The lockdown continued until Planetary Security left. They made an appearance in the worker’s cafeteria but made no attempt to interview anyone. Mustache came into the room and demanded to know who chased the girl and how they could be so unaware of their surroundings that they didn’t notice they had reached the menagerie. Apparently the person in question’s access band tracker wasn’t working. No one replied, causing another fifty thousand credits added to their debts. Kiera could understand how the punishment didn’t really faze anyone; they couldn’t ever pay off their initial or recurring debt, so adding more didn’t make much difference. The punishment aspect of the slave collars wasn’t deployed either making them ineffective at best. Only Kiera and the supervisor in the cafeteria.

Kiera didn’t know his name and didn’t want to give him a derogatory nickname especially after he bought her lunch. It wasn’t fantastic, but it was better than that dry cracker she ate before. The time differences were really throwing her off.

“What’s stopping anyone from just walking out?” Kiera asked.

“We’re in the Empire and no one has an ID band,” the supervisor said, he’d warmed up to her considerably after hearing about Doppel Kiera’s death. “At least one that is recognized. Can’t buy anything or go anywhere. The nearest town is nearly two hundred kilometers away through rather inhospitable mountains. It’s also winter so everything is covered in several meters of snow. Blizzard is supposed to come through tonight.”

“What about the shipments?”

“They land in the crater and then ferried up here by truck, nothing’s gone out since the tracksuits arrived. Things were a lot better before they took over the place. We weren’t wage slaves until they got here six months ago. Place turned to ash real quick.”

“Any way to get out of here before the storm hits?” Kiera asked. The man hesitated, “Let me make it worthwhile to you. Supply me with a datapad that has all the incriminating evidence that you can, the slavery might suffice on its own. When I get back out to a city I’ll contact Planet Security and give them what you supplied. Since the access bands act as a collar, that's solid evidence.”

“Oh to be young, hopeful and naive again. Can you fly anything?”

Kiera smirked, “This is the Empire. If you can drive a hovercraft you can operate a starship.”

The man stared hard at Kiera, she could almost see him weigh the options in his mind. She waited, letting him come to his own decision. She didn’t want to say anything and quench any hopes that had started to spark inside of him.

“The menagerie is your best bet,” he said slowly, “From there you can take a suit of power armor and make it through the mountains. Most of the panthra and the horned bears will be hibernating. Need to watch out for the winter wolves. They have a sack in their throats that collects and chills nitrogen that can be released as a spray. Get hit with that and it’s game over. You’ll freeze to the point of not being able to move and then you’re dead.”

“You mentioned a hunting mecha,” Kiera said, “Unless he does all the maintenance himself, someone will need to pilot it, can you grant me access? It’ll probably be safer than the armor.”

“Piloting a mech isn’t anything like driving a hovercar, kid. I barely managed it a couple of times. The only person that has access to pilot the mecha other than Tracksuit is the Mecha Super. That bastard is a professional ass kisser. He won’t hesitate to sell you out in a hot second.”

It was Kiera’s turn to stare at the supervisor, he just called the prince Tracksuit. That wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it either, when he told her about the menagerie he called him “his royal tracksuitness” and referred to both him and Mustache as “the tracksuits.” She wracked her mind, did she slip up? No, she didn’t refer to the idiot once.

“When did you figure it out?” she asked quietly.

“Princess, I’m the shipping supervisor. I keep track of everything and everyone that comes into this warehouse. Do you think that they would be smart enough to call you by something other than the Imperial Princess?” he asked, “Or that I wouldn’t recognize you? Tracksuit has been lamenting about you and pining for you since he got here, and we all saw what you did to him. I loved that tongue lashing you gave that arrogant prick.” He smirked, “You’re pretty quick witted. Getting Forty-Nine to free you, claiming to be a musea and a male, then faking your own death. Got guts, too. You’ll need to get into maintenance and from there somehow work your way into the mecha section.”

He led Kiera into his office and took off her wristband, putting it on the terminal, “I’m upgrading your access so you can use any of the mechanical equipment in that section. I’m going to recommend that you do what you did over here; steal a uniform, but this time don’t get caught by the Super. Get on an empty barge and follow your HUD and keep your head down. I’ll give you access to the showers. The idiot also has been importing women’s clothes including small clothes so you’ll have something to change into.”

“Understood. By the way, what’s your name?” Kiera asked.

“That’s the first thing they take from you, kid. I haven’t had a name in twenty five years. Go ahead and get out of here. With luck you’ll beat that blizzard.”

