They follow.

There are three rescued-persons aboard the vessel who have expressed a clear preference towards being removed from the Draco Territories.

This seems like an unexpectedly low number to Tamarai, but she tells herself not to be naive about statistics. They only have a low three-digit sample size, which means that this survey could be immensely misleading compared to one conducted on a larger subset of the local population.

The first of these three people is the colonial spy who originally radioed in the primary objective's presence on Procyon station and in so doing kicked off this whole operation. Tamarai is pretty sure Deskyl will not want to meet this person.

She considers which of the remaining two she should lead with. She asks DZ: "Would she find the words of an older person more persuasive, or a youth's?"

    "She'd like to start with the older one."

"Alright." Tamarai squeezes her way along the edge of a hallway where Gamma Recon's field mechanic is effecting repairs to some damaged piping. As they pass, she rattles off a few miscellaneous details about the ex-slave Deskyl and DZ are about to interview. "Her name is Shri Kaur, she's a fifty-decacycle-old leon, she's been in dragon captivity for thirty of those decacycles..."

They arrive at the room. Shri has got a belt wrapped around her midsection, keeping her from drifting, and is currently swiping through a series of images on a datapad. She looks up when Tamarai arrives, parting her thin lips in an unsteady smile.

(Emotion read: relieved, cautious, conflicted.)

Deskyl and DZ stop just a little short of normal conversational distance, giving her some space.

    "Hello, Ma'am. Would you mind telling us why you'd like to go to the United Colonies?"

She looks DZ in the eye.

"I'd like to see my coven again."

Family, DZ translates it as.

    "That's understandable, Ma'am. I don't know whether Deskyl will be able to arrange it, but she'll try. Did you have any complaints about the Draco territories themselves, besides that?"

"Complaints?"

Deskyl's word choice elicits a chuckle from Shri.

"It's not a restaurant or a salon. It's civilization."

    "Yes, Ma'am. One more question, if you don't mind - how did you come to be in Culamine's vassalage? Did you choose that, or was it forced on you?"

"I wasn't herded there at sword-point, if that's what you're asking."

    "Not quite. We've heard about the Unpledged Holdings, but we haven't seen them for ourselves yet; we'd like to confirm that they exist, and that they're a reasonable place to live, and that the option of living there is given to people who aren't born in the Draco Territories."

"Yeah. I spent about a dozen decacycles there."

She leans back, exhales, and lets the datapad float out of her grip.

(Thamarai moves to catch it before it can drift anyplace dangerous.)

"I didn't enjoy the Unpledged Holdings much, but I never went hungry or anything."

Deskyl nods.

    "Thank you, Ma'am."

Shri remains silent as Thamarai starts to move along to the next room, but speaks up again right before DZ returns to the gangway.

"If you can't get me back to them, please at least let my coven know I'm alright?"

They pause, and DZ goes back. "We will if we can, Ma'am. Who should the message go to?"

"Message?"

She laughs again.

"It can't just be a message. My covenmates all know better than to listen to messages from this side of the debris disk."

"All right. What should we do?"

She rattles off a series of thirteen names.

"Speak to any one of them in person. Answer any questions they have."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She rejoins the group.

It's not far to the room where the second interviewee is waiting.

"Name: Nilam Sakshi. Age: fourteen decacycles. Born in the Draco Territories."

Thamarai provides some helpful vital statistics as they reach the end of the gangway.

The girl--Nilam--has forgone securing herself to the walls, and is instead doing the null-inertial equivalent of 'pacing' by hopping back and forth from opposite sides of the enclosure. She grabs a railing and comes to a crouching halt when she sees Tamarai rounding the corner.

Deskyl hangs back, this time.

    "Hello, Ma'am. Would you mind telling us why you'd like to go to the United Colonies?"

Nilam regards DZ warily. Long, bright-blue hair floats around her face in an untidy corona.

"For freedom. And stuff."

(Emotion Read: uncertain, obstinate, moderately embarrassed that she did not manage to say something more eloquently just now.)

"What kind of stuff?"

She frowns, chews her lip and shakes her head.

"I'm tired of the dragons always telling us what to do. I want to make my own choices."

"That's understandable. Can you tell me how Culamine's vassalage is different from what you were expecting when you chose it?"