for exiletoempire

[flamenoir]

Among the Galra’s prisoners, Blackfire was an anomaly. Most were afraid. A few were angry. In stark contrast to the rest, she was calm. None of the soldiers who’d captured her knew what a Tamaranean was, or why the security measures they’d taken to contain her were woefully inadequate. They had no idea about the Tamaranean ability to assimilate language nearly instantly with brief lip contact. They didn’t know that Tamaraneans could breathe and survive in the harsh environment of outer space without protective gear. They were unaware of the self-propelled flight the species was capable of. They’d only caught a glimpse of Blackfire’s physical strength and she’d refrained from using the starbolts unique to only her and her sister. The Galra forces had never branched out into the Vega system and the surrounding regions within the galaxy. They didn’t know what they were dealing with in the slightest. All Blackfire had to do was bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to escape.

Right now, she was spending that sitting by the vent and listening to the two guards stationed near the cells named Vallek and Nalveg gossip. They were surprisingly informative. Unintentionally so. This entire region had been conquered within the past five deca-phoebs, so most of the locals had a limited grasp of the Galran language. Since her capture, Blackfire had feigned only having a slightly better understanding of the rest. Enough that she translated commands to other prisoners and made herself useful, but she’d taken care to look suitably confused at much of what was said around her.

The idle chatter about this soldier getting in trouble for oversleeping, and that one sucking up to the commanding officers went silent when the base commander himself, Kralnak, approached the pair of guards. “Lotor is here.”

“Lotor as in the banished Prince?” Nalveg asked, surprise evident in his voice.

“The very same,” Kralnak confirmed.

“Sir, if I may, why aren’t we turning him away?” Vallek questioned. “He’s an exile. We don’t owe him any hospitality.”

“He’s done surprisingly well for himself for an exile,” Kralnak said. “He has conquered planets.”

“And let them rule themselves,” Vallek snorted derisively, like it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard in his life.

“That’s enough, Sergeant Vallek. Conquering planets means he has resources and money to spend. If he wants to spend some of that betting on the gladiator pits I’ve set up here, or buying some slaves, I will take his money and put it to good use upgrading and properly supplying this base. I expect you and Private Nalveg to be polite. We don’t owe him any allegiance, but we can treat him as a customer. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” both guards said humbly. They knew better than to challenge Commander Kralnak’s authority, especially when there was money to be made. The man’s pragmatism was outweighed only by his greed. The two stewed in silence as their commander walked away.

Blackfire perked up when she heard Commander Kralnak’s voice again. This was easily the most interesting conversation she’d eavesdropped on all day.

“And right down this way is where we have the prisoners. There’s a few rebels who are getting thrown into the gladiator pits tonight for sure, but we’re giving the rest the choice between fighting and slavery. It adds more of an element of surprise to the evening’s entertainment that way." Kralnak smiled, his enthusiasm for the event plain to see. Blackfire heard him talking earlier about how they were finally a proper region, now that they had their own gladiator pits to entertain the troops with.

"For a fee, I can let you meet the prisoners so you can make a more informed decision on who you might want to bet or bid on. Would you be interested, Lotor?”

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[exiletoempire]

"Most interested, Commander. Your hospitality leaves nothing to be desired." He smiled. Lotor was generally polite in his dealings with other Galra, when it suited him. Sometimes a little too polite, just enough to put them on edge when he seemed slightly less Galran than he should be.

"Knowledge is power, is it not? A fee is no issue." Inwardly, he thought that this tradition was one of the worst in the Empire. The gladiator pits were one of the greatest wastes of potential imaginable. Here were all these strong, capable, potential allies—a resource unto themselves—wasted in the pursuit of mere entertainment and petty greed. Experience had begun to harden Lotor to the sheer cruelty of the Imperial Machine, but not so much that he didn't experience a twinge of compassion, mixed with disgust, as Kralnak led him toward the cells.

Kralnak was one of his least favorite kinds of officers. At least someone like Commander Sendak, for all his many faults, had his loyalty—such as it was—to recommend him. Kralnak was interested only in himself, without a single principle to guide him. He was almost gleeful as he led Lotor forward, perhaps thinking of the wealth Lotor commanded, even in exile. Lotor did not, of course, intend to share that wealth with him. Most of it was funnelled back into the economies of the worlds from which it came. What Lotor was interested in was not wealth, but something else altogether. Wealth could help him obtain his goals, yes, but it was not his goal in and of itself.

Lotor studied the prisoners with interest, hiding his irritation with this custom as he did so. His interest, however, was not feigned, because he did sincerely want to know what kind of people he was dealing with here in the pits. Their strength was relevant to him. In the midst of this calm examination of the cells and their occupants, he suddenly paused. As much as he prided himself on being in control of his emotions, he couldn't suppress a flicker of feeling when he caught sight of the Tamaranean, though he quickly stifled it. Well, this called for a revision of his plans.

Raising his eyebrows, Lotor turned to Kralnak. "Are you still here? You will receive the fee you ask for." Lotor had not quibbled with him over the fee. He hoped to make him expectant of even more money in the future, so that his hospitality would not lessen. "I have no further need of company." Fortunately, this caused Kralnak to retreat, with the usual formal excuses. Although Lotor no longer had the authority of a prince, he acted as if he did when interacting with Galra, because that was what the Galra expected and responded to.

[flamenoir]

Blackfire got up from her spot beside the air vent where sound carried so well when she heard that Lotor was, in fact, taking up Kralnak on his offer. She knocked on the cell next to her to warn her neighbour that visitors were coming. A quick succession of knocks continued down the corridor, the sounnd halting abruptly when Kralnak opened the door. There was dead silence from the prisoners. This was not the first advance preview Kralnak had offered. Two others paid for that privilege before Lotor. The one prisoner who'd tried to use the first preview as an opportunity to break free was now nursing a potentially broken arm.

It was subtle, but Blackfire didn't miss the way Lotor reacted when he saw her. Although her hair and eyes weren't typical for her species, her complexion, the shape of her eyebrows, and her facial features were all the very model of a normal young Tamaranean woman. There was recognition there. She didn't know how much he knew about her kind, but the way he dismissed Kralnak was promising. The other two visitors hadn't done that, letting Kralnak tell them what each prisoner had been caught, what their estimated odds were against the current champion, what identifiable skills they had, and so on.

Combined with the gossip she'd overheard about Lotor earlier, this situation had a lot of potential. It was an opportunity to test how much he knew of her people's abilities, if nothing else. He seemed cautious and composed enough that she'd probably have to make the first move.

She started with something simple, calling out from her cell. "Hello Lotor." With a small chuckle, she added, "The sound carries from the air vents much more than they realize. I speak Galran much more fluently than they realize, too."

She didn't know if he'd open the cells as the other two had, but she might as well offer an open invitation.