Author's Note:
I had several distractions, but I found the time and the will to write this new chapter.
P.S. This story has reached 105 follows: a remarkable milestone for a niche story.
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Story Arc: First Contact with a Rogue Trader Militant
Episode 3: Dinner with the Lord Trader
Chapter 9: Clothes and... Maids?
Plot: Seven hours have passed since the humans boarded the Moonbreaker. Each of them has received the bare necessities to feel comfortable, but dinner time is approaching and some humans must get ready for the event.
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POV Narrator
Within seven hours, a structure resembling a cross between a campsite and a low-security prison camp appeared at the center of the geodesic dome. In the middle of the area, five rows of twenty tents are lined up, except for the last row, which has only nineteen.
Shortly before, a man lost control due to fear and began threatening the guards. He was immediately knocked out with a swift move and taken to isolation; no one knows what is happening to him now.
A hundred meters from the tents stands an igloo-like structure, erected in less than five minutes by shaping liquid metal. Parked behind this mirrored silver igloo is a massive wheelless truck, which shuttles in and out of the geodesic dome to transport the materials needed to manage the humans.
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The ninety-nine remaining humans in the dome, officially registered under the label of "neutral aliens," receive decent and fair treatment from the Moonbreaker soldiers. The military personnel of the White Pegasus Brigade follow the protocol to the letter: they ask people to line up in five rows and enter the liquid metal building five at a time.
Inside, the humans undergo the registration procedure by answering a series of standard questions: first and last name, sex, gender, species, rank, allergies, and dietary restrictions. Immediately after, a small drone buzzes above them for a full scan, while the soldiers hand each person an identification bracelet and a basic subsistence kit. The final stop is the changing room, where the prisoners change and store their personal belongings in metal boxes marked with their name and rank; these items will be returned upon leaving the Moonbreaker.
The basic subsistence kit contains:
- A camping tent (150 cm wide, 250 cm long, and 250 cm high), a sleeping bag, an eye mask, and earplugs.
- A prisoner jumpsuit with their name and rank sewn on the chest and a number on the back, pajamas, pants, long- and short-sleeved t-shirts, seven pairs of boxers, and seven pairs of socks, plus a pair of camping boots.
- A backpack including six liters of drinking water, three plastic jars (one with fruit, one with legumes, and one with two and a half kilos of dried meat), a personal hygiene kit, two towels, a blank notebook with pens, a physical book by an alien author translated into english, a booklet on the rights of intelligent species, and finally, two peculiar objects that turn out to be sex toys designed to simulate pleasure for both sexes.
Outside, in addition to the humans' tents, the soldiers have set up a large marquee that serves as headquarters for the guards. Alongside it, two rows of ten prefabricated blocks have been placed: half contain the toilets and the other half the showers. The common area is completed by five tables and ten metal benches.
In short, apart from a few minor oddities, the humans are treated remarkably well.
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Currently, sitting around one of the five metal tables provided by the aliens, are Aiden Shepard, Captain Anderson, Isaac, Malloy, and Alara. Seated with them are the four corvette captains: Ed Mercer, Kelly Grayson, Malcolm Reynolds, and John Carter.
"So far, the situation is better than we could have thought," Ed said, swallowing a bite of dried meat.
"I have to agree with you, Ed. We have received rather civilized treatment, even if some things are a bit bizarre," said Kelly, Ed's ex-wife, leaning her elbows on the table and looking at the others.
"A plastic penis and a plastic vagina for each of us," Malloy commented, crossing his arms behind his head and finding the whole situation hilarious.
"Not even an Asari prison has treatment like this," Malcolm Reynolds said, speaking from personal experience with a half-smile plastered on his face.
"On a certain level, I can understand. They offer an individual the chance to satisfy certain needs and externalize stress," Isaac reflected on the more scientific side of this topic, maintaining a rigid posture on the bench.
"Sexy aliens do sexy things," Malloy declared, having his own unique way of reasoning.
"A very simple way of saying that they have cultural values very different from ours," Isaac said, using higher and more diplomatic words to correct his companion.
