still young, but she admired her determination. Mentally, she tagged the names as people well worth contacting for the right sort of work.

[Timewarped451]

Zette studied the ToS carefully. Whaynn’s arrest and upcoming trial had her worried. She stood to lose a good deal of business if Whaynn was found guilty. She looked back over her research again.

When she had first arrived on Rubi-Ka she’d tested the waters to determine the legal obstacles she might face. At that time, general consensus was that slavery, as she defined it, was not illegal. She had proceeded on that basis.

By the terms outlined in the ToS, Whaynn had purchased the slaves and was responsible for their care and protection, whether he decided to set them free or not. Until such time that someone else stepped up to care for the girls, he was Master, daddy, mommy and brother to them. But someone’s toes must have gotten stepped on.

She tried an experiment with her ToS, changing selected words but leaving the terms intact. As she read it, she muttered, “Looks like a labor contract to me.” She read down the list of terms. “Nice benefits package, too.”

TERMS OF SERVICE

(1) The employee agrees to sell his/her services on open market for an amount to be determined by employer and Seller, known as Slaves of Rubi-Ka, hereinafter referred to as SoRK. Employer agrees to assume responsibility for employee’s training, care and upkeep upon delivery of property.

(2) Employee will be allowed to keep 25% of sale price agreed upon between SoRK and Buyer.

(3) Employee may refuse sale based on ethical or moral principle.

(4) Employee must agree to preserve confidentiality of clientele except when item (4) is in conflict with item (6).

(5) Employee agrees to remain with Employer until such time as Employer frees, returns or otherwise dismisses him/her. Voluntarily leaving Employer’s service without Employer’s agreement will result in fine not to exceed the sale commission and/or loss of good standing with SoRK and/or entry of employee’s name into public blacklist.

(6) Employee cannot be pressed to perform duties the employee knows to be illegal, immoral or both. Persistence by the Employer to press the employee into unwilling service which the Employer knows to be against the ethics of the employee will result in the employee being removed from service and the Employer’s name being posted on a public blacklist.

(7) If, as a result of theft or other misadventure, the Employee is removed from the Employer’s service, the Employer is within his rights to locate and reclaim said Employee. The Employer may enlist the aid of SoRK, but may not hold SoRK responsible for such loss of services.

Note: No refunds are available unless special circumstances arise which, upon agreement between SoRK and Buyer that such circumstances exist, may result in the return of monies not to exceed 50% of original sale price.


Zette finished reading and set the altered ToS aside. She was sure that Whaynn was not unique in his situation, yet she could not recall another being delivered to a guilty verdict.

Zette wondered. Why Whaynn and not Todmude? Why was Blackswords so innocent after offering to buy Kajira’s ‘contract,’ declaring the same intent that Whaynn had declared? To buy her freedom. Why Whaynn and not a hundred other slave owners on Rubi-Ka who kept their slaves behind a screen of propriety and freedom.

Why Whaynn?

[Tax]

*Captain Templus walks up to the podium and adjusts the microphone.*

Ladies and Gentlemen, fellow Citizens of Omni Tek, Members of the press. I will keep this briefing short and simple, and at the end I will entertain only a few questions. With that said let me start.

A few days ago it has come to my attention that the act of slavery has reared its ugly head here in our fine cities. This is an intolerable act! *With a mighty thud Templus smashed her fist on the podium and some feedback from the microphone echoes in the air*

Rests assure fine Citizens that this is not only a morally devoid act, but also a serious crime. A crime that will come to a end soon, all employees that are caught buying, selling, or harboring the slave trade will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

In addition I would also like to let the fine Citizens know that the first wave of arrests have been made and there will be more to come in the near future.

At this time I will open the floor for a few questions.

[Timewarped451]

Zette scanned a transcript of the public announcement. Her eyes came to an abrupt halt when she reached the phrase, "first wave of arrests." She smirked and thought, "Probably all the wrong people, too."

She tossed the transcript aside and went back to soaking her feet. She loved to run, but she had to get some new boots.

[Betji]

Betji shook her head and sighed. All the usual politics were starting all over again. She turned on her comm-writer, and dictated a letter.

