Friday, 20 February 2015

On the ethics of a former slaver

I can't help myself.

There are too many who have, through circumstance or misfortune, ended up as the possessions of others. Cheap labour that only needs a place to sleep and enough food to do the job placed in front of them. The prettier ones are... well... ahem... lets just say that they carry out other... duties.

Too many have been sold into their new life, as merchandise, and while on my watch.

I turned a blind eye as to how they were found. What aspirations and hopes that they had before. What they have now and where their life will end. I could not listen to their stories because they were painful and without any hope for the future.

Too much like mine.

There's no doubt that I was good at what I did. I led many an Authority Vessel a merry chase among the stars when they hoped their trap would ensnare me. Always one step ahead and doing a fine job of delivering someone else's property. By my own ingenuity I was never caught and sentenced to walk in the vacuum of space. Such is the penalty metered out to my kind in the systems where I did business.

Though I was always owned by someone else, and in the end was no different to the cargo I carried.

So when a chance to escape came I took it. Friends helped, and some paid too high a price. I cannot repay that. Nor can can I address the wrongs against the slaves that I have carried in my cargo hold. But I can make a difference now, in some small way.

So I free slaves whenever I can. Give them a start into a new life.

I can't help myself.