Chapter Text
I'm probably to blame, at least a little bit. I did sign that god forsaken contract. Like. An Idiot.
Without Reading It Through.
But that's what happens when you grow up thoroughly trained to be a people pleaser to normal people (not evil pieces of shit - they can all get mauled by lions and I'll sit back with popcorn and watch).
The nurse was getting super impatient as I tried to read the small text, kept looking at the clock, sighing, tapping her pen on the her computer. I caved. I'm not proud. Like at all. I knew it was a mistake THEN, yet here I am. Practically sold into slavery on a foreign planet.
I grew up in foster care, self-reliant at a young age. Tough piece of work and knew how to take a beating, but I really only prided myself on being the responsible one, the one who was the "older brother" to everyone. I wanted to be needed, and with all the other kids crammed into such close quarters, there was always a need for a protector.
I was two weeks from aging out of the system, and I thought it would be a good idea to earn some easy cash. HA
The government was offering a genetic placement program. They take a little blood and compare the results to the ecological system of the newest planet undergoing colonization. Apparently there is a dire need to conquer this new frontier. The rumor being that there is some really valuable resources that need to be studied ASAP.
…It just occurred to me I don't even know the name of this god forsaken rock heap! Yes, I am that out of touch with society.
Back to the contract. Apparently it was sooo vague in language, that what appeared to be a mission meant to better humanity, actually meant that whatever the researcher you were assigned to, could do whatever they deem necessary to you. Translation - written consented slavery.
A part of me thinks it was arrogance. That no legal jargon could possibly hurt me, I've survived the worst.
Ha. Ha.
Here I am, laying in a cryotube, that has obviously been in hyperspace for a LONG time, based on how HUNGREY AND THIRSTY I am. All I can remember is the immediate regret of signing that twenty-three page paperwork, and the look of absolute shock on the nurse's face as she read my results.
I haven't stopped shivering since I woke up, but at least I'm not yelling or crying like a lot of my fellow passengers are. I'll be fine, I'll try and see if I can extend the confidence to some of these others, even if I am only holding onto said confidence by a shoe string.