Dear Zette,

I enjoyed our chat the other night. However, it's come to my attention that Whaynn, others, and ultimately you are likely to be tried by Omni-Tek on various charges.

I urge you not to put too much trust in the law as interpreted by Omni-Tek. The last few centuries have proven that the mega-corps can write and twist the law to suit their needs. In this case, the term "slaves" and "slavery" are politically charged words. The idea that OT would "permit" slavery makes the corporation look bad, and OT never, ever wants to look bad in the court of galactic public opinion. Therefore, regardless of whether you believe you have the legal right to pursue your business, I confidently predict that various branches of Omni-Tek will continue to plague you, and those involved with you, for the forseeable future. If you dodge one legal attack, they'll come after you for some other reason. Templus is an especially implacable opponent who almost invariably shoots first and asks questions later, if at all.

To my knowledge, the only known way to trump OT is by playing the ICC card, which requires rather diligent political and diplomatic work at ICC headquarters off-planet. Remember, the on-planet presence of the ICC isn't significant enough to stir the most junior of junior assistant undersecretaries.

I do have some suggestions and recommendations. If you're interested in them, give me a call the next time you're on planet.

warmest regards,
Betji

[Timewarped451]

Zette entered Rompa and looked around. She saw Whaynn and some others in one of the front booths. She thought about going over, then decided not to. She only wanted a drink and somewhere to wait for Whaynn’s attorney to show. Unole had told her that Andy “Prezidential” French wanted to talk to her about the slave mentality.

She strolled to the back of the bar and took a seat in a quiet corner. She thought of Kajira. She had heard lots about what had happened at Rompa the night before Kajira disappeared with Arimathea. She had to talk to Kajira. She had to find out from Kaji what had happened. She had to find out if Kaji was all right.

After some minutes of sitting and thinking, it dawned on Zette that no waiter or waitress had come to take her order. She figured that, since her last visit to Rompa, she might be ‘persona non grata’ in the eyes of RE staff. She got up and went to the bar to get her own drink.

Zette stood at the bar looking over at the group around Whaynn and decided to find out what she could. She walked casually to the booth on the other side of the dividing wall and took a seat. She could barely hear the voices. Some she could not hear at all.

She had decided to leave when she heard her name. “Zette is another matter…” was all she heard. She listened for a few minutes hearing nothing. It was time to become obvious.

“Hello, gents,” she said stepping around the wall.

Baiyn was in the middle of being intimidating. He said, “Because when he leaves, I’m shoving our chain panties down your throat.”

Zette guessed he was talking to Headlessjack. She looked around the table and noticed Whaynn’s glare which was ridiculously out of context with the rollerrat hat he wore. She didn’t bother to stifle a snicker.

Rebirthx, one of the wait staff asked her to sit. She preferred to stand.

Saxon made a humming sound and said, “Good to see you Zette.”

Zette looked at Saxon from the corner of her eye, her mouth set in a perpetual smirk. “I’m sure you think so, Sexon.” She said. She paused, seeming to think. “Oh. That was Saxon, wasn’t it?” She smiles her most insincere smile. “My error.”

“I heard my name a while ago. Got curious,” she said. She looked at Saxon. “What nasty little game we playing today, 'trox.”

Headlessjack said, “Baiyn isn’t a friendly one.”

“Thanks for the information, Jack,” she said. “Ok,” she went on. “So, there’s nothing to say? Nothing to hear?” She turned and started to leave.

“Actually…” Saxon said. Zette stopped and turned back, waiting for Saxon to finish.

Baiyn shifted, “Just out of curiosity, why is it Zette stands before you, a member of a slave-trading organization, and yet, you do nothing?” he asked Saxon.

Saxon ignored Baiyn’s question for the moment and said to Zette, “I understand you have been running a borderline legal business.”

Zette didn’t disagree. “I believe the keyword is legal.”

“Right,” Saxon agreed.

Baiyn tossed in, “I believe it’s Borderline. Or, better yet, Slave.”

