Instead of going into the infirmary, Kiera went into the changing room. Along the wall was a rack of brown jumpsuits, a box filled with the fluorescent yellow hardhats and a rack of workboots. Kiera walked over to the jumpsuits, checking the sizes until she found one that would fit, but still be a little baggy to hide her chest. She put it on over her clothing, grabbed a hardhat but decided not to change her shoes. The sneakers from the exam were just too good to give up. She turned around to leave and noticed a desk with two baskets on it. In one of the baskets were safety goggles and in the other were accessbands. The men likely weren’t wearing ID bands and used these to be able to operate their machines and vehicles. Kiera put on both and a menu appeared on the safety glasses.
It showed an error message: “Cannot connect to slave collar. Alerting supervisor.”
Before Kiera could take the band off a door to her right that she had overlooked opened. A tall man dressed like the workers stepped out of it, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked grumpily.
“My band’s on the fritz so I came to get a new one,” Kiera lied, “But it’s giving me grief.”
“You can only have one registered band a day,” he grumped, “You new or something?”
“First day. Excited to be working here.”
The man groaned and pinched his eyes, “Working? Yeah, that explains it. You’re not a wage slave yet. Okay, newbie. You probably don’t have a role yet, so I’m just going to register your band as a flex. Get on anything that’s free and follow the damn HUD. Or don’t, I don’t give a damn. I’m not the warehouse supervisor. C’mere.”
Kiera followed him into his office and gave him her band which he placed on a console. His viewscreen turned on and he pulled up a screen asking for a role assignment. He selected “flex” and the screen under the selection drop down changed listing the various vehicles and work areas that she would be allowed to use, including the transport truck.
“Here,” he said, handing her the band. His head tilted and his eyes narrowed, “Hold on a moment, you a woman or an Eladrin or something?”
“A muesa! Our appearance changes to be pleasing to whomever is looking at us. Usually we’re counselors, models, or are brought into places to improve morale,” Kiera flashed him her best smile. She hadn’t had to use her Radiance yet.
He groaned again, “A morale worker. You’re probably the incentive Fartbottom was threatening us with. Here.” he opened a drawer and took out a silver band, “This’ll let you into most places around this place. Do me a favor and go find some place to fark off to. I don’t care, the last thing those idiots need is to fight over some pretty face. It’s bad enough when they decide to brawl with the power loaders over nothing. Don’t need anyone killed.” He held up a hand before Kiera could speak, “Don’t argue, just get the hell out of here. As far as Fartbottom will know you showed up and are making pounds to spread your “morale improvements to everyone.”
“Thanks!” Kiera said. She frowned, “If you’re not the warehouse supervisor, then who are you?”
“The shipping and receiving supervisor. These days it’s more receiving than shipping. Now get out of here, go find a pleasure bot or something.”
Kiera left the office, hearing the door slam behind her. She wondered if all warehouse workers were like this or if this was a special case because of who they were working for. It wasn’t something she needed to worry about, the first thing she needed to do was get out of the palace, as far as what to do next…she’ll have to figure it out.
As she stepped back into the warehouse klaxons sounded. The door closed behind her and chimed to announce it had been locked. “All of you miserable, useless slaves report to the palace entrance immediately!” Tracksuit's voice shouted over the access band. The men grumbled as they climbed off of their vehicles and filed towards the area where they had put her cage. Kiera followed behind them but waited in the walkway aisle when they reached the front of the warehouse.
Tracksuit stood on the raised platform wearing the same blue and white tracksuit, as Mustache who stood beside him. The idiot looked at his worker-slaves, his face contorted in rage. “I want to know which one of you slack jawed morons broke open the cage my beloved bride was in! Not only is she now not where I want her, but Planetary Security is on their way!”
None of the men spoke
“No one is going to admit to letting her out? Do you think that I am stupid! I know one of you freed the love of my life, the only one that could bring light to my darkness! Whoever comes forward now will have a less severe punishment than the collective punishment that I will give you otherwise!”
The men still didn’t speak, one of them even coughed. Just when Kiera thought Tracksuit’s face couldn’t get any redder, one of the men spoke. “What in the Void are you talking about?”
“THE GIRL!” Tracksuit roared, “The angel of my dreams, the personification of beauty! She was in that cage!” he pointed to the cage Kiera had vacated, “And now she is not!”
