Ask Corporate Punishment

[Yvon]

Rampa II, Corporate Sector​

The crowded prisoner transport ship rocked as it hit atmosphere. Bodies shifted around Yvon as the standing mass of prisoner's swayed on their feet alongside them. Yvon wasn't sure which light was dimmer, the ceiling light, or the gentle red glow emitting from two rectangular lights on their cuffs. The big blocky cuffs dug into their wrist while shackles dug against their ankle. The transport was standing room only and tight at that. Yvon's eyes were dim, disassociated. It was the only way they had managed to not freak out in the tight quarters, bumping into the other prisoners. The only way not to see the germs and bugs and filth that no doubt crawled all over their skin.

ECD-588298. It was the only thing that Yvon could make out in the dim light, the serial numbered barcode tattooed onto the back of the neck of the prisoner standing in front of them. (@Zay ) A life raft. A mantra that was stuck in Yvon's head as they desperately gripped for something to not go mad from the highly claustrophobic conditions. A week. A month. A year. Maybe a day. Yvon had no idea how long they had stood inside the ship surrounded by all the others as it brought them to wherever their destination was.

The ship shook again, harding this time and Yvon lurched, almost falling forwards but instead bumping into ECD-588298. Another lurch, bigger. A thud and a shake. Silence.

Hissssssssssssstttt.

A loud sound filled the room before Yvon was blinded, ducking their eyes against the crisp orange shoulder of their jumpsuit. Light. They turned their head towards it, blinking rapidly as the light stung their eyes. So bright.

Clink.Clink.Clink.Clink.

All around them a metallic clicking sound repeated and echoed, all throughout the room. There was a sudden moment of relief as the weight around their ankles disappeared, the manacles that bound the prisoner's legs to the floor letting them free.

"FORWARD. MOVE FORWARD."

A bored voice blared exceedingly loudly in the transport and all around them other prisoners were looking around before being pushed forwards by those behind them. Bodies pushed against Yvon, forcing them forwards. Out into the light. Walking down the ramp. Bare feet in the sand. They shuddered at the sensation of gritty dirt between their toes. It made them want to puke.

Still blinking, Yvon started to get their bearing. The bright sun blazed in the sky. Gritty dirt stretched out as far as the eye could see. The prisoner glanced about, still blinking. A ramshackle shantytown of some sort built out on a wasteland with tall duracrete watchtowers surrounding it. A little ways off in the distance Yvon could see a structure of some sort. And then more dirt and sand. As far as the eye could see.

"Hello Prisoners. Welcome to Camp Lifetime." An old T2 Tactical Droid said from above them standing at an elevated podium. It's chassis was painted with the yellow and black of Czerka. "I am the Warden. There is a reason this place is named Camp Lifetime. The Warden pause for a moment. "It is because you will spend the rest of your life here." Behind the Warden a line of yellow and black B1 Battle Droids snickered at that comment.

"But do not despair. Most organics only spend a year or two here." The droid's words settled over the crowd of cuffed prisoners like a smothering weight as they looked around. Yvon looked around too, but not at their surroundings. No. They were looking for ECD-588298.

"The conditions of your indentured servitude is as such. You will labor for Czerka Corporation until you have completed your terms of service. You will labor here, on Rampa II, at Camp Lifetime until you have completed your terms of service." A hush of whispers ran through the crowd as anyone who knew the name realized where they were. "My guards will escort you to your quarters. Have a nice day."

The planet was notorious for smugglers running water to the surface, more precious than gold to the population there. Yvon looked around again at the barren landscape, looked down at the polluted soil that crunched between their toes. The sun beat down on them as the B1s started to herd the prisoners towards the shantytown. Yvon smacked their lips, parched and dry from the time spent in transport. They looked at the 'prison' around them and noticed something peculiar.

There were no walls.

 

[Crix Dolan]

ECD-588298 swayed with the rocking ship as it passed through the atmosphere. He couldn’t see outside, but he’d flown enough to know when he was out of space. A montage of the past three weeks replayed through his head punctuated by the turbulence of this shitty transport coming in for a landing.

Standing in a sterile corporate courtroom.

Being thrown into a holding cell.

Being branded property of Czerka.

Being loaded into this ship.

Hands bound, orange jumpsuit.

He felt the press of the being behind him. He looked back, but he didn’t see a person standing there, he just saw another piece of property.

He reflected on all he’d been and all he’d done and one by one let them go. He let go of the heart broken and revenge driven scoundrel who tried to live in two worlds. He let go of the smooth talking businessman broken on his own ambitions. Then he let go of the shell he’d become, until he was nothing. The only thing he couldn’t shake was the look in Kara’s eyes the last time they’d seen each other.

The ship set down. The press of bodies felt stifling as the anticipation of the unknown horror blanketed each newly minted slave of the Czerka. ECD-588298 knew what was coming. He’d spent enough time around roughnecks and criminals to know that Corporate Prison was about squeezing every tiny fraction of a credit out of their indentured servants. It wasn’t death he feared as he and the rest were ferried off the ship. It was the fact that they wouldn’t let him die that concerned him.

