Week 1: Tuesday, 4th Dec 2029, Evening

The evening couldn't come soon enough. It's a special day for my girls, we're officiating my ownership over them. But in all honestly, it's just theatrics. I'm pretty sure Jen and Yoko would still happily serve me without any bounds. But I like theatrics. It reinforces the idea, good for training.

I’m seated behind my desk. The girls lined up, kneeling in front of the desk. There are outsiders, so they have to put on the show. I won't let unruly slaves damage my reputation.

I soon heard a knock. Must be the Covenant Notary.

"Lisa, get the door" I commanded.

"Yes Master," Lisa replied softly. crawled to the door, opened it and greeted the guest.

"Good evening, Miss Vivian. I welcome you on behalf of my master, Moxie." She introduces me, still kneeling.

"Good evening, just call me Moxie." I stood up and walked to her . "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you Moxie." She replied, extending her hand.

Her grip is firm, professional. I return it without ceremony.

“Your reputation precedes you,” she adds. “Several of my seniors officiated your contracts. I’ve read the logs. Your record was, well, exceptional.”

Her eyes flick toward the girls, and that smile sharpens.

“They say your average turnaround for complete training was under a month. Very impressive.”

I give a small nod.

"Just doing my job."

The evening couldn’t come soon enough.

It’s a special night, for them, and for me. We’re officiating ownership, Covenant-stamped, legally bound. But let’s not pretend it means anything. Jen and Yoko would serve me without ink, andwithout chain. But I like ceremony. Ceremony reinforces identity. And reinforcement is good for training.

I sit behind my desk, posture relaxed but composed.

The girls kneel before it in perfect form: spines straight, hands on thighs, heads angled just enough to signal discipline without vacancy. There are outsiders tonight, so they put on the full display. I don’t tolerate slackness, not in private, never in public. An unruly **** doesn’t just embarrass herself. She tarnishes my reputation, I'm gonna need that for business.

A knock.

Right on time.

“Lisa. Door.”

“Yes, Master.” Her reply is soft.

She crawls, slow, elegant, practiced, and opens the door with her head bowed low. A moment later, she offers the guest a nod.

“Good evening, Miss Vivian. I welcome you on behalf of my Master, Moxie.”

Still kneeling, still poised.

Vivian steps inside. Her presence seeks professionalism. black Covenant suit, silver cuffs, and her family crest above the lapel.

“Good evening, Miss Vivian” I say, standing.

“Yes. Moxie.” She extends her hand. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Please, have a seat.”

Her grip is professional, even practiced. I return it without inflection. Her smile is tight, but her glance slips again, down the row of girls, at Lisa still kneeling by the door.

“Your reputation precedes you,” she says, smoothing her skirt as she sits. “Several of my seniors officiated your previous contracts. I've read the logs. Your record was… exceptional.”

“Just doing my job.”

She pauses, folds one leg over the other.

“Tonight’s contract... it’s for all three?”

“Formally, yes. Practically?” I glance at Jen, then Yoko. “They've belonged to me for a long time. We're just making it official. A formal introduction into the new world”

“Let’s get to business then,” Vivian said briskly, sliding her Covenant data-pad across the desk with a flick of her wrist.

I nodded. Calm on the outside, but curious beneath. It’s my first time watching a contract get officiated. Usually I’m deep in the training halls. Distribution? Paperwork? That’s another department. One I never envied.

The process was... disappointing.

One by one, she approached the girls, collected biometrics, pressed a glyph, logged confirmation. No vows. No collaring. No affirmation. Just scan, stamp, move on. It felt like tagging livestock.

Just legal transition. Five minutes flat.

“Done,” Vivian said, returning to her seat. “Mr. Moxie, congratulations. You’ve got a fine group.”

“That’s it?” I asked, brow lifted. “I thought a contract signing might involve... I don’t know. A contract.”

"Ha ha, nah. It’s slavery. They’re signing away everything. In the Covenant’s eyes, they’re not signatories. They’re inventory. But you get a receipt."

She actually handed me one. 5K credits per **** just for 5 min work? In this economy? Day-light robbery.

“Now, Mr. Moxie… may I ask a personal question?”

I leaned back.

“Ask away.”

“Your reputation precedes you,” she began, the words rehearsed. “So I assume you’ll be continuing your slaving business?”

“Naturally.” I nodded. “I’ve still got plenty of old contacts. But I’m not doing the training myself anymore. At least, not for the ones I am selling.”

“Then I have a proposal. One that benefits us both.”

I didn’t move.

“Go on.”

“Given the volume of **** trade nowadays, you can’t expect a Covenant notary to officiate every single contract. So we partner with institutions, schools, enclaves, raiders, slavers, anyone with volume and discipline. Grant them the right to compile and officiate their own contracts.”

She glanced down at her pad, flicking through menus as if for effect.

“We still perform audits, of course. To prevent overreach.”

“Naturally.”

“What I’m offering,” she said, straightening, “is for your company to be licensed under my authority. I would be your assigned officiant. Every contract processed through me. Seamless. Quick. Clean.”

I raised a brow.

“And what’s in it for me?”

She smiled. Too quickly.

“Legally? You could apply yourself. With your numbers, you'd be accepted, eventually.”

“So why you?”

“Because if you partner through me, you gain a powerful ally. My mother heads the East European sector. I’ve been handling X-4 contracts for two years. This deal? It would fast-track me to senior notary, maybe even management.”

She leaned forward slightly, voice lowering, confessional.

“And I can help with the potential resistance to your arrival. I know the arcology well”

I waited a beat.

Then nodded.

“Reasonable.”

“So… we have a deal?”

“We do.”

“Great.” She pulled up the authorization form, stylus already out. “Sign here.”

I read it, pretty standard stuff. Deal in exchange for information. Thumb pressed. Glyph registered. Done.

I glance at my slaves, three kneeling figures, still silent, still mine long before her tablet confirmed it.

“Tonight was supposed to be the night my slaves signed themselves to me,” I say. Then shrug. “Turns out the only person who signs anything… is the owner and the notary. Ironic.”

“That’s bureaucracy for you.” Vivian smirks. "I'll see myself out, Mr. Moxie. Have fun with your new slaves."

Yes, that's the plan.