“Kind of a dick move, putting someone you love in a cage,” the same man said, “Maybe the lock just short circuited.” The cut bars were still on the floor in front of the cage. Kiera stifled a laugh. The man didn’t even look at the cage.
A vein threatened to pop on Tracksuit’s forehead. Mustache put a hand on his shoulder and took a step forward, ”Your debt will increase by one hundred thousand credits for allowing His Graces’ bride to escape. Furthermore, anyone who speaks with Planetary Security and says anything about her will see their debt increase by half a million credits.” he paused as the men began to grumble. It was silenced when he held up a commpad. “Whoever finds the girl will have their debt erased and receive a sum of one hundred thousand credits.”
Kiera had expected some kind of excitement, some eagerness, any kind of reaction other than the complete disinterest that the men showed. It was a classic carrot and stick approach, and neither seemed to hold much power over the men. The commpad was obviously the controller for their collars. If the collars were disabled, would they revolt? It could be a useful distraction if she had Kinsley’s skills. She would have to hope that the silver access band actually worked.
Mustache panned his gaze around the men, “The rest of your debts will be reduced by fifty thousand credits if she is found within the hour. Each hour that passes that amount will be reduced by ten thousand. You are now all dismissed for lunch.”
The men began to walk down the main aisle towards the dressing room, grumbling about “not wasting my lunch hour looking for some whore”, and “I’ll talk to PlanSec if it gets me out of here. Mustache and Tracksuit headed for the elevator. He had held her in contempt, dismissed her, called her an ugly, mewling quim. Why was he now going to such great lengths to have her? Hiring top tier mercenaries and threatening the workers like that? The love of his life…
Realization dawned on her. Her birthday celebration. She had turned the full power of her focused radiance on Tracksuit. But instead of cowing him with fear like what would have happened with her father, she had made him completely infatuated with her, fully obsessed. Just like her mother predicted it had happened. But that was months ago? Shouldn’t the effects of her Radiance have faded by now?
Was the former king’s declaration her fault? Was she the reason that he had been killed? She tried to push those thoughts aside, she could deal with them later. It was something the Major kept telling them: when on a mission you had to turn off your emotions to keep a clear head and react appropriately. Grief, anger, joy, all those should be kept until the end of the mission debriefing. It was a hard thing for her to do, but now it could save her life. Leaving from the elevator wasn’t an option. The palace guards would likely catch her, and she would be hidden away where Planetary Security couldn’t reach her.
Her best option would be to leave the warehouse the way she was brought in and try to get Planetary Security’s attention. It was the most logical course of action that had the greatest chance of success. She headed down the aisle to the back of the warehouse. All the large doors were closed with a red ring around the control button. She swiped the silver access band across the nearest one, but nothing happened. On her HUD, she had forgotten about the glasses, a message appeared: “Insufficient clearance Lockdown has been initiated. No doors may be open without Level 5 clearance.”
Kiera ignited the energy sword and turned the magnetic field down until she was sure that it could cut through the door. It slid through easily. Carefully she cut a large circle into the door, while she didn’t want to hurt any people, she had no qualms about destroying Tracksuit’s property. The steel circle thudded against the concrete exterior dock, Kiera followed it adjusting the energy sword. She was greeted by the site of a large wall and a domed force field. The air was noticeably colder out here as well, but the worker’s jumpsuit provided enough warmth that it was tolerable. The entire palace was on lockdown, no one would be able to leave the grounds until it was ended. Her plan was thwarted. Even if she was Kierarrogant enough to think she could take care of all of the palace guards, the elevator was likely inoperable without the level five clearance
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“Okay, Kara, now what?” she murmured to herself. Across the loading dock was a garage, likely where the trucks were stored, but it was probably locked as well. Trying to cut her way through the wall was out of the question, there was likely a forcefield on the inside as well as the outside. Double layering was a common defense measure. The thought of surrendering herself crossed her mind, but she doubted she’d be given one hundred thousand credits and sent on her way. With a groan of annoyance she went back into the warehouse, she needed to sit and think.
The hallway that led to the changing room and the infirmary ended in a pair of large doors. Kiera walked through them and was greeted to the sight of a cafeteria. The workers, including the shipping supervisor, were sitting at the tables; some were eating others laying their heads down. There were view screens showing Videos of Tracksuit achieving amazing things, all of it likely fabricated. She sat at the supervisor’s table, he’d been somewhat kind towards her or at least he didn’t lust after her.
