Lakisha

The sour smell of sulphur was intense, but Lakisha’s nasal passages where caked with charcoal and dirt. It used to make her eyes water and convulsion was just one of the side effects of working long hours in the Minmatar ammo factory. The noise was deafening at times, the heavy clanging of metal sounded over the factory floors. New shells where pressed as fast as the machines could handle. Inadequate lighting occasionally resulted in injuries, some minor and some life changing.

Twelve hours a day with a thirty minute break for six days a week paid her the petty wage of 1638.50 isk a month. ‘Makes slavery look appealing!’ her co-worker Hanus joked sometimes. Lakisha would just smile, she should know…

= = =

For six years she had been a captive of the Amar. Although she had been taken forcefully and against her will she had never been treated badly. She worked and did menial tasks for a rich household for no pay but she wasn’t overworked. She was fed three times a day and had a warm bed every night. Over time she had actually grown rather fond of her captors.

‘True freedom can only be found in death’ her owner Khalid had muttered as his last words, the Amarrian ceremonial dagger still protruding from his chest. The riots in the Yakanda Prime moon 4 station had given Lakisha an opportunity for escape and flee back to her home planet. His blood dried black on her hands, a conscience guild ridden…

= = =

Reminiscing of those days made her wonder if perhaps slavery would be better than this hellhole.

Or perhaps Khalid’s true freedom…

‘Lakisha!’ Marcus shouted as he barged a large wheeled carriage into her. ‘Take these to level 4, ready for shipping these baby’s are!’ Marcus laughed. ‘Yes Marcus’ Lakisha sighed under her breath.

True freedom…

The rack of Explosive Artillery rounds was heavy. Lakisha picked up a wrench from a nearby worktop and jammed it in the carriage front wheel. The trolleys height made it top heavy and easy to push over.

Freedom…