Page 5 of Commander’s Mate

“Confirmed by two intercepted broker packets,” Tivid said. “Kyanna Guryon and her companion Sowia Garvo were taken from Plotain Pleasure Station. They are scheduled for pre-auction inspection within thirty-six standard hours. Public auction follows twelve hours after inspection unless a private bid meets the reserve price.”

“Governor’s payment?” Degatu asked.

“Enough to keep four dreadnoughts fueled for six months if we ration weapons output.”

Pyrr snorted. “If we ration weapons output, we are not doing our job.”

“He also offered supply contracts,” Tivid added. “Food, medical kits, portable shelters, translator chips, and temporary asylum for non-Farseek survivors recovered with his daughter.”

“That was not in the first offer,” I said.

“No,” Degatu replied. “It was in my counteroffer.”

I looked at him.

He met my gaze calmly. “You said no one who can be freed stays in chains. I assumed you meant for someone else to help feed them.”

A few officers gave short, grim laughs.

Good. They could still laugh.

“Security?” I asked.

Tivid enlarged the auction district. “Poor by military standards. Strong by civilian-criminal standards. Outer guards are Ursagan contract security. Inner inventory teams are Sargan-owned. The public believes this is a standard pleasure-slave sale. The owners will not expect a military strike because the auction is technically outside active war jurisdiction.”

“Technically,” Pyrr muttered.

“Their first mistake,” I said. “Second?”

“They believe we are still Consortium Defense Force,” Degatu said. “Any action inside Ursagan territory would be a treaty violation.”

“We are not Consortium Defense Force.”

“No,” Degatu said. “But the Consortium has not accepted our resignation.”

“Then they can complain after we finish.”

I turned to the full table. “We are going in for Kyanna Guryon. That is the paid mission. We are also taking every captive we can physically remove from that auction house. We do not know how many will be there. We do not know how many species, medical conditions, translators, injuries, or political complications we will bring aboard. We do know what happens if we leave them.”

No one moved.

I let the silence hold. Every officer in the room had seen Farseek. Everyone had family missing, dead, or unconfirmed. They did not need a speech about slavery.

But they needed orders.

“Ground Team One breaches the primary holding chamber. Pyrr, you command interference outside the west service corridor. Keep local security busy and loud. I will locate Kyanna. Tivid, you copy every record in their system. Buyer lists, seller lists, transfer logs, shipping routes, medical tags, species origins, and anything that mentions Farseek. If they sold one of ours through that house, I want the buyer’s name and the world he sleeps on.”

Tivid’s eyes went flat. “Understood.”

“Medical teams will prepare cargo bay overflow. Strip nonessential equipment from gymnasium two and conference rooms three through seven. Every spare blanket, every shirt, every ration block. I do not want rescued captives sitting naked on cold decking because we failed to plan.”

“They will still be uncomfortable,” Degatu said.

“They will be free.”

Pyrr leaned over the holo-map. “What if they refuse to come? Some may think we are another buyer force.”

“Then we tell them the truth as fast as possible.”