“That low on credits, kid?” the supervisor asked, “Explains why you took the job. Prices are ridiculous but eighteen hour shifts don’t give you much of a choice but to eat here. Rent’s gone up, too. They tell you room and board was part of the deal?”
“Yeah, being sacked with a hundred thousand credit debt wasn’t what I was expecting on my first day. Maybe I should find this girl and get out before it racks up higher,” Kiera grumbled.
The super snorted, “You find her and he’ll just accuse you of being the one who freed her and send you to the mines. We’ve seen it before. Those carrots they dangle are full of crap.”
“Seriously?” Kiera said, “Let me guess, there’s interest on the debt, too and we don’t get paid enough to pay it off, let alone the principal.”
“And get charged for every bloody thing,” the worker to her right groaned, “Break something, repair bill’s added. Go to the infirmary, have to pay for the visit and anything they give you. Driving the truck and fuel cell runs out? Gotta pay for someone to bring you out another one and the cost of the cell. Gotta pay for hot water, gotta pay for an extra blanket. We’re not slaves we’re debtors, small loophole that gets around the Empire’s no Slavery decree.”
“Is…is that everywhere in the Empire?” Kiera asked, doing her best to contain her outrage.
“Likely anywhere that used to have slaves,” the supervisor scoffed, “Dunno about any of that. You could probably get yourself a high palace position if you sleep with his royal asshole.”
“At the cost of my dignity, my self respect, and my sanity? Not if it was the only way to leave this room!” Kiera exclaimed, “How long will this lockdown last?”
“It’ll last until the girl is found, dead or alive. We’ll pay dearly if she’s found dead,” the supervisor said, taking a drag from his mug.
“It’s that dangerous here?” Kiera asked, “do people get killed often?”
“You haven’t seen the menagerie. His royal tracksuitness likes to go “hunting on safari” where he puts some dangerous beast in the exterior pen, buts on a suit of power armor or his Hunter Mecha and pretend like he took the beast down alone with nothing but a pulse blaster and his own skill. He’ll have half a dozen men with him and twice that many positioned around the pen to kill the beast at his signal,” the super scoffed, “Then take pictures of them and post them on the ImpNet.”
Kiera nodded “Where are the pens? If we’re locked down and not allowed to work I’d like to see them.”
“Bad idea, there’s an Alteran sa’kar that’ll rip you apart before you know it attacks. The beast is absurdly fast.” The worker across from her said, “Used to have a lot of deaths before Fartbottom put a dedicated crew on it that had some handling experience.”
“Ah. How about pleasure bots?”
“If you want to get pleasured we can sneak off to the pool floats and we’ll have some fun,” the man sitting on the other side of the super leered.
“Oh? I thought most of these men were straight. I prefer to top, if that’s okay with you.” Kiera said with a straight face. The man sputtered and the supervisor nearly choked on his drink, “Did I say something odd? I’m a musea. I may appear female to you, but I’m a male.”
“I’ll just show you where they are,” the man muttered.
Kiera just shrugged and followed the man into the warehouse. While they walked he explained how she could use her HUD to find her way around. A small button in the center of the glasses activated the voice input features and it would guide her to the sections that things were supposed to be in. He emphasized “supposed to.” With no way to pay the debt and the pain injections fairly uncommon, most of the wage-slaves just didn’t give a damn. The warehouse supervisor was rarely in his office. Either he was busy with a pleasure bot or drunk. Despite all of this, from what Kiera could tell the warehouse was well organized. Receiving was a hot mess, but the super didn’t care. One of the few things that were in the correct area, according to her guide, was the pleasure bots; he showed her how to find a new one, with everything that the word implied.
“The beast pens are pretty far from here,” she commented, “are they behind any kind of door that I won’t be able to get into because of the lockdown?”
“I don’t know, I won’t go feed them. Only the handlers or the supers do it and you can’t become a super unless you’ve done every job and been here fifteen years. The pool section has some floats or you could try the bedroom furnishings, but I’m going to leave you alone now.”
“And here I thought you were going to change your mind,” Kiera teased, which only prompted the worker to move faster.