“I’m not leaving without your testimony, sir,” Kiera said, “I want hard evidence, not just my word against his. I’m a cadet in the Mechanized Combat Corps, my word doesn’t weigh very much. I’ll wait to get out of here until after that blizzard if I need to. Nobody is looking for me right now, everyone thinks I’m dead.”

The supervisor gave her the barest of nods. He’d been enslaved too long to have any hope that he’d be walking out of this place a freeman. He likely believed he’d be here until he died and then fed to one of the creatures in the menagerie.

“If they took your name then I’m going to give you another one,” Kiera said. This man knew who she was the moment she walked through the door and covered for her. Now he was giving her the tools that she needed to escape. She had to pay him back, both with his freedom, and maybe some dignity, “Thank you, Alphonse D’targnan. For everything.”

“Alphonse D’Targnan?” he asked skeptically, raising his eyebrows.

“From the Epic of Celica. He was Celica’s loyal and faithful knight that supported her in everything she did, despite it costing him his knighthood and his life. Ever since you saw me you’ve supported me. I’d bet your debt that Forty-Nine came to you and asked for this sword. The shipping super would know if there was one in the warehouse and might ask why it was needed.” Kiera smiled at him. His emotions gave him away.

“Get out of here, kid.”

“I’ll be back for that datapad.” Kiera pressed the button on her HUD glasses, “Maintenance department.”

-[]-

Unlike the dock, the maintenance department was well organized and the men were openly lazy. She saw two of them sleeping on a drivable cart that had a variety of tools, likey what Alphonse had referred to as a barge. They looked like the vehicles she saw with the long forks. Unlike the sixteen hour shifts worked by the warehouse, maintenance worked three twelve hour shifts; Dalimar had a thirty-six hour day. She didn’t know where she was in their shift schedule, but no one paid her any attention as she passed through their area and into the changing room. Their jumpsuits were blue and instead of a hard hat they wore blue caps; Kiera had to cut her hair to shoulder length for the academy and was glad about that now, she could put her hair up to hide it under the cap like she did with the hard hat.

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There was also a cabinet with tool belts containing everything she would need for ordinary maintenance. Once she was changed she walked out onto the floor, climbed onto an empty barge, and followed the HUD. She was once more grateful to Jac and his training, particularly the mechanics that showed her the ins and outs of maintenance. Ransing’s classes had filled in a lot of the gaps.

Most of the machines she was assigned to work on had similar components to the mecha, especially the power loaders. The lifts took her a bit longer but the HUD would often identify the problem and guide her through the process of repairing it. The blizzard hit without warning putting the palace once more into lockdown, but Kiera continued to work. At the end of her first shift on the first day she made her way back to the warehouse and gathered some of the stored blankets and pillows; there were abandoned “partners” among them prompting Kiera to pick her bedding carefully and find a different part of the warehouse to make her nest.

Her new access band gave her some of the same functions of an Imperial ID band. It kept track of her accounts, let her access the various machinery and doors, send a message or call other workers and kept track of the time.

Kiera took the time to find a makeup kit and tried to make herself appear more masculine. She didn’t have a lot of experience applying her own makeup; she never needed it. Grease from the machines she worked on helped. Two days later when one of the maintenance workers stopped her while she was finishing up on repairing a servo on a powerloader.

All he said was “Boss wants to see you” before driving off.

The maintenance area supervisor had his own office that wasn’t inside any of the other rooms. In many ways it was like a small apartment rather than an office. She stepped inside to find him on a couch, watching some kind of action film with gratuitous explosions.

“Seventeen got his hand caught in a gear rotor,” he said without preamble, “Since that dumbass can’t do any complicated repairs, I’m moving you to his place. Got any problem with that?”

“Getting his shift and his pay since I’m doing his work?” Kiera asked, trying to keep her voice rough and low.

The super laughed and stood up. He walked over to a refrigerator and pulled out two bottles, one he threw to Kiera. “Of course not, you dumbass. You’re working doubles until it’s decided to give him a proth, or feed him to one of the Asshole's beasts. Got a pair of balls on you though. Enjoy that sakoosa”

“You going to update my access so I can move that thing?” Keira scoffed, catching the bottle.

“You’re not moving it, just doing maintenance. Anything that requires you to be in the pit will be done by Kesslewitz. I can’t give that access anyway. Just be glad that it’s second shift and the moron works first. Now get back to work.”

Kiera left the office and headed back to her spot. She was one step closer to getting out of here, and the sakoosa might be just what she needed. Her shift ended and her next one wouldn’t start for another twelve hours. Well, whoever’s barge she had stolen. No one had come forward to complain at all, why would you if someone else took your shift and did all your work while getting paid? She made her way to Alphonse’s office.

