Chapter Text
Strings of smoke fly through dirty air as bright neon lights bounce off a million reflective surfaces. Sewers waft up the excrement of the packed city as he passes by the drug store for the hundredth time. But he doesn’t mind. He’s grown up with it after all. The noisy vehicles, sloppy drunks galavanting down the cracked pavement, the chilly nights and hot afternoons. Smog filled cities and dry dead countryside with the occasional acid rain, is all he ever knew. The top of skyscrapers always having been his favorite place to perch. Watching as life goes by on ground level. Being nothing but a bystander… In his free time.
Thunderous crackling noises shatter his ear drums. Gun fire goes off in a small tunnel. Shouts of both agony and demand fill the air. A brown trench coat swaying in the wind of a rushing train. Someone gives the command.
"Now." A low raspy voice confidently announces. An officer brings their arms up only to be batted to the ground.
A loud high pitched ringing bouncing off the walls of a skull.
He was a bystander…Until he was caught.
Hard white light washes over Technos back and shoulders.
Strapped to a chair with nowhere to run.
He was given an ultimatum.
“Technoblade. You have two options. You either pay for your war crimes right now. Or…” The interrogator says stiffly, circling him in the darkness.
“You may find yourself on a mission that embarks into space in two weeks time. Prove that you can change for the greater good.”
Surprisingly enough he didn’t sound snide like Techno thought he would. Pinned in a metal chair hunched over in a small box with no way out. He started weighing his options. The price to pay for treason and terrorism was a high one.
One that he would likely not survive.
“It’s a mission for the advancement of biological technologies on Earth and surveyment of the planet.”
“What’s the catch?” He spoke very calmly, considering his situation.
“You can’t harm any of the crew on the mission. Can’t sabotage. Can’t do anything that would put the crew in harms way. And you have to follow protocol. As well as obey the head commander of the ship.”
“And if I don’?” The question searing in his ears as he feels the man's presence over his shoulder, hot breath on his skin.
“You will die.” The words were spoken plain as day.
Silence.
Tilting his head up, Techno looks into his reflection, caustically smiling at the people on the other side of the mirror.
Sleep
High pitched ringing.
Bright white light.
Cold air.
The taste of blood.
That's all he remembers of waking up.
“ 8r3@Th ”
A train rushes past. Thrashing his leather jacket in the biting wind. Techno stands with his hands at his sides staring off into the abyss of what once was an empty tunnel. Square sections of light tear across stone rhythmically, as Technoblade pays too much mind to the tension in his shoulders. The train ripples waves in reality like droplets splashing into a puddle. Rotating metal wheels become impossibly loud. Shaking the air around his body. Drowning out the rest of the world. Technoblade jumps at the jovial hand placed on his shoulder. It felt dead.
“How yuh holdin’ up?” A mans voice rasps past yellow teeth.
Techno can’t seem to utter a single word of reassurance. His mouth became a vice in that moment. The mucles in his jaw clench so hard that he might split his teeth.
The high pitched ringing starts to slowly rise in his ears.
“Y0u N33|) t0 VV@|<3 UP”
The man tried to turn him with one hand. But it was met with resistance, as only Technos shoulder moved.
The train fully passed and Techno felt like he might get sucked into the void it left in its wake. Never to be seen again.
“Techno…?” This time with a slightly more perturbed tone. “Yuh gud?.”
The phantom shriek of wheels almost drowns out the voice all together. He can’t feel his own fingers. But the rest of his body has become cold and clammy.
“Techno, turn ‘round, that's an orda.” The other man commanded, the grip on his shoulder tightens but Techno was frozen in place. Unable to move, speak or even blink.
“Technoblade?” The voice sounds furious as he roughly shoves himself in front of Technos body. Standing in front of him was a tall man wearing a brown ragged trench coat with a mustard yellow turtleneck. He smells of cigarettes.
“Why do yuh have a bloody nose?”
In an instant his vision dims, the rising screech continued until he truly opens his eyes.
Someone was there when he woke up. Bright fluorescents shine directly into his eyes. A woman with the name tag “Niki” above her breast was standing over him in a light uniform.
“Hello?” She darts her head back and forth between something he couldn’t quite make out and his own bed ridden form.
“I think he’s coming too.” She murmurs to someone with a sense of reassurance. Two pink locks of hair had been pulled out purposely from her bun, framing her face. Making it easier for Techno to track where she was looking with his lazy eyes.
“Technoblade can you hear me? Say something if you can, please.”
Strobe lights are flashing through his head of places, people, and things he left behind. Nights of colorful lights, girls outside strip clubs trying to trade their bodies for items, cement and fists wet with blood, the smell of cigarettes. It is overwhelming. But eventually the memories of parkouring away from police, and drinking beers in the hideout, fades to the back of his mind.
“Can you speak?” The woman asks patiently.
Techno can barely move his neck let alone open his mouth so he settles for shaking his head ‘no’ in response.
Not a second later someone he can’t see speaks up.
“Ah- he’s fine. It’s not like it would matter if he dropped dead anyways-“
But something or someone cuts the person off, and they wince in protest. And that’s when his blurry vision notices someone approaching from the right side.
Leaning over the gurney a man with dirty blond hair and piercing green eyes looks down on him. A plain expression on his face devoid of emotion.
“Welcome aboard the Eprove”
Apparently making someone go into cryo-sleep when they’ve never done it before, AND having them sleep 6 months for their first time does bad things to the body.
Who would have thought!
Techno was stuck in bed for the first 3 days thanks to that stunt. But when did anyone ever care about that? The criminal who shouldn’t even be alive right now is going to complain about it. Wow, real great.
You’d think they would look into that more before going through with something like this. BUT I mean- he’s a literal terrorist and just like the guy earlier said, “No one would care if he dropped dead anyways.” So that makes it perfectly fine right?
