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+--- Thread: Warren Belch (/showthread.php?tid=21013)
Warren Belch - Capt. Henry Morgan - 05-25-2009
802 AS
Planet Houston, Texas System, Liberty
The child was running through the dusty paths between the ramshackle shacks. He couldn't let them catch him, so he ran as fast as he could. He turned down a particularly narrow path between two shacks, certain that he'd be safe here. As he ran down the alley, he saw one of the people chasing him come around the corner behind him. He looked ahead, and saw that someone had recently erected a fence through the alley. He tried to climb it, but he couldn't. It was too high. He was trapped, with no place to go. He felt a hand touch him.
"Tag, you're it!"
The hunted now became the hunter, and the chase resumed.
Life was rough here, in one of Houston's many shanty-towns. Most of the people here had no chance at a better life, no hope at lifting themselves out of the gutter. The child, at 8 years old, was still at that age where he was unaware of these facts, though. To him, life was as simple as figuring out what game to play with his friends.
As he continued the game of tag, he heard a loud noise overhead. He looked up, and saw a large, blocky-looking ship, flanked my two much smaller ones. On the underside of the larger ship, he saw the emblem of the LPI. Not knowing what else to do, he ran towards home. As he ran, he heard the sounds of panicky adults, as well as what sounded like weapons fire. As he arrived at his house, he saw three men in LPI uniforms kicking in the door of his house. He hid behind an empty box, and watched what was happening.
From within the house, he his father shouting. "Get out of my house! We haven't done anything wrong!" He then heard a shot being fired, and his mother screamed. She then ran out of the door, and in his general direction. He came out of hiding, meaning to run to her. She saw him, and shouted to him. "Warren, run!" He hesitated. He didn't want to leave her, but he was afraid. One of the LPI officers came out of the house, and raised what looked like a rifle. He fired it, and his mother fell to the ground, with some sort of metal dart in her back.
He ran as fast as he could, but he didn't get far before running into another LPI officer. This one had what looked like a pipe, with electricity on the end. He tried to turn and run, but he felt pressure on his shoulder, then everything went black.
Warren Belch - Capt. Henry Morgan - 05-27-2009
A short time later
Warren's head was pounding. He didn't know what happened to him, but he was beginning to wish he was still asleep. He opened his eyes and looked around. It was nighttime, so several hours had probably passed. He saw that he was chained into a small cage, which didn't provide him much room to move. He saw that there were a lot of similar cages with people in them, some adults, some children. He saw no sign of his parents. He remembered again what happened to them, and realized he'd never see them again. He began to cry quietly.
After a few minutes, he heard footsteps in the dirt outside his cage. They came to a stop in front of him. He dried his eyes as best he could. He didn't want these men to see him cry. He looked up at them. One was a man in an LPI uniform. He was one of the ones he saw enter his house. He didn't recognize the other one. He was a somewhat grimy-looking man, wearing a uniform of some sort. The LPI officer spoke.
"Well, Captain, here's the last one. As you can see, he's a healthy young boy, sure to serve your client for years to come. Obviously worth a considerable sum, eh?"
With a start, Warren realized what was going on. His parents had warned him about slavers, but he never expected to be captured by one. The slaver captain looked him over, as if he were an animal.
"He certainly seems healthy enough. Looks a bit young, though. I suppose he'll still be useful, though. I'll take him, along with the others. I'll give you 800 credits each for the lot."
"800? Certainly a group this good is worth at least 1500 credits a head. They're certainly healthier than the ones you get from Sugarland, and definitely worth the extra price."
"They wouldn't be worth 1500 a head if they crapped solid gold. Make it a thousand credits a head. That's my final offer. Take it or leave it."
The LPI officer hesitated a bit, clearly unhappy with the price, but unwilling to lose the sale.
"Fine, a thousand a head it is. You drive a hard bargain, sir."
The Slaver captain passed a credit chip to the LPI officer. "A pleasure doing business with you, sir."
As the LPI officer turned to leave, Warren felt an anger he had never known in his life. He jumped to the bars of his cage, and stuck his head through the bars. The chains made it difficult, but he didn't care. He shouted at the officer.
"You killed them!"
The officer looked at him, but didn't say anything.
"My parents are dead because of YOU! I promise, I'll kill you!"
The LPI officer just laughed at him. "That'll be a little hard where you're going." With that, he turned and walked away.
