Episode 198: The Human Ranch and the Little Green Men

“I’ll give you some kids if you give us some stuff.”

That was the gist of the proposal. A subordinate had relayed the message from the representative of the stealthed station, and when Taro first heard it, he’d been so incensed he actually forgot how to use his vocal cords. He was only standing here now, meeting the man face-to-face, because he’d decided he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight unless he personally screamed his lungs out at the guy.

But then he saw him.

“............Well, that’s... certainly something,” Taro muttered, scratching his chin as he stared at the remarkably unremarkable old man.

The urge to scream had evaporated, replaced by a massive, throbbing wave of bewilderment. He’d been listening to the old man’s story for a few minutes now, and it was becoming clear that this wasn’t just a simple case of back-alley human trafficking. It was much weirder.

“So, uh... you’re telling me that these kids you ‘entrusted’ to these people are all doing great at some other station?”

Taro barely caught himself before he used the word “sold.” The old man, Santol, beamed at him with a smile so gentle it was practically saintly.

“Oh, absolutely! The brokers are quite reliable. They keep every promise. Why, we even get emails for the families every now and then! It seems they’re all flourishing over there. Of course, since space is so vast, the messages are usually a few months old by the time they reach us, but still!”

The man’s tone was slow, calm, and utterly sincere. He wasn't sweating; he wasn't shifty. He clearly believed every word of it. Taro nodded along with a polite “I see,” while his brain screamed LIES in neon letters. Not about the emails existing—those were real enough—but about the horseshit that was undoubtedly written in them.

[“HE CLAIMS IT’S JUST ‘PROVIDING LABOR FOR SUPPLIES.’ ON THE SURFACE, IT SOUNDS LIKE A SEMI-REASONABLE TRADE, BUT WE ALL KNOW THE REALITY IS REEKING. BELLA, WHAT’S YOUR TAKE?”] Taro asked via BISHOP, transmitting his thoughts to the next room.

[“REASONABLE? KID, THIS MAKES YOUR AVERAGE SLAVE TRADER LOOK LIKE A SOUP KITCHEN VOLUNTEER. IT’S REVOLTING,”] Bella’s voice crackled back, dripping with pure vitriol.

Taro gave a mental nod of total agreement and tried to piece together the insanity he’d just stepped into.

First, the station: Garuda Station. It was a literal antique from the Early Imperial Expansion Era. They’d had zero contact with the outside world except for one specific group of people. They were barely scraping by, living on the edge of total collapse. They were a Marginal Village in space. They mined a nearby asteroid for rocks, but they didn't have the tech or the brains left to process them into anything useful.

Then there were the "brokers." These guys showed up every few years in beat-up little ships, acting like galactic philanthropists. They’d "graciously" take the station's children off their hands in exchange for life-saving equipment. The residents of Garuda Station actually thought these people were heroes. Even weirder, the station leaders seemed to think they were doing the kids a favor.

In fact, the old man was currently trying to shove about thirty young men and women onto Taro. It wasn't even about the supplies anymore; he just wanted the kids to get out while they could. At least they’ll have a better life than they would in this dump, seemed to be the reigning logic.

“............And the Stealth Device outside? Did you get that from the brokers, too?” Taro asked, his voice strained as he tried to keep his inner "Are you kidding me?" from leaking out.

“Why, yes!” the old man chirped.

Taro bit his tongue to keep from howling. A Stealth Device that can hide an entire station costs a fortune! You can't buy that with the "labor" of thirty teenagers!

[“A STEALTH DEVICE CAPABLE OF CLOAKING A STATION WOULD COST MORE THAN A MID-RANGE FRIGATE,”] Bella’s voice rang in his ear. [“YOU COULD PROBABLY BUY A DESTROYER-CLASS WARSHIP FOR THAT PRICE.”]

[“YEAH, NO KIDDING,”] Taro replied. He turned back to the old man.