"We should focus on serious matters," Aiden Shepard declared with a cold stare, which was scarier than the Halloween-themed aliens. His firm tone immediately froze the cheerful atmosphere.
"Isaac, have you found out anything?" Captain Anderson asked, turning toward the genius of the group, who had spent the last few hours asking questions to the friendlier guards, like Julie, and reading the book they had received.
"I browsed through the booklet on the rights of neutral and friendly alien species. Their system is certainly much more dignified than ours," Isaac said, speaking truthfully. Comparing this prison camp on the Moonbreaker with a standard American prison, it was immediately clear that they were practically on vacation.
"Do we have any vague idea of how they treat hostile aliens?" John Carter asked, clenching his fists on the table. He wanted to know what Earth would have to face if humanity were to turn from a neutral alien species into a hostile one.
"I would prefer to never know," Malloy declared without hesitation, shaking his head. He really never wanted to see the bad side of the Moonbreaker aliens.
"I agree with Malloy. Angering a state composed of so many races and with such technology would be an unparalleled disaster for humanity and perhaps for the rest of the Citadel Council races," Alara said. She was not a genius like her sister and her parents, but she knew how to do a very simple equation: the largest ship to ever exist plus humans classified as hostile equals planet Earth exploded.
"Let's focus on our situation and not on hypothetical matters," Aiden Shepard said, keeping the entire group in line. A necessary intervention, given that some of them were quite the chatterboxes.
"Isaac, have you learned anything that could help us pass our stay here better?" Ed asked, having had to choose his words with a bit more precision. After all, the genius he was speaking to did not understand figurative expressions and idioms.
"If twenty-two well-behaved people request it, we can receive the equivalent of a soccer ball and holographic uniforms. On weekends, if there have been no incidents, sports matches can be organized," Isaac replied, speaking of one of the activities useful for making the stay easier.
"This place isn't a prison camp, it's just a summer camp, only stricter and for adults," Malloy declared, pulling his drinking water and food jars out of his backpack.
"Anything else? Perhaps more useful for saving our skins or not losing our minds?" Kelly asked, making the same mistake as her ex-husband in framing the question.
"Each of us, regardless of behavior, has the right to receive psychological counseling, medical treatment in case of injuries, and medication in case of illness, including mental illness," Isaac said with a voice that betrayed a slight touch of admiration.
"What kind of economy or government do these aliens from the Azure Galaxy have to be able to build such a ship and have such a healthcare system for prisoners? I know people who have died in prison from a poorly treated infection or been killed in the yard by a maniac who hadn't received the right dosage of medicine," Malcolm Reynolds said, running a hand through his hair, visibly struck by that contrast.
"Can you tell us if we are allowed to have intimate dates with each other or do we have to keep our hands to ourselves and our clothes on?" Malloy asked, mostly out of curiosity. These sexy aliens seemed to have a very low, or at least strange, sense of modesty.
"Women can invite men into their tents. The partner who becomes pregnant—apparently there are intelligent alien species where the male is the one who gets pregnant—receives high-level medical assistance and preferential treatment, and in the final months, a mandatory transfer to the medical wing. And if the child is born on the ship, they will receive their citizenship," Isaac said in an almost clinical voice.
"Excellent news for anyone in a relationship with a crew member, but let's hope we don't have to find out what happens after childbirth," Alara said, adjusting her prisoner jumpsuit. She had absolutely no desire to get stuck in there for nine months or even longer.
"If you are interested in more information of this nature, married couples or blood relatives have the right to request to share a tent. It seems they hold the bonds of marriage and brotherhood or sisterhood in high regard," Isaac commented, finding it interesting, especially since he was an only child.
"At this point, it wouldn't surprise me if they gave us permission to organize orgies," Malloy commented, letting his mouth speak before his brain. Out of everyone, he was clearly the one most at ease in this situation.
"Actually, during their equivalent of Valentine's Day or on birthdays, couples—or groups if they are polyamorous—can request a... Love Room," Isaac said, forcing himself to maintain a professional tone.
"And here I thought the Asari were sex maniacs," Malcolm Reynolds said with an amused expression, shaking his head.
