He could pay off his debts to Grotto, and either relinquish the expatriation fee for himself or fund a homestead for his family. His choices seemed grim, unless there were indeed untold vaults of riches to be won on the dead planet. He could have freed himself from Grotto, but then he and his family would all have been living on Pier 16 without hope of ever leaving.
Pier 16 was on the fringe of Grotto space, and as Sura had discovered, there was a deep prejudice in Grotto space towards expatriated former citizens, and they’d labor in the lowest wage positions as a result.
Samuel let himself fantasize about what it might be like to actually succeed in this mission, to walk away with wages, easy salvage, and a completion bonus. There were agri-worlds where Sura and he could grow food for a living if they owned land, or they could even go to one of the wild planets on the frontier and simply live apart from corporate civilization, the same way the FOLKEN did.
Samuel knew that his choice was clear, and that he had to provide for his family, regardless of the loneliness he might feel or the likely death he faced. One way or the other his family was taken care of, so long as he signed the dotted line and took up his rifle. If he died, Sura would endure it, but in time she would thrive, as he knew and loved that no amount of hardship could break her. She would find another partner, as he knew she had during some of his longer deployments, and she would raise a son to be proud of.
The klaxon bells awoke Samuel from a troubled sleep and he realized he must have fallen asleep while still tinkering with his data pad. It did not do to dwell on the maybes and the what-ifs, Sura would have told him, and he stood to wash his face and prepare for the coming mission.
“This is the job,” said Samuel several times as he looked at himself in the mirror, imagining how Mag would have sounded if she’d been barking in his ear, “Get it done, marine.”
11. THE LEGION
Fifteen minutes later Samuel Hyst presented himself to the sentry who stood guard outside the observatory, and was allowed inside.
“Boss Hyst, welcome to the observatory, I’m Technical Officer Ingrid, let me show you how the system works,” said the middle aged woman in a crisp warden’s uniform as she approached him with an outstretched hand, which Samuel shook. “As you can see, the Grotto Correctional Department has performed some modifications to the traditional observatory stations on board this Reaper tug.”
Ingrid led Samuel around the room and he saw that there were a large bank of monitors lighting up the area, and at each one of them sat a Reaper squad leader. Boss Ulanti and Boss Marsters both noticed him and gave him respectful nods. Even those small recognitions of his promotion by Boss Aiken before the man assumed his Command meant the world to Samuel, to be accorded respect by such hardened veterans was more of an achievement to him than he realized. He fleetingly thought of Mag and missed his old squad leader, then focused his mind on the task at hand.
“There are approximately eight hundred and seventy-five Reapers on this mission, and as you can see, we have arranged for there to be an interface available for each of the one hundred and seventy five squad leaders, such as yourself.” Ingrid led Samuel down the long rows of the sizeable observatory compartment while pointing to the many workstations occupied by other marine squad leaders. “Each squad leader will be linked up to a Line Warden on the ground who commands twenty nine legionnaires. You will be able to observe the camera feeds and data-uplinks for all of the legionnaires, in addition to open lines of communication with the Line Warden themselves.
Naturally, your role during the initial phase of the operation will be to act in an advisory capacity to identify salvage hot spots and guide against unnecessary collateral damage should armed resistance be encountered.”
Samuel nodded and remained silently attentive as Ingrid escorted him to an empty workstation, flanked by two Reaper squad leaders he did not recognize.
“Boss Hyst, welcome to your designated station, we will be conducting an interface orientation and final mission briefing in ten standard minutes.” Ingrid presented a faux smile that Samuel was sure she’d practiced many times in order to perfect. “In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.”
Samuel took his seat and looked around the room to see that most of the Reaper squad leaders had filed into the observatory shortly after his arrival, and the seats were starting to fill up in short order. The scale of the mission was like nothing he had experienced in his time as a marine, and he found himself begrudgingly impressed with the genius of it all.
Though many corporations ruled their populations with various financial schemes and economic coercion, none were as cunningly brutal as Grotto Corporation. Human beings were just as much a natural resource to be exploited as any ore, mineral, or gas in the vastness of space.
The nightmare that crouched just beyond the debt based social order of Grotto Corporation was the abyss into which a person would disappear if they were unable to make at least their minimum payments. After several warnings for missed payments or payments below the minimum required amount, citizens would be picked up by bondsmen and hauled to the local detention centers for processing and sentencing.
Bondsmen were a special breed of law enforcement officer that specifically sought out those unfortunate citizens who could not, or in some occasions refused, to pay their debts to Grotto. Bondsmen were dangerous, and would not hesitate to kick down doors and assault people in public to get their quarry. Once detained, the debtor would be given a sentence, one that took into account the total debt owed, payment history, and workforce assessment.
The ugly truth was that although most sentences were only a few weeks or months, all of the court proceedings, bondsman recovery fees, and cost of imprisonment were added to the citizen’s Grotto debt. As a result, a significant portion of first time offenders found themselves back in detention within just a few months of being released. Most workforce assessments provided only subsistence wages anyway. Usually the only people who were able to “rehabilitate” were those who lucked into promotions at work or experienced a death in the family, either of a dependent whose absence relieved the citizen of that financial burden or a relative who had arranged for a death benefit.
Second time offenders were automatically detained and rotated into the Grotto penal system, which was comprised of several moons that orbited a number of planets in Grotto space. Massive prison complexes had been built into those moons, and served not only as detention facilities, but as forced labor camps. Some of the prison moons doubled as factories or refineries, and low security convicts would be able to work down their debts and sentence by working the machines.
Others were vast salvage yards where much of the materials procured by Reaper fleets ended up for final processing. Rumor had it that Penal Legions would be founded from these populations when Grotto needed a cheap military option for one purpose or another. The convicts would volunteer for duty in much the same way the Reapers did, with the hopes of the additional earnings helping pay down their debts and move them towards freedom.
Samuel had never seen a legionnaire, and stories of their military exploits were simple rumor and tall tales told in school. If his time in the Grotto military had been any indication of how non-elite military assets were treated, it made a great deal of sense why he’d never even heard of a retired legionnaire.
Warden Ingrid cleared her throat as she approached the podium, and the lights in the observatory dimmed somewhat to enhance the luminosity of the speaker. She began to brief the assembled Reapers on the technical specifications of the workstations, instructing them on how to toggle between each of the legionnaire’s shoulder cameras, in addition to maintaining communication and data-uplinks with the Line Wardens.