February, 2321,
Sol System, Luna, Lancelot High Security Prison
Luna was a convenient spot to put prisons. Large enough traffic for easy logistics and movement of security detail, but isolated enough that prisoners had an effectively zero chance of escaping through any conventional manner. Lancelot was typical, a GDW owned concrete bunker buried beneath a dozen feet of regolith, located at the equator of the moon far from any infrastructure, with sensors and turrets on the surface that shot any unauthorized personnel leaving or entering the area. There was a single pad that supported aerial shuttles.
"I don't like this." Ulrike remarked, her husband besides her.
"Me neither, but they pay our bills. This request is frankly easier to accept than others." Eberhard replied with a shrug as the couple walked through the corridor together. They were escorted by two guards, both wearing stripped down IVAS', but they kept their faceplates on nonetheless to hide away their humanity, denying any exploitation.
"We're getting asked to bring a criminal on board, one who killed," Ulrike growled, "Everyone else we recruited have been upstanding members of society."
Eberhard snorted. "Seriously? Beatrix alone has killed more people in the past year than some marines do in their entire career, and she's the sweet bubbly medic of the team."
"We were dealing with terrorists, insurgents, and pirates." His wife frowned.
"All of whom had lives and families mind you." Eberhard reminded her. "I'm not saying that what we did was necessarily wrong, but blood is a bad way to gauge morality by our standards."
"Fine. How about this." Ulrike reached for her datapad, suddenly reminded that all her electronics were confiscated. She looked to Eberhard, who held up a suitcase with a teasing smile. "Ugh. Anyways," She explained with her hands animatedly. "What about all the goods he smuggled and pirated? His motivations were clearly selfish at best, malicious at worst."
"There is that..." Eberhard admitted with Ulrike nodding in victory, "... but he did give up a lot of connections that could potentially reduce piracy in the long run."
"I hate you." Ulrike frowned again.
"Love you too, honey." Eberhard winked.
The couple eventually stopped in front of a transparent, ballistic resistant wall. Behind the wall was a white room lit from all directions. Pores were snuggled into the ceiling corners that could release sleeping agents. Inside was a single man in a simple, orange jumpsuit with no metal on it. His hands were bound by a metal zip tie, and an electronics device was strapped to his left arm that tracked his position and could inject paralyzing drugs into his system, if necessary.
"So..." Ulrike took the briefcase from Eberhard, pretending to read through one of the packets. "Caleb Gellar. Union Space Command, but was caught smuggling in Commonwealth space. Ten runs in six years. Four merchant marines dead under your steel. You should be rotting in here for the rest of your life." She looked up at him.
Caleb looked up from his hands as they approached, boredom had finally set in, and being confined to a small room with nothing to do did not suit him, but he put up with it, as hopefully, assuming this went well enough, it would be temporary. He scratched at a few more days of unkempt beard than he would normally keep, but realising his options were clean shaven and grizzled nomad, decided he looked better with facial hair. "I gave you the names of my suppliers, and everyone involved in the smuggling operation. Those under me, and over me. Even if i did get out of here, there is no way i have any sort of life in that line of work any longer. They find me? Dead. They see me on the street? Dead. What else do you want? And so we are clear, when i killed those men, I was just doing my job. I was a soldier, My commanding officer said Jump, I said "How High". Jumping this time was just filling a man with bullet holes. I didn't like it, but orders are orders" Caleb stretched out his legs, feeling cramped, suddenly jealous of those standing behind the glass. A sudden wave of guilt overcoming him, along with the realisation that he might not make it out of the prison, not for a long time, and honestly, he felt that was Just. Caleb looked over the people outside for the first time, and for a moment, a feeling of Deja vu overcame him, as he looked at the guard on the left side. He looked more closely at him "Do i know you from somewhere?"
"Maybe." The woman who looked to be in her forties by 24th century standards, wearing a hair of brown, shrugged. "We've arrested a lot of your kind, shot down many too, so I wouldn't remember either. Perhaps you slipped through the cracks once, somehow. Not many places to hide in one of your pirate ships after it gets vented." She commented flatly. "What she means is hello." The man of similar age wearing blonde hair chimed in. "Yes. Hello." The woman snorted.
