To a processing facility

By the time the speeder lands you get truly nervous about the situation. And who wouldn’t be? You are Revan: The woman who defeated Darth Malak, bestowed to fight the real Sith in the Unknown Regions, to vanquish the threat once and for all. And you are supposed to be enslaved? For how long? Without the ****, how would you even escape? Especially in a place where all women are slaves by default?

You recall that you launched the buoy. Just in case. Once an hour passes, Carl should get the idea that something is up. But how would he get to you exactly? The authorities could simply say that they’ve never seen you, and he would be torn between using his fleet to attack a planet full of innocent people or abandoning you to your fate. The Republic of course could authorize further action. But you exactly know how bureaucracy works.

Hopefully he gets clever. You think as the speeder lands on his destination. As the sheet is lifted from your cages, you recognize yourself in a dock full armed men. You also recognize there are additional speeders, all of which with bound women freshly brought into slavery. You start to have a bad feeling about this. If these guys interpret the enslavement of women as their tradition, Carl will have a very tough time convincing them.

The three cages are lifted up from the speeder, and you are brought into a place called “REGISTRY”. You see a large - albeit not very fit - man behind a desk, two additional guards, and a set of tubes on the wall that act as bag dispensers. Whatever there may be in them.

“That one,” the man points to you. Suddenly, your cage is opened, and you are knelt down in front of him, with the ballgag promptly removed from your mouth.

“I am of an agent of the Republic, a powerful state, and they will be here for us soon,” you say.

“Yes, they were here before,” he nods. “We’ve explained them that female enslavement is our tradition, and if they are against it, they should try our luck with our space defenses. And hush, they were away, never to bother us again.”

“They will for me,” you answer.

“The same thing is said by all of you,” the man smiles. “Now many of us here would lock you into an encasement suit, and throw you into the depths of our most secure prisons, but I think that would hardly be a fair thing to do. You were just in the wrong place in the wrong time, and that is that. So how about a deal: you three decide to be good slaves, and you will have the same life as all other women who are past eighteen. It might not be the life you had back home. But it will have its joys!”

“In chains,” you dart.

“Or, you could say no, in which case I will decide for the former, and you will never know anything else then the confines of your deprivation suits. Now some chose to have this, it is unavoidable. But you were genuinely offered the happy route.”