“I get that you guys aren't exactly independent out here. It’s a rough neighborhood. But I have to ask... if things are this bad, why don't you just leave?”

It was the obvious question. If the house is on fire, you walk out the door. But the old man just looked confused.

“How? We don't have any ships capable of interstellar travel.”

It was so simple it hurt. Taro immediately moved the "brokers" to the very top of his People Who Need to Die Violently list. He saw the old man looking around the room with an expectant, hopeful expression, and Taro knew exactly what the next question was going to be.

“Let me think about it,” Taro said, standing up abruptly.

Technically, the Plum could fit every single person on that station. But whether he should do it was a question Taro wasn't ready to answer.

“This place is... it’s basically... DAMMIT!”

Taro stomped into the observation room where Bella and Alan were waiting. He punctuated his sentence by punching the wall, his strength amplified by his Armed Suit. The metal groaned.

“It’s a Human Ranch,” Bella said, exhaling a thick cloud of cigar smoke. Alan waved it away, looking annoyed. “I’ve dealt with some real bottom-feeders in my time, but this? This is professional-grade evil. These guys are monsters.”

“I’m with her,” Alan added. “Those brokers have been feeding them a steaming pile of lies for centuries. If they actually wanted to save those people, they could have bought a transport ship with the pocket change they spent on that Stealth Device.”

Alan walked over and rapped his knuckles against the mask of Taro’s Armed Suit.

“I know, I know!” Taro barked. He hissed as he unlatched his helmet and threw it across the room. “The people on Garuda think the Empire fell a thousand years ago. No—they were made to believe it. Did you hear why they were so slow to respond when we showed up? It’s hilarious! They thought we were aliens!”

Taro collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

“For them, time stopped millennia ago,” Alan said, sliding into the seat next to Taro. He gestured toward Bella, who reluctantly handed him a cigar. “Back then, a modern destroyer would have been considered a Battleship. They’ve been told humanity is a dying race scraping by in the dirt. Then a high-tech mobile fleet warps in? Yeah, I’d think you were a little green man too.”

“The brokers are definitely a single organization,” Bella said, crushing her cigar into an ashtray with unnecessary force. “They have to keep the story straight. They probably pretend to be different groups just to make the lies more believable. If three different people tell you the Empire is dead, you start to believe it.”

She immediately lit another one, her hands trembling with irritation.

“What kind of sickos keep a prank like that going for hundreds of years?” Alan sighed, blowing a smoke ring.

Taro let out a dry, hollow laugh. “The kind of sickos who run a Human Ranch. God, what am I supposed to do here!?”

Alan blinked at him. “What do you mean? We just take them to Alliance Territory. The Plum has plenty of room.”

Bella snorted. “Are you stupid, Alan?”

“Excuse me?”

“We can take them back, sure. But then they find out the truth. Every parent on that station will realize they didn't send their kids to a better life—they sold them to a butcher shop. And they’ve been doing it for generations. You think they can handle that? You think you could?”

Bella loomed over Alan, who slowly deflated. He went quiet, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s the problem,” Taro muttered. “I can't just drop the truth on them like a bomb. I don't want that kind of blood on my hands. They’ve seen our ships, so some of them probably suspect something is up... but we have to let their leader make the call.”

“That’s the only way,” Bella agreed, stubbing out her second cigar after only two puffs. She looked at Taro, her eyes sharp. “Take the old man and a few reps with us. Let them see the galaxy. After that, whether they tell the rest of the station or let the lie live on... that’s their burden to carry.”

She pointed a finger at Taro’s chest.

“But what you do to those brokers? That’s on you. You just happened to pass by this mess. If you walk away right now, nobody is going to blame you. We don't even know who the brokers are yet. It might be impossible to find them. Just... don't do anything you’re going to regret later.”

Bella smirked, a predatory glint in her eyes. Taro pouted at her.

“You already know what I’m going to do, don't you?”