Captain Christen Blake was about to make history. For five thousand years earth had waited for their probes of humanity to blossom in other star systems, and now it was time. The portal was ready. She was terrified. Highest ranked in her class, bound for a command of her own if she played her cards right, but now she was leading the ground mission into unknown territory.
Lightyears away the ancient colony awaited Captain Blake. Her translator was operational. They knew very little about the humans on the other side, it was doubtful they had a similar culture anymore, they were lucky the humans still knew how to operate the machinery. They might have even triggered the portal on accident. Her blaster was on her him and ready. "Ready Captain?" She heard the admiral ask. His voice was stern and strong.
"Ready." She nodded to herself as the portal opened. She hoped he believed her. There was no room for mistakes here. Her life had led her to this moment. All of the training and sleepless nights, the studying and the tests. Sometimes she wondered if it was all worth it. Now she would truly know. If all went well, a promotion was in her future. Possibly, a command o her own.
She took the plunge. Light-years passed by in seconds, and then her foot landed on solid ground.
She was on edge as soon as she was on the other side, but realized quickly that there was no danger. Her hand was still on her blaster, but she found instead of monsters or aliens, the top of a mans head. He was bowing to her. It was a very human sign of respect. She nodded her head in response as the portal closed behind her. When the man rose she noticed a girl behind him in a uniform she barley recognized. She quickly noticed that the styling of the room and clothing was old. Even older than when the probes had been sent in the first place. Victorian, she guessed, give or take a hundred years.
"Hello. And welcome." She was shocked. That was Earth Common Communications. Had he learned that in the brief data transmissions before she arrived? When he next spoke her translator had to compensate, "Did I say that right?"
He was tall and dark haired, and obviously intelligent. He had a beige suit with simple buttons and behind him was a beautiful girl, almost perfectly so. She was wearing a maids outfit, but it seemed too small for her. She wondered if that was the point. Already Captain Blake felt a culture shock. The earth government still had sexism in the ranks despite thousands of years of fighting it. Her first impression was one of male dominance, even with his polite act of greeting her.
"I am Captain Blake." She allowed her translator to communicate the message. "And who are you?" the residual data they had gained was enough to articulate tone and direction of speech, but it would take some time before they could fully peak to one another. She probably should have greeted him more formally, but she was already on edge.
The man seemed perturbed. "Something was lost in translation..." he said bluntly, then sighed. "Ca—Captain?" He toyed with the earth word. "—Blake. I am Master Verres." He continued. "This is Isabella." He nodded to his servant girl. "I am very glad to meet you."
He said more words than her translation let on. She was given a notice that he was probably using overly formal language. Good. He did not look afraid, but she would feel better if he acted like he was. "Do you represent this colony's interests?" She asked.
He looked confused and raised an eye brow. Another translation issue? "...I have dinner prepared, if you are interested. Then we can discuss business."
She had been prepped on many early human cultures just in case she had to undergo any ritual to obtain trust with the locals. Strangely, she did not think dinner would have been one of them. She answered in the affirmative and was led to a long hardwood table in a well kept dining hall. It could have seated maybe twenty people.
The serving girl's skirt was too short. Captain Blake found herself staring when she shouldn't. The blouse was tight and low and her breasts sagged when she bent to serve their food. For a moment she looked at her own regulation suit. It was form fitting, but resistant to most known forms of attack, and hard armor protected her most vital areas and protected her modesty. No skin below her collar was showing.
"So... Captain." He said the title with perverse curiosity. Blake was unnerved by it. "Would you mind if I asked a very forward question?"
Perhaps he was also experiencing a culture shock of his own. She nodded. The unspoken sign was interpreted correctly.
"To be blunt... am I speaking to a master, or a slave?" Captain Blake blinked and re-checked her translator. She thought maybe there had been an error... no, all other alternative translations gave a similar word choice. He seemed to notice her confusion and continued, "I have been thinking of your previous question as well, and I think I have some new understanding. You wanted to know if this planet had a single master. Is that correct? I am simply one of many, and I found this device by happenstance." The serving girl had finished her duties and meekly stood by her master. "Does your planet have a single master?"
"No." She responded. She looked suspiciously at the food before her... it didn't look too alien. In fact, it resembled food from her classes. She tried it with caution, she continued, "A democracy rules our world. Economically and politically, all are treated equally. Those who rule do so in the best interests of the people, and serve their constituency. There are no masters and no slaves."