Zette looked at Baiyn and decided he wasn’t worth the time it would take to think up a reply and turned her attention back to Saxon. She heard Baiyn mutter something about doesn’t have a problem with Zette, unless she’d like one. She asked Saxon, “Any other… questions?” then added sarcastically, “Officer.”

Saxon looked up to say, “One moment,” then continued to speak into his comlink.

She waited. She heard Whaynn’s com snap closed. She stood quietly, sipping her drink. Finally Saxon finished his conversation.

“Well, you crossed a line to say, Zette,” he said.

Zette looked into her wine, “To say what,” she asked. “Goodbye?”

“If I don’t see an arrest of the slave trader right here, I’ll have your badge, Saxon,” Baiyn demanded.

Saxon continued to speak to Zette. “A good amount of evidence has been collected.”

Zette kept her eyelids lowered. She watched the wine coat the sides of her glass. “Mmm. I’d like to see it.” Her voice didn’t hold any worry.

“Perhaps,” Saxon said. “But I would need to see that the witnesses are protected first.”

Zette took a deep breath and let it out, trying not to laugh. “Saxon,” she said calmly. “You don’t need to protect anybody from me.” She looked at the big 'trox remembering what Unole had told her regarding Saxon’s taking of Baiyn’s head. “I’m not in the business of taking trophies.”

Saxon offered advice. “I would be careful in the future, Zette.”

Zette caricatured a slavish attitude, “Oh, Sir! I so appreciate your kind advice.”

Baiyn banged his fist down on the seat. “I want an arrest, damn it!”

Zette took a sip of her wine, shedding the slavish caricature. “Now,” she said quietly, “I have a problem to solve, Saxon.” She raised her eyes. “My problem is your presence.”

Baiyn laughed as Zette continued, “Since I have no real business here, I will solve that problem by leaving.”

“You do that,” Saxon said.

Zette turned to leave, then paused. “Oh, Saxon,” she kept her back to the table. “What line do I cross to say good bye to you? I want to remember it.”

As she left she heard Baiyn saying, “Expect to lose your job. And soon, Saxon.”

She hadn’t spoken to Whaynn’s attorney, nor had she found out where Kajira was. Finding Kajira and making sure the girl was safe, mentally and emotionally, as well as physically, was her primary concern. She set off to do just that.

More on this story in "The Peculiar Institution Controversy"

[Saxon]

Saxon quickly became annoyed with Zette, Saxon knew full well he could not make an arrest untill he got Whaynn's statement...If he ever got it. Whaynn was not the true problem here, and his freedom for Zette's arrest was well worth it.

[Betji]

Betji silently appears beside the big atrox just long enough to say, quietly, "Psst, it's spelled 'Captain,' not 'Captian'."


=====================================


Some days later, Betji is still rubbing her head (see below), but notices that the spelling of Saxon's rank has changed for the better.

[Tax]

Originally posted by Betji
Betji silently appears beside the big atrox just long enough to say, quietly, "Psst, it's spelled 'Captain,' not 'Captian'."

Templus silently appears beside the little human just long enough to slap her upside the head, psst, stay out of this. And get back to Tir you traitor.

[Timewarped451]

Zette paced. As she paced, she thought. Whaynn's trial was set for 2300 EST tonight. She needed to be there. She needed to listen to the arguments and know the outcome.

She set her wineglass down and left the apartment. She find out, one way or another.

[Timewarped451]

It was early. Zette strolled thru the streets of Jobe Harbor to her office. It had been a long and frantic week, being off planet, rushing back to attend Whaynn's trial only to find that it had been postponed. She'd heard that Whaynn had "skipped out." A short conversation with Unole revealed that he had been called offplanet on family business. She didn't think that OP was going to accept that, but the fact that he had returned and was willing to face his accusers meant that he had probably been away legitimately.

The streets were quiet as she approached the door of the Jobe Real Estate building where her office was. She liked the early mornings because the were quiet.

She walked up to the door expecting it to draw back and admit her as always and came hard up against its surface. She backed up and saw that the door was not responding to her key. She tried again. Still it didn't open. She tried manual override. It stayed closed.

