“To be peaceful, one must first accept that you must be ready and willing to commit great violence. If you are incapable or averse, you prove only one thing about yourself. You are harmless, not peaceful.”

Dominus Valerius Artifex Primus

12 Mars, Annum 1833 EIA

Dominus Valerius Artifex, Eternal Emperor

Antarasel Station, Antarasel System

“Captain Valerius receives this ‘gift’ in the spirit in which it was presented,” said Titus graciously, with no trace of contempt lurking in his voice. “I’m sure dinner with the Vice Chancellor would be an excellent start to future interactions.”

Artifex, for his part, picked up the pale blue cloak and held it out to the girl. The girl did not move, her eyes watching him fearfully.

“I’ll be sure to let the Vice Chancellor know to expect you,” said Oliver, now watching Artifex.

“We are rather new to the station,” said Titus with sorrow in his voice. “Regretfully, we are unfamiliar with the various players, as it were. Could you remind me what the Vice Chancellor’s portfolio is?”

When he realized that the girl wouldn’t, or couldn’t, cover herself with the cloak, Artifex opened the cloak and rested it around her shoulders. Her arms stayed straight down her side, so he fastened the magnetic clasp at the neck himself, making the young woman decent once again.

“She’ll only do what you order her to do,” said Oliver with a frown. “Except for talk. She was too argumentative, so the vocal chord restrictions are permanent. I’m afraid we received her that way. Is there a problem?”

“Oh, no, none at all,” said Artifex, schooling his face to be devoid of emotion. “I’m afraid my culture is a bit… prudish about public nudity. It’s… uncomfortable to discuss business like this.”

“Ah, I understand,” said Oliver with a cruel grin. “Business in the streets, fun time in the sheets.”

“Ahem,” said Titus. “The Vice Chancellor’s portfolio?”

“Right. Officially, the Vice Chancellor manages the Public Works. Unofficially…” Oliver gave him a meaningful look. “Let’s just say that the officeholder for the Chancellor’s office changes every two years. The other vice chancellors serve no more than six.”

“And Mr. Tutna? How long has he held his office?” asked Titus.

“Vice Chancellor Tutna has generously served this station in his current capacity for thirty-two years,” said Oliver. “So we will see you at 19:00 station time?”

“Of course,” said Titus.

“Come this way, girl. Titus, please find the necessities for her, and meet us in the medical bay,” said Artifex.

“UN-UNNN!” came a muffled cry from the girl. She was walking after him, her feet betraying her even as she appeared to be fighting with every grain of her being to avoid going with him. Tears leaked from her eyes as she looked around wildly in sheer panic.

Artifex turned back in confusion. The young woman looked to be nearing a mental breakdown, she was so scared.

“Stop, stop, it’s okay,” he said to her soothingly. “I’m not going to hurt you. We aren’t slavers, we’re going to help you. I can help you, free you, and fix it so you can talk again. You do want to talk again, right?”

The girl froze the moment he started talking, and slowly his voice broke through her panic. Artifex kept talking gently, until a sense of calm allowed her to step back from the mental ledge she’d been teetering on. He had no idea what terrible fears were in her head, but she did not appear to be someone bred into slavery. She had probably been captured or sold into it, with all of the trauma that involved.

Finally, he asked, “Are you ready?”

She gave a hesitant nod.

“I hereby order that you have full control of your own body, without requiring any commands from myself or my companion. Anything we ask you to do should be considered a request only, not an order. Do you understand?”

Again, he got a nod from her.

“If you’re ready, can you follow me to my ship? I have a medical bay where we can look at breaking you free of this… compulsion collar,” said Artifex. He frowned at the very thought, for the collar had demonstrated a deeper and more nuanced command and control capability than even the most advanced slave collars from his own day.

Artifex began walking once more down the hallway, past all the empty offices and workspaces on the way back to the large industrial bay. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that she was following him, her eyes downcast but casting furtive looks his direction.

The girl stared at the warcraft in the industrial bay, for it was very much a throwback from anything she would have seen before. Artifex had seen the bulky, over-built ships that were common to this part of space when he docked. The sleek, integrated lines and its glowing-blue manifold engine made it stand out. Fortunately enough for him, the universe was full of strange things, and spacers were notorious cynics.