After a short time, robots started loading the cages into the cargo hold of a large ship. Warren didn't know what to expect, but he didn't think it was going to be good. He began to cry again. From the sounds around him, he wasn't the only one.
One month later
Warren had lost track of how long he had been inside the cage in the dark confines of the cargo hold. He had long since stopped noticing the stink of so many bodies crammed into such a small space. Things had long since gotten quieter, with some of the slaves losing the will to live. Warren, though, wasn't ready to die. He had his anger to sustain him on the long journey to wherever it was he was going. Next thing he knew, the ship started shaking slightly. He had been almost asleep, but the new sensation had him fully awake. The ship gave one final lurch, then everything went silent. The ships great engines, which he has stopped noticing, suddenly went quiet.
A couple minutes later, the doors of the cargo bay opened, bathing the ships interior with light. Loading robots began unloading the cages from the ship, separating them into several different areas. After they all got settled, a large number of men carrying rifles, and with whips on their belts approached the line that Warren's cage was in. One particularly large, cruel looking man stepped forward from the others. He looked over the people in the cages without a hint of compassion. When he spoke, it was with a heavy accent, with which Warren was unfamiliar.
"Welcome to Malta. Your lives as you've known them are over. From this day forward, you will do what you're told, when your told to do it, without question. Do this, and we'll get along just fine. Fail to do this, and you'll wish you had never been born."
With that, the man smiled. It was a cruel smile, clearly indicating that he wouldn't mind at all if the slaves refused to do as they're told. After a moment, he continued.
"When your cage opens, your chains will be released. You will step forward out of the cage, and not move. Any attempt to escape will be severely punished. Any movement at all will be severely punished."
One by one, the cages opened. The first person stepped forward, and did as he was told. Another guard walked up to him, and touched a device of some sort to the slave's face. The man screamed and fell to the ground. Where the device had touched him, there was now a mark, like a barcode, burned into his face. When the next cage opened, the woman inside tried to run. She made it about 3 meters before she was intercepted by a guard. The guard hit her in the stomach with the but of his rifle, then removed the whip from his belt, and struck her several times. As she lay on the ground, the guards roughly pulled her to her feet, and pushed her back into line. She then received her mark. After that, the rest were too afraid to attempt any moves at all.
When the door of Warren's cage opened, he stepped forward slowly, not really wanting to, but afraid of what would happen if he didn't. When he finally stopped, the guard looked him over, then touched the marking device to his face. The pain was unlike anything Warren had ever felt before in his life. As he felt the mark being burned into his skin, everything mercifully went black.
RE: Warren Belch - Capt. Henry Morgan - 07-21-2018
824 AS
Planet Malta, Omicron Alpha, Nación Maltesa
Twenty-two years had passed since Warren arrived on Malta. Warren's journey to manhood hadn't been an easy one, but he learned to adapt to his situation. Repeated beatings had taught him the price of openly defying his masters. He learned to play the part of a loyal slave, but in his heart, he never lost hope that he would taste freedom again one day, and perhaps get revenge on the people who had condemned him to a lifetime of servitude.
He didn't really blame the Maltese. Hated them, yes, but he didn't blame them. Without importing so many slaves, it's likely that their civilization would've collapsed entirely due to an unsustainably low birthrate. The cardamine mutation that gave them their long lifespans robbed them of their ability to sire new generations. Even though he understood them and their need to survive, he still hated them for it. They took too much pleasure in their cruelty for him to feel otherwise.
Over time, his masters came to recognize Warren's intelligence, and he managed to gain their trust. They gave him a basic education, and taught him to fly a spacecraft for short cargo flights. Free Maltese pilots were needed for combat operations and longer range flights, so it was useful to them to use slaves for the shorter hops. They never trusted him with anything armed or equipped with a cruise engine, and they rationed out his cardamine and provisions so he would have only enough, and no more. Still, it was the closest thing to freedom he ever experienced, and he began to look forward to any time in the cockpit he could get.
He also began to make friends with the slaves who worked on the loading and maintenance crews at the spaceport. Eventually, Warren learned who he could and could not trust. Many slaves would gladly sell out their own for the smallest of favors. Over time, he gathered a loyal, capable crew and they began to make plans for escape. Grabbing a ship off the landing platforms and getting away to freedom wouldn't be easy, so they had to take their time. Most of the ships that came to Malta were either too slow to escape or too heavily crewed to capture. Their opportunity would come, though. They just needed to keep their eyes open and seize the chance when it arrived.