"My birthday is coming up and I gave them my date of birth, should I worry about anything?" Kelly asked to be safe, looking at Isaac.
"In addition to requesting a Love Room, you have the right to receive a cake, a certain sum of money to obtain a gift, and a dinner according to your personal tastes," Isaac explained, listing the rights provided by U.S.K.Y./Commorragh law.
"Isaac, it's impossible for a prisoner to be treated this well," Aiden Shepard said, crossing his arms over his chest with a skeptical voice regarding the matter.
"Actually, rather than just a right, it is a sort of law. The First King of the aliens who built the Moonbreaker made it a right for all his citizens to receive a gift, a cake, and a meal on their birthday," Isaac said, almost not believing the information he had received himself.
"Why don't we have a law like that on Earth? I doubt this law allows for much, but a hundred or three hundred credits to take a short trip to a shop and a fast-food place would be welcome," Malloy said with a visibly jealous expression.
"Isaac, are we prisoners of war or do they see us differently? Because from how they treat us, I'm starting to have doubts," Captain Anderson said, rubbing his chin with his fingers. He was beginning to wonder just how "alien" these beings from the Azure Galaxy really were, as they seemed to think about things in a way so distant from their own.
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"According to their point of view, there is a major difference between containing a neutral alien species, prisoners of war, criminals, and terrorists or traitors," Isaac said, making things clear to show that they belonged to an entirely separate category.
"What does that mean?" Ed asked, leaning forward to get a clearer answer.
"It means that to the aliens we aren't prisoners of war, we are a massive nuisance with huge socio-economic consequences, which is why they treat us so well. If we were real prisoners of war, we would be locked in cells within four walls," Aiden Shepard said, anticipating Isaac and showing that he understood the point perfectly.
"Our status as neutral aliens grants us a sort of protection, but we should still behave well and avoid causing trouble," Isaac said, wanting to convey that cooperation was their best chance. He remained motionless, staring at the table with the fixed gaze typical of his analytical nature.
"What would happen if more hotheads showed up?" Malcolm Reynolds asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning his back against the bench's backrest, wanting to get an idea of this place's punishments.
"If we commit infractions, our basic rights will be maintained. Food, hygiene, and healthcare are untouchable; everything else will be suspended based on the infraction committed: periods of isolation, unpaid labor, or transfer to maximum security facilities. But if we commit crimes such as murder, aggravated assault, rape, or harassment, one can receive at least ten lashes and at most decapitation," Isaac said, in a serious, tense voice that stripped any trace of lightness from the conversation.
"In short, if you cooperate you get Norwegian-style treatment, if you play bad you get American-style treatment," Malloy said, instinctively putting a hand on his neck, as if to protect it from an invisible blade.
"Malloy, your comparison is simplistic, but correct," Isaac said, nodding his head formally.
"If I remember correctly, Julie said something similar: that good must be repaid with good and evil with evil," Alara commented, nervously fidgeting with her fingers on the metal table surface.
"A kindergarten notion taken to an extreme level," Captain Anderson commented, shaking his head slightly. He could not help but consider these Azure Galaxy aliens and their radical logic quite strange.
"Why couldn't we meet just plain ugly, bad aliens, only a little bit more advanced than us to fight?" Malcolm commented with a sarcastic voice, letting out a bitter sigh.
"I prefer the current situation. Sexy female aliens who are light-years ahead of us, but who know how to treat people well," Malloy said, very honest about how he felt, spreading his arms with a relaxed smile.
"I don't know if your simplicity is a good or a bad thing to have," John Carter commented, raising an eyebrow as he wondered, not without a hint of bewilderment, how Malloy had managed to get enlisted.
"Malloy knows his stuff," Captain Anderson commented, rubbing his temple to chase away an impending headache.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Aiden Shepard and John Carter grew tense; their bodies snapped into high alert, and their postures turned as rigid as violin strings. Their eyes began to scan the camp's perimeter rapidly: military instinct suggested to both of them that something bad could happen at any moment.
Lieutenant Colonel Diana Nearl was stepping out, accompanied by...
"Is that a seven-foot maid?" Malloy asked with a surprised look, straining his neck and pointing at one of the people accompanying the Head of the White Pegasus Brigade.
