It is rare for someone to be imprisoned in space but if they do it would be of the same level as a war crime. Warmongerers, people who generally cause chaos in the galaxy are put into a prison we called the Panopticon. The Panopticon is an old concept put into actual form through a potable prison rocketing through space.

First, let's talk about the Panopticon as a concept. The Panopticon is supposed to be a prison wherein the prisoners are being observed at all times by a singular guard without knowing where that guard is. The thing is, it is impossible for a guard to watch prisoners all at once but there is the catch. The prisoners have no clue if they are being watched or not since they don't know where the guard is. So imagine this, a guard has a complete view of everyone in the prison but he can only focus on one at a time, on top of this, the prisoners cannot see the guard, so they can't do anything since they don't know even where or when the guard is looking to someone in the prison.

This is the concept that we had put into practice with our maximum-security prison in Andromeda. We call it the Jikalal Malt, it is connected to a massive satellite which is sent through space. It's made up of multiple layers with almost one thousand rooms to hold all of the prisoners, each one of these layers spin to give them a sense of artificial gravity, and at least two guards are set to be watching over each floor. The reason why we have assigned more than two guards is so they can switch places during the break. They can never be too careful. You assume that the anxiety of being watched would be enough but some can't seem to get it through their head, so, when someone does something bad, they all get punished. They will either get gassed, the temperature will become colder or hotter, depends on the guard's mood.

Other punishments include limiting food supply, adding extra g-force to artificial gravity, et cetera. It's not like the guards are in the gravity chambers with them after all.

Commentaries from the Abyss, Ludis Minor, Commander of Terra.

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The party has begun and merchants from all sorts of backgrounds pour into the venue. Tables with food laid about them, some rather indulging in the food, opting to only drink from the wine. The Gambler is the only one that stands out among them being the only person to arrive not wearing formal wear, casually sifting through the crowds, analyzing the many different races gathered here. Ren stands in the patio above, looking down on everyone, two staircases running on the sides. The price of admission is impossible for a normal citizen, which is why they held a venue like this in the first place. Merchants, marriageable partners. Ren may already be engaged but if someone who doesn't know comes and finds out, they can still gain a connection.

Ren sighs as one of her sisters appears from behind, a ball being held within the castle while a venue is held outside. The second princess Lo'initea Miri Piolari, a girl smaller in size compared to Ren with long blond hair, green eyes, and just like ren, scales coming across her ears - people only call her Miri.

Miri gives Ren a coy smile as she walks to her side, "How's the party?" Miri asks, leaning on the patio's railing.

Ren ignores her, trying her best to keep her patience.

"You look better with a smile sister." She pauses, "Look at me, I was in the same situation you are ten years ago but now look at me! I'm as happy as can be."

"You say that while your husband fucks the nearest consort he could find every day of the week - tell me that's happiness and I'll spit at your feet."

Miri blows air out of her nose, "You..." Miri swallows her pride. "I'm just trying to reassure you, sister. You have Ishval, he has been loyal to you since you were but a baby... you can trust him as a husband."

"I don't want to marry someone who uses the Jeek'liak on me when they know I'm right! Anyone who uses the Jeek'liak on anyone but their enemies is no husband of mine! I want to be free, not tied down to some waste of breath of a man who believes himself to be most righteous when he is not!"

"Ishval has been your friend for years! Do you not feel anything for him?"

"I have only considered him a friend, nothing more, and forcing me to be any more than that is nothing less than immoral."

"Ren... this is-"

Ren cuts her off, sneering. "Tradition is what holds us back, sister! Tradition is what prevented us from reaching the space age without another planet's influence! Tradition is arrogant at best, filled with egocentric filth and polyamorous bigotry since they are tied for life! A husband and wife should only have love for each other and where there is no love there should not be a marriage at all, tis is simple but you all ignore it, biting your quivering lower lips while you watch as your husband's joyfully fuck the nearest woman they find! I'm not like that Miri! I will not sit idly by as I watch my husband fuck a woman other than me like you and sister do yearly! Don't even allow divorces either, absolutely insane."

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Miri grits her teeth, heading back into the ballroom behind Ren.

Ren sighs, taking another sip of wine as a knot in her throat grows, holding back tears.

The Gambler takes pieces of food here and there, analyzing the locals as some of them walk up the stairs with a carefree saunter. The Gambler looks up to see the princess in who this party is based around sulking on the patio, bored, the Gambler heads up the stairs as well. The Gambler stops near Ren, a wineglass he picked up along the way in hand, taking a sip. The Gambler clears his throat, "The wine glasses are really foreign to me, the glass is spun into itself until it makes a small bowl-like shape, I'm not used to that," He pauses, "It also... feels like it's living." The Gambler takes a hesitant sip of the wine, looking impressed.

"I'm not interested in whatever you're selling peddler, also aren't you wearing the Not'iriteen at a party? Why is that?"