She turned away from the door and scanned the streets for a technician. No one was around. She decided that, since there was no one else available, she would try to hack her way in. She took the cover panel off the manual override and moved the wires inside until she found the ones she wanted. A couple of clips and a twist and she was inside.

Something was wrong. Though she could see nothing from the foyer, there was a smell in the air. Something foul. She moved into the apartment she was subleasing as an office. She turned the corner and was confronted by chaos.

She stedied her breathing and kept her anger in check as she walked through, inspecting the damage. The kitchen area was, for the most part, undamaged, but everything had been removed from the cabinets and was smashed or spilled on every available surface. The great room, in which sat her desk and files, had been ransacked. The furniture had been slit, made unfit for use. Lamps were broken. Tables were beaten apart and thrown about. The hard files she kept in a drawer of her desk had been removed from their folders and scattered. Fortunately, nothing of a confidential matter had been kept here. Nothing like that was ever written down.

She let her eyes wander over the destruction and then she walked into the room. She passed the body of the Buffy statue that had stood next to the exit to the terrace and picked up the head that had been broken off. She cradled it under her arm, stroking the cool marble as she continued her tour.

Next to where the sofa had been she found the source of the foul stench. Atrox leavings. Only 'troxes could leave that much that foul. She walked away from the foulness and read the message that had been written in large red letters across the window. "die slaver," it said. Other things were written there, but Zette didn't bother to read them.

Zette controlled her anger, reducing it to a cold glow of determination deep inside her psyche. She rubbed a hand over the marble head, lifted it and looked at the face carved in stone. "Damn," she muttered. "I really liked that statue."

She turned away from the mess and started walking toward the door. She didn't need to look at the other rooms. It was obvious the vandals had done a thorough job of destroying the place. She pictured Saxon's face and overlaid the image onto the marble head she held. She grinned evilly, placed a hard kiss upon the stone lips and tossed the head back over her shoulder. She left the building and began to plan. "Ha! This should be fun," she laughed.

No. She didn't think that Saxon had anything to do with the vandalism. She had simply turned her mind to other things.

[Saxon]

Saxon grined at the report on his desk, Zette's appeartment has been partically destoryed. It was refreshing to see her business beceoming very unpopular. Saxon didn't have the evidence to arrest Zette yet, but it was only a matter of time before he got what he needed.

Saxon leaned back in is chair thinking of the deal he had offered whaynn and why he hasn't replyed yet, sadly Kajira made her desision not to help.

[Khuri]

"I got something for you here..." he said throwing some pink clothes on the floor at her feet. "I want you to wear it." he said softly.

"B-but why should I wear this...?" Thayami asked; "Ouch!" He slaped her in the face.

"Don't answer back!" he yelled "I want you to wear it, now!"

"Y-yes, Sir!" Thayami stuttered and saluted her uncle. She picked up the clothes and quickly went out of the room.

Her uncle smirked. "Finally she learned to show respect" he mumbled.

A short moment after Thayami entered the room again, wearing the pink clothes. She blushed, as her uncle looked at her. "Uncle, why do I have to wear this?"

"Because I bought those clothes, and now I want to see how they fit you, Taisha." he answered softly again.

She could smell the alcohol on his breath. Her uncle was a drinker who did nothing useful the day long. They lived in this small apartment at Harry's and no one was around who would have cared about their life.

Thayami's parents died when she was ten. And her uncle was her only relative on this planet. The less she liked him, the more he liked her. She was nothing more then a "toy" for him. She tried to run away... more then once. But he always got her back and, every time, he punished her harder.

At the age of 17, he forced her to join the military. The Armed Scout Troops. "To learn to show me more respect", he said. He was there before, in the military. A Sergeant. But they discharged him because of his violence and because he was a drinker. Now she was under his command. Thayami got no friends. The few people at Harry's had no regard for her and in the military she was known as the niece of her uncle. No one took care of her. Everytime she was dismissed from duty, she had to return to him... "home".

"Uncle, please, my name is Thayami" she said.

"Shut up!" he slaped her again in the face. "Your mother was a bitch! And I don't want you to have the name of a bitch!" he shouted.

"B-but..." Thayami sobbed.