He was silent. "I am sorry, a few words were lost... perhaps I should rephrase." He thought for a moment, "The title of Captain. It is awarded to those who serve well?" he winced as if he could be making a social misstep.
"Yes." She affirmed.
"Ah, a slave then." He seemed relieved. She knew it must have been a translation error of some sort, but could not help but lower her eyelids at him. First the serving girl, now this. She was begging for a reason to liberate this entire planet if she had to. "...or perhaps, not as simple as that?" he asked, noting her brow. "I will stick to Captain."
He was silent for a few moments before encouraging her, "I have been speaking for far too long, please feel free to ask questions of your own. You must be curious."
He was very polite. She didn't like it. In situations like these she preferred when things got agressive. Men like this irritated her and she trusted force more than diplomacy. She could not very well resort to that first however. "She is a slave?" She asked, motioning to the girl.
"Yes. Though, perhaps she is a "Captain"?" He toyed around with the word. She didn't like the insinuation. "Do you like her?" He asked.
"She is very pretty." Captain Blake answered. "But my planet outlawed slavery many years ago. We find the practice immoral and degenerate."
"Hmm," The man was deep in thought. Another translator issue? "I think I may have some understanding of our issue here. Perhaps you do not realize..." he shook his head. "I will give it more thought before jumping to rude conclusions. Will you be staying the night?" the translator noted that the question was phrased as a weak invitation that could socially be refused or acknowledged.
She pressed a button on her wrist mounted terminal, "Admiral?" She asked.
"I heard. Stay. See what you can find out. We are getting readings of foreign technology of some sort. Be on your guard. Your first priority is to establish diplomatic relations, then learn everything you can. Gain their trust."
"Yes sir." She nodded unconsciously and pressed the button again.
"The word 'Sir.'" The man before her, Master Verres, toyed with the word. "Your Master?" he asked. Her fist clenched. "No. More complicated... I will try to understand. Please forgive me. Isabella." He looked to the girl. "You will treat Captain Blake as if she were a visiting master." She nodded obediently with a smile. Blake suddenly felt sick. It reminded her of the stories of the old nations in earths history. Isabella seemed almost "fulfilled" with her duty.
Perhaps she would take this opportunity to educate Isabella. Sowing the seeds of righteous rebellion was not exactly what the admiral had ordered her to do, but she could not help herself.
She was led to a third story guest room with a large window facing rolling hills and farmland as the sun set on the planet. Captain Blake had been ready for any kind of strange world or day night cycle... unfortunately, and strangely, the planet seemed very earth like. It had a twenty eight hour day night cycle and a single far off moon, hardly visible in the night sky. The slightly lower gravity was hardly noticeable, but now that she was relaxed, she did feel a bit lighter and a bit stronger than usual.
She was about to make herself at home when she realized Isabella had not left the room. She silenced all communications with her higher command and placed her terminal on the bedside table. She didn't want anyone else hearing of her attempted revolution. "Isabella?" She asked.
The girl nodded. "Mistress Blake." She responded. Her voice was soft, but not weak.
"How long have you served Verres?"
"I have been his slave my entire life." She responded.
"Have you ever wanted to leave him?" Blake asked.
"Oh no. He is a good master and treats me well. I have never thought to go to another master."
"No, I mean... no masters. Just, leave. Be free." Blake asked. She expected shock, maybe horror. But Isabella seemed more confused.
"...You mean, become a master? I have no interest." She shook her head.
"No, not... uhg." Blake shook her head. This kind of brainwashing was hard to shake. She would need more time. "I guess... look, I wont tell you to do anything you don't want okay?"
"Understood." Isabella did not look like she understood, but was polite enough to say she did. Captain Blake looked over the girl again. She was so small and thin. Her black hair was cut short into a bob. Her stance was demure and receptive. She reminded Blake of a doll. She was so perfect, almost too perfect. Blake felt a sudden animosity towards her because of it. Mixed with her failure to re-educate the girl, Blake could tell her mood was worsening. This stupid slave girl was prettier and happier than Blake was, and that just wasn't fair.
"How old are you?" Blake asked.
"Biologically twenty." She responded. Strange response. Her translator had no explanation. There must have been a cultural connotation.
"You look younger." Blake responded.
