Seas South of Palenque, Theohuanacu
As the stranded dingy was slowly pushed further southwards, towards the Pennsylvannian [sic.] archipelago, the crew of the Blade of the South watched from behind a thin veil of fog. The raft was moving by virtue of the current and winds alone; the small engine, not built for long-distance travel, had gone out days before and the fates of the dingy's occupants were left in the hands of the gods. They were Panooly refugees, escaping from the brutal civil war that had turned a once-banana republic into a full blown purgatory. But, the pasture isn't always greener on the other side. This particular group of emigrants had left eight-strong, now they were down to a mere five. Very nearly out of water, and with absolutely no food, death was inevitable, and those who succumbed to it were simply thrown overboard into the shark infested waters around them. While the ship stalking them perhaps could have picked them up earlier, they would not have been pirates had they not enjoyed watching their prey suffer. Besides, it's not as if capture by pirates is any better than a slow, painstaking death at sea — for most, the former was a much, much worse fate than the latter.
Captained by Blue-Eyed Nolan, the Blade of the South was like your typical pirate ship. The size of a destroyer, she was built with an emphasis on speed. The Golden Throne's occupation of Theohuanacu had pitted the Empire against the pirates that controlled much of the island's southeastern coastline and a six-year, on-and-off conflict ensued. Having just fought the War of Golden Succession, the Kriermada operated large, heavy fleets designed to fight large battles against similarly sized foes. Rather than stand their ground, and face certain death, the pirates instead opted for the naval equivalent of a Fabian strategy. Placing emphasis on fast, light ships, the Theohuanacu buccaneers conducted hit-and-run raids on their Imperial harassers and otherwise simply avoided patrolling fleets by quickly skirting around them while smuggling their cargoes. These were usually comprised of goods that were banned in the various Díenstadi nations around Theohuanacu, although, given that the Empire regulated almost no market, the pirates gravitated towards the buying-and-selling of slaves. Stealing them from the poorer, war-torn tropical nations, Theohuanacu swashbucklers would then distribute them inter-regionally.
Despite their bad raps, ironically pirates can be the near-epitome of liberal governance.1 Because piracy — in this case — was voluntary, crew members were free to quit at their own volition, and someone looking for better terms could easily switch to a superior employer. In a world of excessive armaments production, ships were cheap and start-up costs were low, meaning high profits (adjusted, of course, by a risk factor) invited many brave souls to the "Theohuanacu slave trade." There was always another captain looking for labor, and since pirates tend to stick together when on land it was always easy to find another job. This meant that captains had to evolve in order to attract the highest quality of crew, giving way to the introduction of constitution-bound pirate ships. Rules governed the liberties of each pirate on the ship, including the captain, ensuring that the men respected each other, that they fought with their hearts, and that the booty was equitably distributed. All members could even count on a pension and remarkably generous workers' compensation. These were a respectable set of institutions, and surprisingly sophisticated for a band of thieves and murderers.
The criminal democracy that was the Blade of the South finally decided to pounce on its prey. Slaves were of no use to them dead and the buccaneer's taste for the morbid had already cost them three potential products. Picking up speed, the steel ship emerged from the fog and illuminated its fog light directly upon the struggling Panoolies below. Standing upon the deck of the ship, alongside a small team of crew members, Captain Nolan finished giving orders and then approached the port-side rail to survey the stranded dingy. When the ship was close enough, he motioned from the direction of his crew members over to the boat-full of migrants and said, "Okay lads, bring them up. Treat 'em real well. We'll want them healthy for th' markets."
Two men climbed into a lifeboat, while the other crew members helped to lower them into the water. It took them about twenty minutes to gather the survivors and to bring them back to the Blade of the South. The pirates offered the new additions to their cargo blankets to keep them warm, as well as food and water — everything a human being stranded in the middle of the ocean may need to survive. Once onto the deck of the ship, they were all taken to their quarters. They'd sleep in a large room, lined with comfortable bunk beds. Some of these were already taken by some thirty other migrants who had too been "rescued" by the Blade of the South. They were all treated like refugees who had just endured one of the most miserable experiences of their lives, not like slaves. There was no sense in scaring them now. Instead, the pirates would take them to Palenque — the last remaining Theohuanacu city under pirate governance —, where they would be briefed on their new lives as slaves and then auctioned in a local market. That way they avoided any troubles that could come from attempted escapes and other forms of resistance (even suicide); in Palenque there was no liability, because turn-around was quick (two days, on average).
The voyage back to Palenque took a little over twenty-four hours, with the ship arriving to the port late the following evening. These type of short trips were already typical, given that the political situation in many neighboring countries had deteriorated already for quite some time, but they were becoming even more common with the heightened conflict in Holy Panooly and Indras. More often than not, refugees attempting to escape conflict and oppression at home would get lost traveling across Díenstadi waters, making them easy pickings for pirates looking to sell healthy humans in the lucrative, inter-regional luxury slave market. While not all of those captured met the standards of luxury, the type of persons being picked up by pirates had a higher probability of 'market-worthiness,' since people from poorer areas have experience working labor-intensive jobs (and therefore also tend to be more physically fit). Not all of them were healthy, but that was something their owners would be able to fix to some degree or another. The point is that supply was growing and there was an ever-present opportunity for pirates to act as intermediaries; there were hundreds, if not thousands, of other ships — much like the Blade of the South — fiending the Díenstadi seas for fresh meat.
