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Slavery’s been rampant in the Fringe long before you were ever born. Growing up in the Federation, you often heard stories about newly established colonies disappearing overnight, raided by pirates who easily overran a woefully underequipped defense force and pillaged everything. Slavers had no room for that which they could not use, so the entire adult population was usually wiped out, while children were taken aboard for transport to Sedon-VI. The ten-to-twelve age range was preferred: “old enough to be used, young enough to be broken” was the oft-repeated adage. What happened on Sedon-VI, you have yet to know. It was a truth that many pirates purchased slaves to augment their crew, particularly since slave trainers went to great lengths to ensure that their wares were adequately educated in such delicate matters as piloting. You’ve never thought to do so, feeling safer in the knowledge that your crew’s loyalty was genuine and not forced upon them by some mind-altering training regimen.
“Profitable,” you remark laconically. Icoman inclines his head.
“That’s right. I hadn’t intended on it, to be honest, but I caught a tip on my last outing that there was a colony suffering from chronic malfunctions in its defense satellites. Couldn’t pass that up.”
“Could’ve been a Fleet trap.”
“But it wasn’t,” he replied. “And I’m all the better for it.”
The fish casserole arrives. You offer Icoman a portion, but he declines, so you begin to tuck in while he surveys the restaurant. You notice that he’s made some subtle upgrades to his own wardrobe, including what looks like armorweave inside his blue jacket. You’re about to make a comment about it when there’s a loud crash from behind you. Icoman’s eyes widen slightly and you twist around to see two restaurant patrons grappling with each other near an upended table!
>Intervene in the fight.
>Stay in your seat.
