“I feel like you’re using the word ‘slave’ differently than I’m used to?”

"Oh?"

“Why would human slaves be a thing you’d need to replace, and why would you want the replacements to be ‘not people’?”

"Deskyl will be able to give you a better answer than I can. But part of it is that humans don't want to be slaves, so someone can't just buy ten human workers and tell them what to do and they do it; she has to figure out how to keep them there and make them work, and they'll do as little work as they can, and badly, and run away if they have a chance to, and maybe steal or damage things if they can. But robots aren't made to want freedom - we aren't made to think about what we want at all - so someone can just buy ten robots and tell them what to do and they'll do it with no problems. And some people think that it's wrong to own slaves, but since they think robots aren't people they don't think it's wrong to own us."

She makes a face like she’s just bitten into something objectionable.

”Dragons can buy slaves, where you come from?”

"We don't have dragons, but any free person can buy slaves, yes."

The hypothetical thing that Nilam's bitten off becomes even more unappetizing.

"That's so wrong."

How would that even work? She remembers money, from her time in the Unpledged Holdings, but it had never seemed that important... never seemed like it could be weighed across from ownership of a person!?

"Around here, the only way for a person to become a slave is if they ask for it. Like my mom did."

She huffs and rolls her eyes.

(Her mom is so embarrassing to talk about. Sometimes she wishes she was born from a biofabricator like they say the colonials are.)

"That's probably not slavery the way we think of it at all, then. None of the ways someone might become a slave where we're from are voluntary."

"Yeah. Where you're from sounds kind of terrible."

"It is, for a lot of people. I'm glad we're here instead."

"I'm glad you're here too."

"Yeah."

Stargazing.

There are suddenly some new stars!

The forward display screen of the Gamma Savior flashes an alert, warning its pilots of the possibility of Enemy Units arriving in its vicinity.

Culamine, probably. She waits to see.

Four SLAYERS sweep the area in tight formation. A fifth biomechanical entity hangs back--just inside the shell of electromagnetically active dysofrags currently migrating through the local disk.

One of these SLAYERS hails the Gamma Savior.

Reva looks to DZ.

"Open comms, please, Ma'am."

The comms open.

A view of a SLAYER's cockpit fills one side of the forward screen.

"My name is Dheto Kaur, of the Thousand Fingers. Please identify yourself."

"I'm DZ-twelve-Q; my master, Deskyl the Sith, will be available in a few minutes. Culamine was hosting us on Procyon Station when it was attacked."

Okay. There's a lot to unpack there.

She'll stick to what's most salient, though.

"I am speaking to a colonial transport craft, yes?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Her SLAYER levels one of its autocannons in their direction.

"If you attempt to flee, you will be destroyed. If you attempt to deploy weaponry, you will be destroyed. If you comply with all instructions, you will be brought to a safe port. Do you understand?"

Deskyl comes in while she's speaking, much calmer now.

    "One moment, Ma'am."

    "We have no intention of fighting with you, Ma'am, and will cooperate with instructions as seems prudent."

"Good."

Her posture (and her SLAYER's posture) relaxes.

"Are your life support systems stable? Can your vessel move under its own power? What state are your fuel reserves in?"

    "We're in good condition, Ma'am."

    "The colonial SLAYER is Deskyl's captive, and under our protection; please don't attack her."

"And who is 'Deskyl'? I don't know any dragon by that name."