Sol System, Luna, Lancelot High Security Prison
Luna was a convenient spot to put prisons. Large enough traffic for easy logistics and movement of security detail, but isolated enough that prisoners had an effectively zero chance of escaping through any conventional manner. Lancelot was typical, a GDW owned concrete bunker buried beneath a dozen feet of regolith, located at the equator of the moon far from any infrastructure, with sensors and turrets on the surface that shot any unauthorized personnel leaving or entering the area. There was a single pad that supported aerial shuttles.
"I don't like this." Ulrike remarked, her husband besides her.
"Me neither, but they pay our bills. This request is frankly easier to accept than others." Eberhard replied with a shrug as the couple walked through the corridor together. They were escorted by two guards, both wearing stripped down IVAS', but they kept their faceplates on nonetheless to hide away their humanity, denying any exploitation.
"We're getting asked to bring a criminal on board, one who killed," Ulrike growled, "Everyone else we recruited have been upstanding members of society."
Eberhard snorted. "Seriously? Beatrix alone has killed more people in the past year than some marines do in their entire career, and she's the sweet bubbly medic of the team."
"We were dealing with terrorists, insurgents, and pirates." His wife frowned.
"All of whom had lives and families mind you." Eberhard reminded her. "I'm not saying that what we did was necessarily wrong, but blood is a bad way to gauge morality by our standards."
"Fine. How about this." Ulrike reached for her datapad, suddenly reminded that all her electronics were confiscated. She looked to Eberhard, who held up a suitcase with a teasing smile. "Ugh. Anyways," She explained with her hands animatedly. "What about all the goods he smuggled and pirated? His motivations were clearly selfish at best, malicious at worst."
"There is that..." Eberhard admitted with Ulrike nodding in victory, "... but he did give up a lot of connections that could potentially reduce piracy in the long run."
"I hate you." Ulrike frowned again.
"Love you too, honey." Eberhard winked.
The couple eventually stopped in front of a transparent, ballistic resistant wall. Behind the wall was a white room lit from all directions. Pores were snuggled into the ceiling corners that could release sleeping agents. Inside was a single man in a simple, orange jumpsuit with no metal on it. His hands were bound by a metal zip tie, and an electronics device was strapped to his left arm that tracked his position and could inject paralyzing drugs into his system, if necessary.
"So..." Ulrike took the briefcase from Eberhard, pretending to read through one of the packets. "Caleb Gellar. Union Space Command, but was caught smuggling in Commonwealth space. Ten runs in six years. Four merchant marines dead under your steel. You should be rotting in here for the rest of your life." She looked up at him.
Caleb looked up from his hands as they approached, boredom had finally set in, and being confined to a small room with nothing to do did not suit him, but he put up with it, as hopefully, assuming this went well enough, it would be temporary. He scratched at a few more days of unkempt beard than he would normally keep, but realising his options were clean shaven and grizzled nomad, decided he looked better with facial hair. "I gave you the names of my suppliers, and everyone involved in the smuggling operation. Those under me, and over me. Even if i did get out of here, there is no way i have any sort of life in that line of work any longer. They find me? Dead. They see me on the street? Dead. What else do you want? And so we are clear, when i killed those men, I was just doing my job. I was a soldier, My commanding officer said Jump, I said "How High". Jumping this time was just filling a man with bullet holes. I didn't like it, but orders are orders" Caleb stretched out his legs, feeling cramped, suddenly jealous of those standing behind the glass. A sudden wave of guilt overcoming him, along with the realisation that he might not make it out of the prison, not for a long time, and honestly, he felt that was Just. Caleb looked over the people outside for the first time, and for a moment, a feeling of Deja vu overcame him, as he looked at the guard on the left side. He looked more closely at him "Do i know you from somewhere?"
"Maybe." The woman who looked to be in her forties by 24th century standards, wearing a hair of brown, shrugged. "We've arrested a lot of your kind, shot down many too, so I wouldn't remember either. Perhaps you slipped through the cracks once, somehow. Not many places to hide in one of your pirate ships after it gets vented." She commented flatly. "What she means is hello." The man of similar age wearing blonde hair chimed in. "Yes. Hello." The woman snorted.