The Gambler looks confused for a moment before putting it together, "Oh! I just wear anything comfortable. It is a bit awkward but it's better than wearing those stuffy suits, posh bastards. Never liked the rich."

"Aren't you rich?"

"Not... really? Also, I'm not here for business. I'm here because it's been a really long time since I've been to a party or even interacted with another living being for that matter, literally some hours ago has been the first time in twenty years for me!" The Gambler shivers, awkward picking at his rings.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No fucking clue."

"I am the third princess."

The Gambler takes a sip of his wine and chuckles, "A gorgeous princess you are," The Gambler casually nods as if pointing at Ren.

"Don't flatter me, nobody unironically believes that the brutish princess of the Piolari to be gorgeous unless they were trying to get a good favor in."

"Well, I'm not one of them, also did you say brutish? What makes you brutish, to me you look normal?"

"What makes me brutish...? well they all say that because I'm rude, express my opinions too much, et cetera."

"Nothing wrong with that. Just don't become a pessimist, it'll ruin everybody's day, but if you have some value in what you say, you should speak your mind. If they consider you expressing such as brutish... well." The Gambler pauses, "I am reminded of... my planet. When I used to live there, in history there was a time wherein if women actually had something to say, or made a discovery that no one else had, they would be put against a stake and burned, labeled a witch. Is that what your society is like as well?"

"That seems... extreme."

"It was, I wasn't there for it though."

"Wait, you are from Terra correct?"

"You could say that." The Gambler makes a solemn expression. "I don't know too much about your society though so don't take some of what I say to heart because I'm assuming here, if none of the people around you don't consider your feelings, they don't love you for who you are they only love you for what you stand for. You've probably realized that by now though."

"You are good at... inferencing."

"It's easy to do in this situation since it is all too familiar to me. The dark ages of my world were the same, I bet that rape is considered the woman's fault yes?"

Ren scowls.

"I was right..." The Gambler clicks his tongue, "It's too formal, I hate it. This language is too stiff and respectful."

"My mother was raped by my father and was forced to become the queen because she was going to have a baby. I never knew until I was older..."

"Jesus... what type of society is that...?" The Gambler grinds his teeth, "How aggravating."

"Of course, my mother was reluctant to marry him, but once it has been decided by a man to marry a woman in this society, it can only be decided by the man. It works for most but some actually have common sense."

Ishval comes up from behind the two talking, chiming in, "Who is this man Ren?"

Ren spins around and looks Ishval in the eyes, "It isn't any of your concern Ishval."

"He looks like a peasant, of course, it is of my concern."

"Would it be of my concern if when we're married you have a concubine with you then?"

The Gambler coughs, not speaking their language, "Holy shit! That's a reach!" The Gambler chuckles nervously, going back to speaking their language again, "You're being hyperbolic princess."

"Yes, I am. Is it not a good question to ask though?" She turns to The Gambler.

"Well, no, it isn't a bad question to ask at all but I'm not your lover by any means."

Ren chuckles, looking back to Ishval, "So? What's your answer?"

Ishval clicks his tongue, "I would never have a-"

"You say that... they all say that but it is a lie, nay, it is encouraged for the men in this society to have concubines!"

The scales on Ishval's body pulsates wildly in anger. "R-"

"Don't you dare use the Jeek'liak on me Ishval!"

"What the hell is that? The Jeek'liak?" The Gambler asks, his drone appearing behind him.

"It means, the king's breath," The drone speaks, "Only the Cakas'mirilin can use it, allowing them to control a person's body temporarily through their vocal cords. Those who are supposed to be heirs to the thrown are taught personally by the king in how to use it, even generals are taught."

The Gambler sighs, "I'd like to know that..."

Ishval looks to the Gambler, confused.

"How can I learn that?"

The drone speaks again, "You cannot learn it traditionally. You will need to adjust your vocal cords through your suit's system manually and then you'd learn the technique from there, but the king will not teach you unless you are of his race and are of the other requirements mentioned before."

"Bummer..."

"You are from Terra, yes?" Ishval asks, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah...?"

"What language are you speaking then with that drone of yours? That isn't Terrian."

"Does it matter?" The Gambler growls, cracking his thumbs, putting his back against the railing of the patio. "I am a foreign entity on your planet almost exactly like a Terrian, I still have the same rights as them do I not so why does it matter if I can speak their tongue?"

"You are playing with fire... what is your name?"

"Just call me the Gambler."

"That is a title, not a name."

"I abandoned my name twenty-three years ago and I will not say my name unless I know you more personally."

Ishval lets out a long sigh, looking back over to Ren and then leaving. Ren sighs as well, dipping below the patio railing, sweat coming down her brow. "Fucking..."

"This might be an irritating day but this is the most fun I've had in a while. Consulting, affirming, being the aggressor, I haven't done so much in so... so... long."

"You are interesting..." Ren mumbles, standing up straight.