Why the emphasis on luxury? Because Greater Díenstad includes some of the most ardent abolitionist governments, including Lamoni and Lyras, the regional slave market had always been quite limited (and very dangerous). In fact, whatever local slave trade the region could boast of was for the most part eliminated during a joint Stevidian-Macabee operation to clear the seas around Theohuanacu and Adaptes Astrates of pirates — the first of many pirate conflicts incited by the Golden Throne's occupation of Theohuanacu. As a result, whatever trading of slaves there was was inter-regional, forcing the pirates to ship their 'wares' across much longer distances. Because of the higher shipping costs involved, the relative price between luxury and non-luxury slaves from pirate stocks shifts in favor of the former — demand changes accordingly.2 Captured persons who couldn't be sold at a profit, because they did not meet the standards for 'luxury items,' would simply be transported back to a third world country, where they forced to sign a contract forcing them to surrender ten percent of their earnings to their captors for the next twenty years, to pay for the 'travel ticket.' The term 'barbarous' comes to mind, but even it would be too kind to these brand of pirates.
The Blade of the South moored deep within the Palenque harbor. Since the pirates had lost control of Tiwanaku and Tlaloc, the two other large harbors along the southeastern coast of the island,during the wars with the Golden Throne, Palenque saw a sudden upsurge in traffic soon after the Macabee occupation of the island. This required an expansion of the harbor, making docking there a much more confusing and time-consuming process, especially because the area hadn't risen proportionally with the increase in the number of inbound and outbound ships. Weaving through a number of compartmentalized areas, some designated for loading, others for unloading, and others simply intended for the purpose of leaving ships there overnight, Captain Nolan's ship slowly made its way to its usual berth. When docked and secured, her human cargo began to be unloaded and shuffled to what the pirates told their captives was an immigration office. There they would be put through a physical, where their value would be determined. Afterwards, the group would be split off and sent to two different holding cells; one for those who made the cut and one for those who did not. Within two or three days those cells would be open again for the next batch of human cattle.
While his cargo was off to get 'processed,' Blue-Eyed Nolan sent his men home — whether that was with a family or, more likely, with a prostitute. He didn't have time for such things; instead, he took a taxi over to 'Obsidian Snake,' a tavern located about fifteen minutes from the port. While Palenque was more-or-less a modern city, Obsidian Snake was as 'golden age' as a place of its kind could get. Flanked on both sides by buildings flaunting colonial Guffingfordi architecture, a mixture of the Pantocratorian and Knootian artistic influence, the bar was far more modest. Its plain, brick red walls were decorated only by wooden window frames, a large door, and a wooden platform that extended out from the tavern's second floor to provide guests with a balcony on which to stand on and harass those passing on below. Inside the tavern was even more plain, with various round, wooden tables scattered about, along with dozens of drunk pirates acting like fools. In one corner, however, stood out a man who was unlike all the others. His skin color was not as dark as the those of the men around him — he had clearly not lived in Palenque very long — and his garb was foreign. Although Nolan had never met him before, he knew that was the person he was looking for.
Ignoring the drunken stupor around him, Captain Nolan walked up to the man's table and sat down on the other side. "No need t' worry, mate. Ye might be knowin' me as Blue-Eyed Nolan. Ye partners 'n I have spoken befo'"
The other man took a swig from a mug full with beer, locally brewed and prepared to local taste. Pursing his lips, the Scandinvan replied, "You call this beer? My servants can make a better brew than this garbage."
Nolan bellowed a deep laugh and said, "Don't worry, ye gunna get used to it before I sail out." Pausing for a second, he continued, "I told ye who I be, so reciprocate."
"I am Hammond ap Garest arn granst aot Garest," responded the man. Noticing that the pirate was giving a rather puzzled look back, the Scandinvan quickly condensed his introduction to give his guest — probably an illiterate — an easier time processing the name, "Lord Hammond to you, Captain Nolan, since I see that our conversations are going to be rather...informal." After drinking a little bit more of that horrid drink these thieving and murdering mongrels called beer, he went on, "It's already late, so let's go straight to business, shall we?"
"A scurvy dog wit' grenadines" — the local currency standard around which local private currencies based their value — "on his mind. Me kind 'o fellow." A large-breasted waitress wearing little in the name of clothing came up to their table and Blue-Eyed turned his attention to her, ordering a mug of jinharem, a popular distilled alcohol that had been produced by the Theohuanacu pirates for many long centuries now. He took some additional time to heckle her and then finally turned back to Lord Hammond. "Believe it or not, despite your elegant garb and your sophisticated façade, you and I be very much alike. 'N I be not as stupid as ye think." He paused again and decided to go in a different direction, "So, be tellin' me Scandinvan——"
"Valgardian," corrected Hammond. "You confuse me with a commoner."
