39. To Heal a Soul

Ashla POV

It was always very frustrating, running a shipping company. That said, simply because we supply materials and foodstuffs doesn't mean we are weak. On the contrary. We have a 98% success rate. Morning Mist and her two escorts, Twilight Strand and Nightmare Moon, were well known as the best in the business!

Go here, pick up the cargo, deliver it there, gather more cargo... rinse and repeat.

It's not particularly exhausting, but it can be boring. For example, The Zygerians had requested 1 ton of our finest liquors, and stated they would trade roughly two hundred slaves of varying ages genders and races for it. A deal we immediately took. Yes, our goods are that expensive, as we only sell the highest quality of what we produce. I don't condone kidnapping, but any chance to reunite familial units is always jumped at. We had a list of those we should look for, given to us by 'slaves' we had rescued in the past, of those still missing from their family units. Poor things. To be stolen from their nests...

It hurts.

A feeling of ones head slipping out of the water, of coming up for air. We had arrived, coming out of hyperspace.

[Mother, we are in orbit above the planet.]

[I know, Little Mist. We must be done swiftly, and deliver our new brothers and sisters to their new homes. Have the drones accompany me. I will be taking Concordia to the surface with the goods. You may contact the planet and inform them of my arrival. Have the other shuttles on standby.]

[Yes, Mother.]

And with that, Mist's awareness shifted, taking hold of the drones and shuttles. Programming them for their tasks, planting the List of priority targets in their minds, then loading six chosen drones onto Concordia.

As this was happening, I had made my way to Concordia, my personal shuttle, and she sang through the hive link eager as always to please the one who brought her into being. We were there, me standing, and her resting on the floor of the hangar, simply enjoying each other's presence. Each other's love.

My work, taking these unfortunate souls and giving them homes, finding their friends and family... but would Prince understand? Would he understand that I am helping them as best I can without going to war? To gather them to safety, to reunite them? Or would he hate me for doing business with slavers, thinking us no better than they are, despite us not stealing others from their nests?

The fear of him hating me... It hurts my core. My soul. The Prince is the only one who can kill me. No one else can, not even myself.

I would know. I tried! I reached a low point. Put a blaster in my mouth, and woke up two days later with not even a scar. These other species... they seek immortality, but they do not understand it can be curse as much as boon. To see everyone you love grow old and die, time after time, for an eternity, while you are there, young and healthy and unchanging.

Immortality is no blessing. It is a curse. One of the highest order, and something I would never wish on my own worst enemy.

But if I am to be cursed... Why not do some good with it? My kingdoms, my nests, will endure. We have always endured. We will continue to endure, long after all others have died out. I have witnessed the birth and death of stars.

Oh... we landed. The Zygerian Queen was here to collect the goods. Miraj Scintel her name was.

"This Empress greets the Zygerian Queen." -A

"... And I, you, Vespid Empress. Do you have the goods?" -S

"... We do. We also brought a list of those for which we search. We have brought six drones, who will search for those on the list. We prefer to repair family units when possible. We have found it keeps them more loyal." A half-lie, but these creatures cannot tell when we lie. The body is kept almost frozen when not in motion, and the hive pheromones are far too subtle for even their sensitive noses to detect.

"I see. I shall have my men assist your drones with this endeavor." -S

I turn my head to stare at her for a moment. And another. "Acceptable." -A

I turn towards Concordia, and with a thought, the crates containing the goods levitate. I rest a claw on Concordia's nose, and speak.

"I will return to you, trusted friend. Wait for me."

She buzzed her delight at the attention.

I turned back to the Queen, and spoke. "Let us be off. We have work to do." She followed.

Two days and one very entertaining feast later, my drones had finished their inventory and picked out several new force sensitive specimens, around twenty, give or take. As well as near a hundred of those from the list. Around seventy others who were intact family units, and several others who were orphaned children who parental figures were killed during the raids.

They would be assigned to the orphanages in our nest sites, and put up for adoption. For loving and caring families only, and these families would be visited regularly to ensure a prosperous environment for all.

Should they harm a child... The will be taken from the abusers and returned to the orphanages. The abusers blacklisted, castrated, and forbidden to any jobs dealing with children, and branded with the mark of their crimes on their foreheads. Yes, it may seem extreme, but the small ones are the future. Something to be cherished and protected. Not... used.

Thank the Force, this has yet to occur. Over the last twenty years, only once have we had such a case of abuse. The Child is now safe with a loving family, and the perpetrator castrated and branded. No one has repeated this great crime since. The hated one still bears their mark, to this day. They will carry that mark for the rest of their life.