She looked over the pleasure bots, she knew they existed thanks to the sex talk that she received from her mother. People on the ImpNet could register as sex workers and load into a doll. The features depended on the model; the more expensive the more life-like it was. Some could even walk around although there was controversy about it. Some outspoken people didn’t want someone on the ImpNet to be able to log into a robot and go roam around. Kiera thought it was a fascinating idea that could open up different exploration avenues, or allow workers to do jobs in highly dangerous areas without risking themselves. Opponents argued it was a slippery slope to develop artificial intelligence and herald in a brand new type of slavery.
Kiera found one of those models, a Doppelganger 5.8, and learned that it could also be operated via a remote control device. It was completely customizable up to and including being shaped to appear as another person, all you needed was a picture, or enable the doll’s “copy mode.” She was relieved that it didn’t copy the person’s exact body, at least it didn’t when she scanned herself, but she also didn’t take her clothes off beforehand. It was bad enough that Tracksuit probably used one with her face, she wasn’t going to risk this one connecting to some network and sharing one that was more Kieratomically correct. She dressed Doppel Kiera in her t-shirt and shorts, and then made her way to the pens.
In what she wholly believed to be an act of sheer stupidity, the cage area wasn’t secured by the lockdown. It showed that Tracksuit didn’t care one iota about his workers who would likely be slain to a man if these creatures were released. There were feeding holes near the tops of the cages wide enough to fit an average sized cow through, meaning anything smaller was fair game. Most of the creatures she didn’t recognize, but her HUD supplied their species while telling her each one was highly dangerous and advised her not to approach. There was also an open door leading to the outside.
“Okay Kara, how desperate would you be to walk down that corridor for a possible chance to escape this place, and you didn’t have a weapon, and you knew the soldiers would be hunting you down and then when they found you Tracksuit would chain you to a bed and rape you. Desperate enough to try to attack two mercenaries who stole you from the Academy, faked your death and delivered you into the hands of one of the dumbest, most arrogant assholes in the galaxy for millions of credits. Here we go.”
She activated the remote control and sent Doppel Kiera down the corridor to the exit. Some of the creatures looked up as the doll passed and one slowly moving creeper vine reached out of its cage. Even walking Kiera’s bot was faster than it. The HUD identified it as a Carnasian Thorny Shambler. Nothing else attempted to attack her, likely because the center path kept her well out of range. The few seeking claws or limbs didn’t make it past the caution line.
The remote allowed Kiera to see and hear whatever the doll did, and from it she heard some shouting of, “Hey, that’s the girl!” and “We’re tamers that don’t go out of this section, we won’t be blamed at all for releasing her!”
It was perfect. She turned the doll around and made it run as fast as she could, which admittedly wasn’t fast. She heard some laughter and the first of the men appeared in the doorway, “Hey, that girl’s mine!” Kiera shouted.
“If she’s yours then why don’t you have her!” the man taunted back, “No more shoveling shit for me! Shouldn’t have been too much of a coward to come into the Menagerie! How dumb are you? Haha!”
Kiera had the doll turn her head to look back at the men and steered her across the line. The laughter of the men turned into panic. Shouts of grab the tranqs and the prods broke out as the first beast attacked with a stinger tipped tail. plunging it into the doll. Without muscle fiber to latch onto, the impact just sent the doll flying forward, trailing the red dyed warming gem in its wake, and pushed her into the searching tentacles of the Thorny Shamber. Making contact with its prey sent the shambler into action. Thornry, tentacle-like vines rushed through the feeding opening and wrapped around the doll. They retracted, pulling her into the cage. If one of the men had a weapon before it began its attack then they probably could have stopped it or done some damage. The Shambler’s attack had been rapid the moment it found its prey. In their panic they couldn’t get the code into their equipment room open before the monster had fully retracted its tentacles. Kiera took that opportunity to toss the remote into a nearby shelf that was stocked with various crates of goats.
“You idiots got the girl killed! She was the love of his life or something!” Kiera shouted.
“Us? We didn’t chase her in here!” one of them snarled back.
“Yes you did! She was out the door and you could have just waited for her to wander wherever that door leads. Instead you spook her enough that she runs into the range of that, that tentacle thing!” Kiera turned to stomp away, “You morons can call Fartbottom and tell him that the girl is dead!”
There was another chorus of shouts, but Kiera ignored them. She had been lucky that it worked. If her luck held out then the lockdown would end and she would have an opportunity to leave.