The pilot of the SSV Tokyo was not joking: the woman with horse ears and a horse tail was not accompanied by guards in black and white uniforms or armor. Instead, Diana Nearl was escorted by seven women dressed in seven high-quality, customized maid uniforms, complete with tactical weapon mounts. All the maids had white hair, red eyes, snow-white skin, and a refined beauty, as if they were porcelain dolls. The seven maids looked like sisters, but at the same time, they belonged to different races: two of them were human-sized elves, another was a remarkably tall elf standing at 215 centimeters, one was a catgirl, another a foxgirl, then a wolfgirl, and finally a bunnygirl.
"Put that hand down," Aiden Shepard said, firmly grabbing Malloy's wrist and pushing it down.
"A Maid SWAT team is coming our way. I don't know what religion they practice, but I'm converting," Malloy said in a joking tone of voice.
"You, Malloy, do not say a single word. That is a direct order," Captain Anderson said, straightening his back on the bench, certain that something important was about to happen.
Soon, the bizarre group of women arrived at Team Shepard's table.
"Lieutenant Colonel Nearl, a pleasure to see you," Captain Anderson greeted, snapping to his feet and treating the situation like an official visit.
"Captain Anderson, allow me to introduce Alix-074, the Head Maid of the maid corps' Red Carpet division," Diana Nearl said, making the introductions with a wave of her hand.
"A maid corps? This place literally has an army of maids?" Malloy asked, unable to keep his mouth shut when he heard something stimulating.
Alara and Aiden Shepard did not hesitate to stomp on his foot under the table, making him flinch.
'Do these humans have a strange way of greeting each other?' Diana Nearl thought, falling into a misunderstanding; though, in her defense, she had met aliens who greeted each other by slamming their foreheads together.
"You are right... Malloy. The Moonbreaker houses an elite Corps of 50,000 Maids to look after the well-being of Lord Bahamut, his family, and very rare guests," Alix-074 said in a calm, formal voice.
"Of course, approaching Lord Bahamut and serving him in person is a privilege that only a few manage to earn. Only the elite of the elite of the elite of the maids can join us; in fact, most enter the corps by birthright. Anyone who manages to join without being the daughter of a maid is worthy of the utmost respect," said the seven-foot maid, clearly praising herself while smoothing the folds of her apron.
"The first line of defense against dirt, clutter, paparazzi, and fanatics," the Wolfgirl Maid said, her tail wagging lazily.
"And the last line of defense if the Kingsglaive or the Grey Knights should ever fail in their duty," Alix concluded in a serious voice.
'These aliens are bizarre beyond our wildest imagination,' was a thought more or less shared by all the humans at the table, as they exchanged bewildered glances.
"Lord Bahamut's Maid Corps, the maid fetish, a timeless classic... he must be a man of culture," Malloy commented, paying a sincere and convinced compliment.
A tense, chilling silence suddenly fell around the humans' table.
"If you want to decapitate him, go ahead. I tried to keep him in line, but he doesn't listen," Aiden Shepard said, raising his hands and giving up on Malloy once and for all. It was clear to everyone that the inhabitants of the Moonbreaker were fanatics or idolized their leader, so a severe punishment was to be expected for hinting, in front of officers, that he was a deviant obsessed with maids.
"Why should we decapitate him? He is only speaking the truth. Although I am slightly surprised you have already learned these facts about the Lord Trader, you are good listeners," Diana Nearl said, without showing the slightest trace of anger or disgust; rather, she seemed almost impressed.
"I've been right twice in a row, the Moonbreaker air is doing me good," Malloy said, puffing out his chest with a proud voice.
'This is the sign that an unprecedented disaster will strike the Milky Way Galaxy,' Aiden Shepard thought, not knowing just how right he was being at that moment.
"Lord Bahamut has a weakness for maid uniforms, it is common knowledge, well-known throughout the USKY across several galaxies. It is an hereditary trait that has afflicted every Bahamut for countless generations," the seven-foot-tall maid said, considering this piece of news as mundane as the fact that the sky is purple and ocean water boils your flesh.