Light spilled into the transport. He squinted but didn’t shy away. The opened door was a relief. The air in the transport had been stale with the smell of desperation. ECD-588298 kept his head forward and his eyes down. The maglocks on his legs released and they were marched out of the transport.

There were a lot of droids, which made sense, why pay corruptible sentiants when you could produce a droid to do the same thing for free. The leader showed himself and proclaimed the obvious. It was clear the droid was repeating something they’d said to hundreds, if not thousands, of inmates.

The Warden’s script ended and the BD1’s started moving in. They held stun batons in their mechanical clutches. Smart not to give them blasters. BD1s were the most incompetent combat droid out there. The crackle of a baton followed by a scream acted as the signal it was time to start moving again.

ECD-588298 felt eyes on him, but he didn’t look around. The undulating mass of inmates began to shift and form into lines. A BD1 stepped up to him, and he looked back at it.

“Move!”
“Where?” he growled.
“Huh?”
“You haven’t told me where to go,” he stated.
“Oh, uh, there. You move right there, do it!” said the droid pointing a couple feet to it’s right.

Fury and indignation wrestled for supremacy within The Inmate, but in the end Wrath rose to the surface. It felt like ice was sliding down his spine in the blistering heat. He stepped to the side, where the droid had indicated.

The BD1 smarted off something about compliance, completely unaware of how close it had just come to a hard restart. Once the lines were formed they were marched off. Their cells were underground. The initial chill of the subterranean housing made a wave of inmates sigh with relief. ECD-588298 thought that was foolish.

Didn’t anyone realize what they were doing? An inmate in front of him began to shake. The cold would seep into their bones at night, and the heat would blister their bodies during the day. There would be no comfort. He was stopped in front of a room. A wrought iron door was opened and he was forced inside.

ECD-588298 looked at the room. It was literally a hole in the wall with a bucket in the corner. It smelled of stale piss and decay. He made his way to the wall and slid down it to the floor. The only amenity in the room was a tungsten light that buzzed and flickered like it was about to go out, but it never did.

@Arcangel

 

[Yvon]

The press of bodies and the BD1s pushing and ordering the people around them made it impossible for Yvon to find the number they were looking for. They glanced about in a daze as they were herded along with the rest, marched over the baking sands and down into a cold metal tunnel. The contrast was staggering and it sent Yvon to shivering almost immediately.

There would be no comfort here.

They shuffled along blankly as BD1s began forcing their fellow prisoners into cells. It wasn't long until Yvon was shoved into a cell as well.

They stood there for a moment as the wrought bars closed shut behind them. The flickering of a single overhead light illuminated the small square room. It's bare durasteel walls, tarnished with age, caked with the filth and desperation of those who had come before. There was no bed, or bedding, or any semblance of a human comfort in the room. Yvon looked down at the floor where they would be sleeping and shuddered at the cold touch of it at their feet. The only object in the room... a bucket for their waste.

Yvon would have hurled if there had been anything in their stomach. Instead they just clutched at themselves tighter, continuing to shiver as they moved over to a wall opposite of their fellow prisoner. The fresh orange and yellow jumpsuit told them that the man had come on the same ship.

The wall that Yvon approached seemed to be irregularly patterned. It took a moment before there came a full realization. Tiny scratch marks sprawled the wall, the whole height and width of it. The countless days spent counting as someone had awaited their final fate. The hollow cold of shock soon began to give way to a rising dread, a quiet whisper of desperation that spoke in Yvon's ear as they turned and put their back against the marred wall, sliding down it to sit with their knees held up to their chest.

"You're never getting out of here."

The whisper within crept through them quietly, the icy fear that rose to their chest as they wrapped their arms around their legs, burrowing their face into their knees as hopelessness sank into their heart. They sat there quietly as the seconds ticked away to minutes, the only semblance of a clock the fluctuations of buzzes and clicks as an unreliable narrator to the passage of time.

@Zay

 

[Crix Dolan]

ECD-588298 sat defeated against the floor. His eyes lazily followed the other being in the room. Same little one that had bumped him earlier. They were wisp thin with pure white hair. Echani. His lips dipped in an appraising frown before he looked away.

The flickering buzz of the light above grated on ECD-588298’s nerves, but he relished the annoyance. After a while he wouldn’t even notice the damn thing anymore. He was thirsty. His lips were chapped and his throat was dry, but the only thing available to consume was the dust from the ground.

No matter how he looked at his predicament he couldn’t find a way out. He was stuck. The only small consolation he could take was that Kara and the baby were safe. He started to let himself daydream of a different time and place. One where he and Kara could grow old together, annoying the living shit out of one another until he died of a heart attack mid scream. One where their kid grew up and lived a normal life, one without guns, or pain— He shut it down. He had to get out. He had to survive.

For the first time in weeks he had a goal. Get out, find Kara, raise the kid. That was it.

Crix Dolan took a deep breath. He glanced over at the little silver wisp on the other wall, and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette hiding on you, do ya?”

It wasn’t much, but it'd be a start. He’d have to go slow, but he’d get out. Luckily all he needed was time, and for the first time in his life, that was all he had.

@Arcangel