“You have that datapad?” she asked when he answered the door.

“Two hundred terabytes of information, including the contract that brought you here,” he said, “The benefit of requiring everything to come through the warehouse.” He handed her to the pad but didn’t let go when she took it, “That storm is still raging. Be smart about it.”

“I will,” Kiera said, “I don’t want to try to fly an unfamiliar mecha into a mountain snowstorm. The controls are all the same, or at least similar, but they all handle differently. I’m not looking to get killed.”

He released the pad, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, working on machines builds up an appetite.”

Alphonse had been buying her meals and her shower access, after all what was more debt?. None of the warehouse workers cared that a maintenance worker was eating in their cafeteria or that he was always eating with their supervisor, they didn’t really care about anything, partially due to stealing some of the party drugs that came through receiving.

Stardust was a popular one,Stardust, an inhaled hallucinogenic that could severely damage the brain and make addicts physically dependent on it. Dependents were known as “Dust Zombies” and existed in a daze doing whatever they were told for their next fix. It dulled your perceptions and wreaked havoc with your memory. Moon Sugar when consumed on its own gave a burst of energy that ended in muscle fatigue and soreness. Too much could cause your heart to burst or lead to tearing muscles and ligaments. Sakoosa was a highly addictive, potent narcotic drink made from moon sugar that dulls the senses and makes the drinker relaxed and suggestive. The withdrawal effects included increased anxiety, shakes and hypertension. A lot of the workers used sakoosa when they could. Valkyrie Oil was absorbed into the skin. It was a potent psychedelic that gave hallucinations that would last for hours followed by nightmares, extreme paranoia, and insomnia. Of course there was also liquor, none of the Xho whiskey, however.

Kiera returned to her next shift with a six pack of sakoosa. Her first task was to fix the gear rotor, including getting the mangled hand out of it and washing down the blood. Everything else was spot checks and waxing the chassis; Tracksuit had ordered his hunting mech be shining at all times.

“This storm!” the super growled coming out of his office as Kiera came down from the mech, “I thought you lost a hand.” He growled.

“Seventeen lost his hand, if you want it you can have it,” Kiera said tossing the appendage to the supervisor, “I’m the lucky bastard that gets to do twice the work with no extra pay.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep bitching about it, I don’t care. You test the gyros yet, make sure that damn thing can prance about?” He let the severed hand fall to the ground and then kicked it away.

“Spot checked ‘em, won’t know if they’re still good without doing a full work up and taking it for a trial run,” Kiera said.

The super spat on the ground, “I’m not going out there in that storm to do a damn gyro test,” the super snorted.

“Either you or his Grace,” Kiera said, tossing him a bottle of sakoosa, from her barge “Not like it has to be done now.”

The super raised his eyebrow, “Where the hell did you get this at?”

“Maint Super, asked him if I was getting Seventeen’s pay and he gave me that,” Kiera said, “Saw a couple of the warehouse guys with them when I was dropping off a loader, asked them where it was and they told me. Farking zombies.”

The super laughed and opened the bottle, “Screw that moron, he’s not coming back over here. Fartbottom can feed him to a zalazsaurus for all I care. You’re mine now. Screw doubles.” he tipped the drink back and took a long drag, “Ah, been too damn long since I tasted that. C’mon.”

Kiera followed him into his office, which was a lot like the other maintenance supervisors. She joined him on the couch, “Damn fop said he won't send down any of his girls because he’s ‘drowning in sorrow’ and the damn storm is preventing his soldiers from getting any more.”

“Wish I could drown my sorrows in whores,” Kiera said pretending to take a sip.

“Who doesn’t? We’ll just have to drown our sorrows in sakoosa.”

It didn’t take long for the man to look visibly relaxed. Kiera handed him a second bottle which he leisurely accepted and drank. He leaned his head back against the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Do you have the key to the mecha?” Kiera asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I want to take it out for a flight, give it to me.”

The super laughed and stood up. He staggered over to his desk and pressed his accessband against a drawer. A six inch circular section of his desk rose up with a thumb length datadrive inside a transparent container. “There you go, fly to town and grab us both some whores, wait for this farking storm to end. Won’t be able to find whores otherwise.”

“Right,” Kiera said. She had been too focused on her plan and had forgotten about the storm. At least she was in a position to take the mecha and leave the palace. For the first time since her kidnapping, Kiera relaxed. She had the key to her freedom, and the evidence to free these men, and send Tracksuit and Mustache to a hard labor penal colony for the rest of their lives.