Mendez came to a stop at the far end of the conveyor line, standing next to the old foreman, Marcus. “What are they sorting?”
“They’re pickin’ out pieces with the highest concentrations of precious metals. You know, gold, silver-hell, there’s even diamonds in these rings. Theory is there used to be two stars in this system, but the first one went super-nova eons ago. Most of the ring is composed of a massive planet that was blown off of its orbit when the first star blew up, and the planet drifted to close to the gas giant and got pulled apart.”
“Don’t you have machines that can do the sorting?”
“Sure. But machines cost money. And machines breakdown. Workers are cheaper and more versatile.” He smiled, eyeing an attractive, although somewhat disheveled, young female worker on the sorting line.
Just then, one of the workers on the sorting line, a middle-aged man, leaned over on both hands on the edge of the conveyor. He was obviously exhausted, and was simply trying to rest for a moment. Nevertheless, his unauthorized respite quickly earned him the foreman’s wrath.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Marcus bellowed as he stormed off toward the exhausted worker. “Did you hear anyone call for a break?”
“Hey!” Mendez interrupted, grabbing the foreman’s arm to slow his progress. “Ease up! Can’t you see he’s just tired?”
“I don’t give a damn if he’s tired! He’s paid to work, not rest!”
“I said ease up!” Mendez insisted. This time, his tone made clear that it wasn’t a suggestion.
The foreman turned to confront the ensign, bound and determined not to let anyone tell him how to run his crew. The tired worker did not want to be the cause of the dispute, knowing that even if he avoided punishment now, it would surely come later.
“It’s okay,” the worker assured Mendez. “I’m okay. I can work.” The man straightened back up and started working again. “See, I’m working. I’m sorry, sir.”
Marcus turned back to Mendez, staring him cold in the eyes.
“You got something to say?” Mendez asked in a challenging tone.
The foreman looked the young ensign over, taking special notice of both his close-quarters weapon and his sidearm. The look of confidence in the ensign’s eyes told the foreman all he needed to know. This was not a man to be underestimated. With nothing more than a grunt, the foreman returned to his monitoring position at the end of the conveyor line.
— 5 -
“It smells wonderful,” Jalea insisted politely.
Tug’s wife had brought the food in from the kitchen without so much as a single utterance. Although she had remained politely quiet thus far, it was obvious by the tension between her and Tug that she did not appreciate nor approve of the unexpected dinner guests.
“Ranni is an excellent cook. I apologize if there is not much variety, as we have not yet purchased our stock for the darkness.”
“I’m sure it will be more than enough,” Jalea told him as she passed the first dish of fried molo around the table.
“It’s a very nice place you have here, Tug,” Jessica stated, hoping to break the ice. She knew this dinner was the perfect opportunity to collect more intelligence, even if it meant having to force down more molo. “You’ve done quite well for yourself.”
“We’ve managed, perhaps better than some,” he admitted, a bit of pride reflecting in his voice. “It’s not a bad life. Hard work, yes, but not as hard as those working the rings.”
“A lot of people on Haven work the rings?”
“On Haven, there are two career paths,” Tug explained. “You either work the rings, or you provide for those that work the rings. That is the sole reason this world was reformed. People come from all over the sector to work the rings of Haven.”
“Why is that?” Nathan asked. “I mean, if it’s such hard work that is.”
“It depends. There are basically two kinds working the rings. Those that came here on their own, and those that had no choice in the matter.”
“What do you mean had no choice?” Nathan inquired.
“A man can earn a lot of money in a short time working the rings. Those that do-and survive-usually depart with enough wealth to start over someplace nicer. Maybe even start their own business on a more prosperous world. But sadly, most have come to pay off debts.”
“What? Like contract workers?” Nathan asked.
“Something like that. When someone is unable to pay their debts, they offer themselves up as indentured workers. Their creditor can then sell them to teams here on Haven, as well as several other worlds. These workers then have to complete their contract.”
“Sounds more like indentured slaves to me,” Jessica commented.
“There are many who would also consider that term to be accurate,” Tug agreed. “It may seem barbaric, but it is a system that has been in place for centuries. Unfortunately, it also has made Haven into a popular place for criminals, thugs, and other nefarious types.”
“I find it curious that the Takarans don’t venture out here,” Jessica said, hoping to take the conversation in a direction that would yield more useful information.
“Actually, it’s pronounced Ta’Akar. It’s the proper name of the family that has ruled that part of space for nearly a millennia. They do not bother this system because to do so would bring resistance from many of their neighboring systems. You see, many depend on the resources of these rings. Not all are blessed with such accessible abundance. And many of those that were so blessed, have long since depleted them. The Ta’Akar systems do not need the resources of Haven, but they find it best not to anger those that do. However, many believe the Ta’Akar do have spies on Haven, although this has never been proven.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about the Ta’Akar,” Jessica commented, the slightest hint of suspicion in her tone.
“No more than most,” Tug assured her.
“So, were you born here?” Jessica asked.
“No. I came here much by accident.”
“How so?”
“I was a fighter pilot in the Palee Militia. My ship was damaged in combat and I spent several weeks adrift. I was rescued by a cargo vessel that was headed for Haven. They recovered my ship, expecting a valid salvage. When they found me alive, they had little choice but to allow me passage. But they left me and my ship stranded on Haven. With no way back to Palee, I had little choice but to make Haven my home. So I sold one of the reactors from my ship in order to buy this modest farm.”
“What happened to the rest of your ship?” Vladimir asked.
“I scavenged a few systems from it, but it is mostly still intact. It is stored in one of the barns.”
“Really?” Vladimir exclaimed. “I would love to take a look at it. If you do not mind, of course.”
“Not at all.”
“And you’ve been working as a molo farmer ever since?” Jessica asked.
“For nearly twenty years.”
“How did you meet your wife?”
“I spotted her at the labor hall one day. She was on a work crew that I hired to build some greenhouses. I was smitten from the moment I saw her, so I bought out her contract.”
Jessica’s eyes widened with shock. “You mean you bought a wife?”
“No, I merely freed her from her obligations. I did not force her to stay with me. I even offered to pay for passage back to her world. But she refused to accept charity and insisted on earning the passage by working for me. Eventually, things just happened.”