"Shut up I said!" he shouted at her. Tears started running down her face. He looked at her. His eyes wandered slowly from her feet to her face, then he smirked and grabbed her arm.


Wherever she would try to go, her uncle would force her back. When RUR settled their storage at Harry's, Thayami wanted to get one of the famous leetbots, to have at least some "friend". But when she got to the storage the one day, the doors had been open and the security system not active. Before she thought about it, Thayami stole one of the bots and made it possible for the other bots to escape ((see here:Omni-Pol Recover Stolen Leetbots )).

When she found out RUR and Omni-Pol was searching for the thief, she decided to try to retract her action by telling Omni-Pol that she had stolen one bot and made the others escape. If her uncle found out she had stolen the bot, nothing good would happen.

Thayami herself was hoping Omni-Pol might meet with her uncle as well and see how she lived and take her away from him. Nothing like this happened and still her uncle found out she had stolen the bots...

A few days ago, Thayami read about the "Slaves Wanted" Ad on Gridstream. After she read the "Terms and Conditions of Sale" over and over again, she decided to contact the director of Slaves of Rubi-Ka, "Zette" Dumontaigne. It couldn't get any worse and, according to the Terms, she would be protected by the law and the organisation from her uncle if she became a slave. She met with Zette Dumontaigne at the Rompa Bar where Thayami told her why a freeborn would like to become a slave. Zette herself agreed and promised to protect Thayami against her uncle if necessary.

-----
>>Character-Information

[________Elle DiLaine]

Elle placed her hands on her slender hips and sighed. Her eyes studied the large apartment: The large windows looking out on the city, the small kitchen that had never been used, the enormous parlor that had never had guests. She peered through the bedroom door at the oversized bed that only one very small Opifex woman had ever slept in.

=Audit= buzzed quietly, waking her from her daydream.

"Your ship departs in one hour, Master."

"Thank you, =Audit=."

"Master, you have not called your mother and father this morning. Would you like me to activate your commlink?"

"No, =Audit=."

"Master, all credits have been transferred to your personal account and locked. Would you like me to authorise a withdrawal? You currently have 2,000 credits in your briefcase. This will be insufficient..."

"=Audit=, please stop. We will not need credits where we are going. I want no one to know that I have that much money. I also do not wish you to speak of my family or my job. We are leaving. I am ordering you never to speak of anything that has happened before this moment. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master. Shall I carry the luggage?"

"Alright, =Audit=. Wait for me outside."

"Yes, Master."

Elle DiLaine looked around her once more and smiled her first genuine smile in a long time. Life on Rubi-Ka would be a welcome change. No one knew her, nothing was expected of her. She could go there and be whatever she chose...

Elle turned and walked out, not looking back.

______________________________________________


First-class on a shuttle from the Morning Star to Omni-1. So far, so good. Nothing had slowed her down. =Audit= had been strangely quiet, but that was most likely because of her previous order.

"=Audit=, have you uploaded all the necessary maps of Rubi-Ka, with important locations specified?"

"Yes, Master."

"Alright. Omni-Trade."

"<click> Omni-Trade is located within Omni-1. Whompa access from Omni-Entertainment, ICC, and Galway Castle. Shop til you drop in Omni-Trade!"

Elle chuckled quietly. "Thank you, =Audit=. Well done."

She laid her head back and looked up at the screens playing the IRRK Newswire and various advertisements. Just as she was about to complain to =Audit= that this world seemed as boring as the last, she heard an interesting ad.

"You call them employees. We call them what they are: slaves."

"=Audit=, Slaves of Rubi-Ka. Give me any information you have."

"Yes, Master. <click> Slaves of Rubi-Ka: Mistress Zette DuMontaigne, President. Currently under investigation by Omni-Pol. Terms of Service. Advertisements."

"Alright... give me the public advertisements and Terms of Service."

=Audit= paused with a series of soft clicks and buzzes, then projected a screen ahead. Elle read through the various public advertisements twice, then studied the Terms of Service.

"=Audit=, Terms of Service. From a logical point of view, does the slave have rights? Is this legally binding on the part of the sellers and buyers?"

"Yes, Master. It is legally binding. The slave has certain rights, failure to recognize these rights will result in..."

