The 'Command Center' was a singular room that was accessible through the same study that Solae had fled into. This had been done by the deceased plantation owner to limit its accessibility by his staff and slaving employees alike, as well as safeguard he knew who was inside, how long, and [i]when.[/i] A short set of cheap, sturdy metal stairs led them no more than one story underground and into a barren hallways before emptying into the apparent technological center of operations.

Each wall of the enclosed space was covered in screens that displayed information that, on a cursory glance, would be of interest to someone in the profession of Argon's master. On the left wall were economic figures from the sector showing the current values of the crops being harvested outside, their forecasted gains and losses, and a graph for each showing variations in price over the previous three months. Profitable as the human trade might be that was not the entirety of their business. The computer attached to this particular display had analysis printed in real time on the bottom in columns sorted alphabetically by crop name. Rubber had spiked due to an increased demand caused by the onset of armed conflict. Flashing letters alerted the empty consoles they should wait approximately 52 hours to maximize on the profit gained given historical comparisons of prior rebellions. The middle screen was fragmented into various maps showing the planet as a whole and it's nearest interstellar stations, one of Armistice proper (that revealed it was occupied by a prolific number of armored men and heavy machinery), and a few of the nearest settlements of Empire citizens. An angular, rotating view of the plantation itself dominated as it shifted without instruction following various movements of drones. On the right screen were spreadsheets of inventory of the humanoid variety- names, ages, tiny portraits, and asking prices. Given the text scrolling on the left of these chilling summaries of living beings were what appeared to be illicit bids and chat regarding the chattel.

"Argon, are you still available in here?" Solae called in as they stepped inside. She motioned to Rene, the maid, and the butler to each take one of the five chairs that were installed in the center of the room. Upholstered in synthetic fabric and thick foam they were comfortable but not quite as luxurious as a true noble might have in their quarters. They spun in a complete circle to allow them to see any of the displays but also to turn towards each other to make a circle. A thick cylindrical table was in the middle of the quintet that thrummed with power indicating it could be utilized for holographic imagery itself.

"Yes, Solae Falia." The maid gasped at the name but the butler was more reserved. Clearly they had heard about the bounty that was being broadcasted over all of New Concordia; they had not, however, known enough about Solae's physical appearance to equate the two.

"Please turn off your auditory recording of this room but let the visual monitors remain online. If you see any aggressive action from the two that are not myself or Rene, have a drone ready to respond. Do you understand?" she asked.

"Yes, Solae Falia," Argon replied pleasantly. "I have also located the artificial intelligence system you requested earlier. How would you like for me to proceed?"

"Download a copy of the back up, using my authorization codes if necessary, and store it to an interface transport stick. I will need to take it with me manually rather than transfer it electronically. While you process that transaction for me I would also like for you to alert me if there is any aircraft, spacecraft, vehicles, or persons approaching our location. Syshin may be allowed in and out of the perimeter, but nothing else without my prior approval."

"Yes, Solae Falia," Argon repeated smoothly before falling silent. It was as much privacy as one could truly have in any residence that was monitored and assisted by a synthetic technological organism.

The marquise crossed her legs as she took a long, hard look at both the maid and the butler. She had not yet asked their names because she was cautious how familiar she truly wanted to be with the hired hands of a slaver who had abused an alien race physically, mentally, and in the case of the females, sexually. That he had even listed the heavily traumatized Syshin as maids was as laughable as it was repugnant- perhaps the overweight woman before her had tidied the beds but she suspected that the Syshin were pets for a deviant who 'tested' his goods and kept the best for himself. Solae sincerely hoped his captives would find peace if they returned to Amber Horizon. Nari and Enro were more than capable in caring for their own but the rapid changes in their circumstances would create a strain on their resources. It was sorely tempting to simply stay in the decommissioned space ship with them, forget who she was, and allow herself to be swept up in the foreign culture as an escape of what lay ahead of her.

After pondering for several long moments she asked each the same unusual question: "How did you come to work here?"

Both were taken aback by this query; the butler raised a brow despite his stoicism and the maid proceeded to turn into a blubbering mess that made Solae's stomach turn. Neither answered immediately. The older gentleman seemed to be considering why she was asking such things while holding them hostage and looked between Rene and Solae suspiciously. The aging woman was either consumed by her own guilt or hear fears (for neither highborn had relinquished their weapon) and started to choke on her heaving breath and tears. If she was looking for sympathy she was doing a poor job of invoking it out of the golden-haired scion who waited impassively.

"I needed work," the butler simply stated after prolonged silence. "There was an advertisement seeking a man of education to help oversee the basic tasks of a home on a plantation, as well as handle light menial tasks for the plantation itself. I used to manage a quarry but I was forced to retire and could not pay all my bills staying retired." The more Solae listened to the inflections of the elderly man's voice the more convinced she was that he was not now, nor had ever been, noble. More than likely he had been a member of the upper middle class before a series of unfortunate events put him into a financial tailspin and led him to becoming someone else's paid servant.

"Did you have any slaves?" Solae asked placidly. The maid continued to wail loudly.

"I did not," the butler said indignant outrage that punctuated his words.

"Rene, could you escort the lady here to a place where she can calm down on her own? You can commandeer one of the drones, but I can't have someone disrupting us," she remarked delicately. Rene nodded and, taking the mess of a woman under the arm, led her upstairs to a guest bedroom where she could be secured with door locks, windows covered in thick plates left intact by Solae's lockdown, and Argon's vigilant eye.

"I would like to an extend an offer to you," Solae said, leaning forward as she withdrew the pistol from her holster. The butler did not look as if he had intentions to bolt but she would not have him escaping under her watch if his actions belied his motives. "My companion and I need to leave New Concordia and to do that we need a space ship. I understand one should be arriving here tonight. If you help me communicate with the pilot of that spaceship, and turn a blind eye to the escape of the Syshin slaves, I will see that the slush fund that is scrolling on these displays is partially diverted to an account under your control as compensation. I'm sure you're thinking about the bounty because it is quite significant. I don't blame you for being tempted. But the fact of the matter is, as you can see, we will not be taken alive, and that is what the rebellion wants. You can either chose the wealth over there, " she motioned with her free hand, "or take a gamble that I won't commit suicide before you transport me to the fledgling government that can't even keep the small villages near here safe."

The butler pursed his lips in displeasure before letting his gaze drift over to the aforementioned displays. What Solae had tactfully omitted was that his refusal could also end in his demise rather than hers. He let out one long, despondent sigh and shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "What do you want me to do?" he asked wearily.

"What time is the transport scheduled to arrive?" As eager as she was to know she kept her voice even and level.

"Right before the shift change - a few minutes before 10," the butler informed her apprehensively. It made sense. Arrival would be late enough that residents of the area would already be in bed or too tired to care what the plantation was doing if anything carried them close enough to notice. Monitors of star charts and travel would be reluctant to write up reports before they want off duty and would be exhausted from the the long hours they typically worked. Unfortunately, that left Solae and Rene with more time than they knew what to do with before they would have a chance to depart this world.