"No harm intended, mate. Pirates like me aren't always th' most worldly, so I implore you to 'xcuse the occasional ignorance." The woman returned with Nolan's drink and he passed her a few grenadines, along with a full-hand pat to the rear to send her on her way. "Anyways, be tellin' me...Valgardian..., what be yer proposition."
Hammond unveiled a folded map, taking it out from his back pocket, and opened it on the table. It showed the regions of Greater Díenstad and Gholgoth, as well as a number of other regions relevant to the inter-regional slave trade. There were a number of arrows going in various directions, but there was a clear pattern. "Look here," said the Valgardian lord, pointing to the map, "this is you and this is your network of clientele." He used his right index finger to scroll across a number of countries, all importers of Díenstadi luxury slaves. "That is a large market and, right now, you are the masters of it. The problem we, the Glorious Empire, have with this is that there are a variety of intermediaries that help you distribute your product throughout the world. That is a job we'd be very interested in taking control of. We know, as you and other captains have communicated to us, that you're unhappy with your current political agreement with the Golden Throne. We are prepared to back you, with funding and armaments, in your endeavors to reclaim the power you lost. In return, you will contract distribution to Scandinvan slavers exclusively."
Blue-Eyed Nolan thought about it for a second. "That's a tall order, me bucko. I transport slaves, but I don't control th' market. Still, it's an enticing offer."
As aforementioned, before the arrival of the Golden Throne, much of the southeastern coastline of Theohuanacu was in pirate hands. The three major pirate cities consisted of: Tlaloc, Tiwanaku, and Palenque. By the end of the initial occupation of the island, the pirates lost Tlaloc after a prolonged siege of the city. An agreement was signed, subjecting the pirates to an annual tributary tax; in return, the Theohuanacu buccaneers were allowed all forms of self-government. After this treaty was broken by then-governor Aparicio de Soto, a subsequent war resulted in the further loss of Tiwanaku. Now the pirates were mostly constrained to Palenque, a city they were mostly safe in, because the Empire couldn't be bothered with subduing it — the costs were simply too high, and the benefits too insignificant. But, Imperial apathy had surrendered the initiative to the pirates, and offering criminals the first move is most certainly a bad decision. Thus, Lord Hammond's offer was indubitably succulent. While the pirates had lost all hope of defeating the Empire in a land war, at least when they were at full strength, under the right conditions perhaps a pirate rebellion could succeed, especially when supported by a major Gothic power.
"Let me know by Friday." A short deadline to give to such a pitch, but the sail back the Scandinvans would be a long one and Lord Hammond could afford to leave no later.
Pensive, the captain tapped his fingers on the wooden table. "I will present th' offer to th' council tomorrow. Then I will let ye be knowin' o' their decision. I trust I will see ye in th' markets tomorrow." He was referring to the slave auctions. I have some fine booty for sale. Prime material for slaves these be."
"Show me, don't tell me," joked the Valgardian. "But, yes, you and I will cross paths tomorrow and I will make sure to peruse your wares. If I may ask, where do your particular specimens originate from?"
"Holy Panooly," responded Nolan. "We captured some big, strong, and tall coloreds struggling in th' seas. They'd be perfect for hard work. And th' lasses be young and pretty; I can think o' more than one thing they'd be good for. I'm sure yer thinkin' th' same thing, ye dog." He let out another deep, rumbling laugh. Hammond gave him a disgusted face and Nolan laughed again. "Ye're not in yer manor, ye're in Palenque now, th' 'ungovernable city.' Expect th' crassness."
The Valgardian gave an indifferent chuckle, looked down at his still mostly full mug, and set it down on the table. "I think I've had enough of this city for today. Maybe I can continue to acclimate tomorrow."
"Sweet dreams, cupcake." With that, the Scandinvan left and the captain could focus on mattered the most, persuading the waitress to sleep with him that night (something many other drunkards were most likely attempting today). Quickly guzzling down his jinharem and then quickly drinking the beer Hammond had left behind — free beer being free beer —, Nolan called her over again. She scurried to his corner of the pub and he proceeded to do his thing, until he got his way with her. Of course, perhaps his coin was more persuasive than his charm; in this city, no service was free. He took her back to his land quarters, a stylish apartment just six or seven blocks from the Obsidian Snake. His place wasn't too shabby, considering he had made himself some impressive revenue during his time as a captain of a pirate ship. In the morning, she'd be gone and he'd get ready for the auctions, where his 'wares' would be sold to the highest bidder. Dressing himself in robes traditional to slavers — a ceremonial garb for the most part —, he made sure to grab a whip before heading out the door. Slaves always needed...motivation...when following orders.
"There's nothin' like th' smell o' sweat, blood, and piss in th' morning."
1. This paragraph is based on Leeson, P., The Invisible Hook (Princeton University Press, 2011).
2. This is known as the Allen-Alchian Theorem.