"Yes, I can read that. Hmm..."

Elle ran a hand through her long black hair, then picked a piece of imaginary lint from her sweater. She hadn't brought her business suit. The entire point was to appear as average as possible. Elle wanted to earn a living for once. She wanted to start from the bottom. Her entire family had been at the top all of her life. She was the cream of the crop as she'd heard in some Old Earth movies. It was positively maddening.

She looked over at =Audit= and sighed, still tugging at the soft sweater.

She had nothing to lose, after all.

"=Audit=, take a dictation. Begin recording:

Dear Madam,

I would like to formally apply for your program..."

[Timewarped451]

Zette looked over Thayami and Elleiah’s applications. She had spoken to both girls and liked them immediately. They were exactly the type she was looking for. They were intelligent, potentially strong with a good sense of self and respectful without being obsequious. She had accepted them into SoRK without reservation.

Zette looked over her list of Slaves.

Kajira was the first, brought to Rubi-Ka by Razorclevage. Zette chuckled. If she knew Razor half as well as she thought, her partner in business probably bought or stole Kaji from her previous owner on Gor. Zette had heard of Gor, though she’d never been there. One thing she did know, Razor could never tolerate a slave being maltreated or undervalued. And Kaji was a prize. Kajira was now a member of Obsoleet and “free.” Zette snorted. “Free.” Yes, she knew how that worked. She still hadn’t been able to speak with Kajira since Arimathea stole her from Rompa. That is, “freed” her from Whaynn.

Unole was also “freed.” A member of Rompa Entertainment and devoted to her “Mentor.” Zette had brought Unole from Houme to Rubi-Ka. Unole had been ostracized by order of her Master for using the word “no” to another of the Master Class. She had been made a non-being by the society. No one would lift a hand to help her. No one would provide shelter, food, clothing or even a passing glance of recognition. Zette found her rooting through the trash heaps for something to eat and had taken the girl aboard her ship. Zette had asked questions about the girl. No one even acknowledged that she ever lived. The community had erased her from all records, but Zette had found a forgotten pedigree with the girl’s name on it. A thousand generations of selective breeding had brought forth a sweet tempered, compliant girl skilled in all the areas needed for a superior personal servant. Unole was even capable of assisting with management duties. She had been in service to a politically well-placed woman. It angered Zette that such a valuable asset would be literally tossed on the trash heap for such a small crime as saying “No” to a drunken fool who mistook her for a pleasure slave.

Then there was Mewzette, a poor voiceless child whom Zette had picked up on another world. It had taken the sale of most of her assets to purchase Mewzette. Only a nameless child 10 years ago, she was distant and unresponsive. One Master had owned her and had become so annoyed at her childish chatter that he had her silenced forever. Zette saw a resemblance between the sad child and the sister she’d failed to save, so gave the child the name Mewzette, in honor of her sister, and vowed that she would know no more cruelty in her sad life. Mewzette was not a slave… not for sale.

She looked again at the new applications. These were the first of the freeborn slaves.

Thayami. Timid, sweet, but Zette sensed strength. Coming from an abusive home, a military background and searching for a way out from under her Uncle’s thumb. Zette had listened to Thayami’s story and decided that SoRK might indeed be the best place for her.

Elleiah was different. Elle also seemed to be hiding, but Zette got the impression that Elle had her own agenda. In spite of this, Zette felt the young bureaucrat would make a good addition to the slave carrel. She thought back to her conversation with Elle.

“What made you apply to our Organization,” Zette asked.

“I was reading the recruitment advertisements,” Elleiah said, “Trying to decide what to do with myself. Yours... stood out, so to speak. The more I considered it, the more it seemed like a good idea for me”

Zette probed. “I'm still curious why you would want to be a slave, Elleiah.”

“I can't explain the exactly ‘why’... as I had never even considered it before. However, I feel that I can be myself best as a slave,” She answered. “I could possibly learn more. And serve better”

There was more to the conversation, but that was the primary idea behind it all.

Zette laid the applications down and stared into space. “I wonder how they will classify voluntary entry into slavery?” she thought and chuckled.