The ramp extended as Artifex approached, and he boarded the ship. He turned back to see the girl standing at the bottom, trembling. He walked back down.

“You are afraid of the ship?”

The girl hesitated, then gave a quick nod.

“Afraid you’ll be carted off somewhere again without your permission?”

Again, she nodded, then she held her hand up and let it waver back and forth in a ‘so so’ motion.

“Yes, but there is more to it?” guessed Artifex. “Hmm, worried it’ll be worse than kidnapping?”

The girl cringed, as if her revealing her fears would make them come true. Artifex frowned at the cringing, but schooled his expression once again. What could be worse than slavery? Oh, he thought to himself.

“I know you have no reason to trust me,” said Artifex. “You’ve had some traumatic experiences, and were given to me like chattel. But if you can summon a bit of courage, I promise to help free you. Will you let me help you?”

The girl lifted her trembling chin and looked him in the eye, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She took a step forward, onto the ramp. Artifex followed her, then guided her to the medical bay. They walked past the exam table and cabinets crammed with supplies, and into the pod room. Artifex gestured to the bathroom door, then held out the key to the locks on her bikini.

“Through there is a bathroom. Please take your time, and if you would like, shower and remove all the chains and such that you can remove. Come back out in a towel, and we can put you in the medical pod,” said Artifex.

The girl gestured sharply, making a motion with her hand that Artifex didn’t understand for a moment. Then it clicked. “Ah! Stylus and vellum! Yes, I’ll get some.”

Artifex ducked out of the room to get her request, and when he returned, she practically snatched it out of his hands.

“Are those Imperium Medical Pods?” wrote the girl, underlining ‘medical pods’ in emphasis.

“It is,” confirmed Artifex.

“Those are worth a fortune! Do you know how to make it work?”

“I do, indeed,” said Artifex with a twinkle.

This time the girl took longer to write, then averted her eyes when she showed it to him. “Can it undo a biosculpt?”

“They sculpted you? Where?” asked Artifex.

The girl pointed at her face, and swirled her finger in a motion to encompass her chest.

“I’ll do what I can.”

“They reshaped her face and breasts,” Artifex said without looking up from the pod screen. He could hear Titus setting some things down on the counter before he walked into the small pod room, where Artifex was looking at the girl’s medical diagnoses. She was frozen in stasis as he worked, sealed into the pod and safe. Every now and then, he sipped at a smoothie-like protein drink laced with ventricite crystals. It tasted metallic and nasty, but it was the easiest way to get the ventricite into his system that he would need for his own repairs.

“Someone invested a lot of time and money into her,” he observed.

“A natural virgin is my guess. For some reason, that is ever a prize,” sighed Artifex. “Otherwise, why the show with the locked chastity belt?”

“How is her health, otherwise?” asked Titus.

“These new compulsion collars are nasty. They thread into the nervous system and up into the brain. They aren’t ever meant to be removed, at least not without permanently crippling the wearer.”

“It’s fortunate you’re work with Cores required so much work with the nervous system,” said Titus. “You can unwind the damage?”

“Cores work symbiotically with the nervous system, while this runs parallel and often overlaps it. But yes, I can fix it. I’ve already started the repairs to her face to restore her original looks based off her DNA. The breasts… I can restore to a modest size. I actually have no gauge for what they should have been, for women’s breasts change constantly throughout their lives, depending on age, children, weight, and so on. If I’m off the mark, we can try again later,” said Artifex clinically.

“Poor child,” said Titus sympathetically. “I assume you want me to find her something useful to do?”

“That would be for the best,” said Artifex. “She’ll be in the pod for days, at a minimum. I’m going to have to manually sequence a lot of the repairs, and allow the pod to do its work. This will use up most of what’s left of our biologics. Have we found a new source yet?”

“There is not much of a medical culture on this station,” said Titus. “I’m reaching out to the medical suppliers, but we may only get a few basic stocks here. I’m hopeful the planet has better options.”

“Very well. I’m going to get ready for my meeting. I assume I have a few Templars waiting to escort me?”

“Indeed, Imperator,” said Titus. “And I have a new staff to start training.”