"Captain Anderson, XO Aiden Shepard, Captain Ed Mercer, Captain Kelly Grayson, Captain Malcolm Reynolds, and Captain John Carter, you are invited to dine in the presence of the Rogue Trader Militant, in the company of Lady High Scientist of Mechanicus, Amelia Blight, and Lady Justicar of Arbites, Mira Yamana," Alix-074 said, elegantly pulling white letters with engravings and a conspicuous red wax seal from her garment.
The Head Maid delivered the invitations to the six humans whose names had been called, but a seventh invitation remained in her right hand.
"We accept this honor with gratitude. Forgive my ignorance, I understand that Lord Bahamut is the Lord Rogue Trader Militant, the Supreme Leader of the Moonbreaker, but who are the Lady High Scientist and the Lady Justicar?" Malcolm Reynolds asked, shifting his usual tone and treating Alix-074 with the respect one would reserve for an Asari Matriarch.
"Lady Blight holds the highest scientific authority on the Moonbreaker; all high-level projects go through her. Lady Yamana is the highest legal authority on the Moonbreaker: if a serious crime is committed or there is a dispute between officers, she will decide the punishment or who is right and who is wrong," Diana Nearl said in a deeply respectful voice.
"They are also the secular concubines of Lord Bahamut and the mothers of his daughters, who currently hold positions as Planetary Governors or other high functions in the U.S.K.Y. hierarchy," Alix-074 added, providing an even more detailed picture of the family situation.
'An Archduke, a Mad Scientist, and a Supreme Court Judge, this will be an unforgettable dinner,' Ed thought, having never in his life attended an event with such illustrious figures.
'Is it normal for them that the Captain is married to, or whatever we want to call it with, two members of the top leadership?' Captain Anderson thought, finding the matter quite strange and suspicious, but preferring to keep these thoughts to himself.
"Five captains and one hero make six people; it is an unlucky number. Seven is a holy number," murmured the other maid with elf ears, who had remained silent until then.
Alix-074 passed the seventh invitation to her elven colleague.
"Buffoon, you are sharp enough to understand the wonder of our uniforms; you shall have the right to be the seventh member to attend the dinner," the elf maid said, extending her arm and handing the final invitation directly to Malloy.
"Thank you very much!" Malloy exclaimed with a large, childlike smile and eyes wide with joy.
At that exact moment, Alara and Isaac lost consciousness; both fainted on the spot, their heads hitting the metal surface of the table heavily, and none of those present felt like blaming them.
'These human beings from this galaxy faint constantly,' Diana Nearl thought, shaking her head slightly, now certain that she would have to call doctors to subject them to thorough examinations.
"Stand up and follow the maids, they will take care of you," Diana Nearl declared, gesturing to give the order.
"We cannot have you go into the presence of Lord Bahamut, Lady Blight, and Lady Yamana in such clothes and smelling like this," the seven-foot maid declared, in a blunt voice that left no room for argument.
"We will have to give you a bath, cut your hair, find a good perfume, clothes, accessories, jewelry, and makeup," Alix-074 said, mentally listing a complex sequence of beauty procedures and spa treatments for the seven chosen humans.
"A lot of makeup," the giant maid added, sizing them up from head to toe.
"How long will this take?" Captain Anderson asked in a visibly weary voice, not being at all psychologically prepared for such an ordeal.
"We have three hours until dinner. Normally, it would take an entire day of preparations and a week to put a shred of etiquette into your heads. But Lord Bahamut knows how to be understanding, and our colleagues are good at their job," Alix-074 said in a professional voice and a tone that brooked no reply, adjusting the cuffs of her uniform.
"Then let's go to an alien spa center to make ourselves presentable," Malloy said, spreading his arms and facing the entire situation with absolute philosophy.
"The buffoon is the most perceptive of the group; send him to Yuri: she has the gentlest touch of all of us," the long-eared maid commented, exchanging a knowing look with her companions before gesturing for the humans to stand.
To be continued...
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Author's Note:
I admit that I wrote this short chapter more out of duty to the people who follow this story; my inspiration toward science fiction has dropped lately in favor of fantasy.