Warm fingers curl around his shoulder gently nudging him. A soft whisper chasing off the fog in his mind.
“It’s time to wake up.”
Techno’s eyelids slowly lift, meeting the blurry counter and cabinets. The warm body leaves his side to get back to a desk. Slowly sitting up, a pain streaks down his back. And he begins rolling his shoulders trying to shake off the tension. But while he was tilting his head forward to stretch his neck, something caught his eye. Light pink snake-like strands fall over his shoulders.
Amber eyes lock onto the color that should not have been. Fingers wrapping around locks of the vibrant hue. All Techno was ever known to have was chocolate brown hair. So how—? And that’s when the small glimmer of a memory rises to the surface of his fuzzy thoughts.
Someone raked their filthy fingers through his scalp. Pushing egregious amounts of the bright color deep into his roots. For the expressed purpose of both humiliating him and making him easier to spot.
Technoblade slumps back into a lying position, grimacing at the memory.
I mean at least he slept well. Rolling around is usually a constantly recurring feature. But this time he was just flat out dead.
Turning over on the stiff as boards bed, he notices the lady that greeted him when he woke up, typing away on a holographic computer. Without looking she addresses him.
“There is a crew meeting in 10 minutes. Everyone has to attend, even you. So I thought I would wake you up. Are you feeling well enough to walk?”
“Ah should be…” His tongue almost didn’t want to work, nearly making him gag. Can’t really tell if that’s from the social anxiety or because he’s not as functional as he thought he was. Rotating his legs to hang off the bed he presses his feet to the floor. But all he can feel is strong tingles jolting through nerves. He starts rolling his ankles and swinging his legs, trying to wake them up. And when the first signs of blood flow start occuring he impatiently presses more weight into them and starts leaning forward.
Stumbling, his feet squeaking on the linoleum. The woman turns her head, a look of confusion and concern on her face. But just as he was about to eat tile he caught himself.
“Are you okay?” She quickly gets up, ready to grab him just in case he falls.
“Yeah m’fine.” Standing still, arms spread for a few seconds Techno slowly straightens out. Exhaling quietly as he leans his weight on either foot trying to find balance again.
“If you say so. But don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it. I’ll leave you clothes to put on.” The nurse scampers off to probably dig through a duffle bag with his name on it.
Niki is inherently nice.
Possibly one of the nicest people he’s ever met and that’s not saying much but still. When there's someone that helps you in every way they can, knowing you are a fuckin’ terroist, it’s gratifying. Even though you don’t deserve it.
He takes a step.
Or maybe it’s just their job to care? Honestly he can’t really tell.
Niki comes back with a stack of neutral toned fabrics in her hands.
“Here. Put these on and follow the signs down the hall to the main control center.”
She set the pile at the foot of the bed, neatly folded and clean. All Technoblade can manage is a nod even though he wants to say more.
“Try not to be late Mr. Blade,” she says before exiting the room promptly.
Nothing like an old school, long discussion about rules and policies to wake you up.
“Rule number one, You are not to keep any foreign objects that you may find outside this ship-“
Turns out the second person he saw when he woke up was the captain. In this dim room Techno was standing in the back, arms folded because of how uncomfortable and oddly cold this packed room is.
“Rule number 2 when you have embarked, you must follow all protocols and if you don’t know what the protocol is then you may radio in with someone who does. Mainly, myself, George, Sapnap, Punz, Karl, or Sam.”
Technos eyes subconsciously dart around to all the fresh faces. All of them look like blue collar folks. People with bright futures and clean pasts... Unlike himself. They probably all want him dead. Buried in a forgettable ditch never to be seen again. He starts looking around more, tracing the crowd's features in his mind and naturally he peers to his left. A spike of adrenaline hits him like a truck when he sees a person that had to be at least 6’ 5” staring at him.
The eye contact is sending him into late stage rigor mortis. A person with a dirty blond mop that probably hasn’t been trimmed in months, eye bags as deep as the Mariana Trench, and lips that look like crinkled parchment is staring him down. It’s fair to say that Techno wasn’t expecting anyone to be looking back at him.
Wha—!? Look away you fool!
Internally slapping himself, Techno breaks the prolonged eye contact turning his head to stare at the floor. What came next sounded like a butterfly landing.
“H-hi.”
It’s true he heard something, but it was so faint he couldn't actually decipher it. So… not wanting to be rude he bends to the will of social pressure.
Oh my god, why am ah doin’ this? He prolly cussed me out or somethin’.
“What?” He said just above a whisper, hoping at the back of his mind that they wouldn’t say anything else and just leave it at that.
“I-I-I said hi…” The whisper is slightly louder than it was before.
God this ‘s so fuckin’ awkward.
“Oh.” Butterflies are licking the walls of his gut, making him almost want to puke.
Why ama even tryin’?
But either way Techno works up the courage for some reason or another. It’s like filling up a glass of water with the surface tension about to break free and spill everywhere.
“Hi……….My name‘s Technoblade. What's yours?” Techno gave into the pressure of his own mind telling him to be nice.
He didn’t have to do this with Niki, she just knew he wasn’t good with words. Which makes it so much easier to talk to people by the way. The first interaction they had was when he was semi-conscious and it went as follows.
“You seem to be doing better.”
“Yeah…”
“I’m glad. Just say the word if you need anything, you’ll probably need to rest for another day till you fully recover.”
“Okay.”
That was it.
And it was simple, easy, and god- Nothing like this.
“Ranboo.” Was all the man whispered in response to Technoblades query.
The hell kinda name s’that? Who named you??
But self reflection quickly reveals that he too has a strange name. And that maybe he shouldn’t make fun of someone for that.
Just a thought.
“-When coming across alien life forms you must be very careful as to not anger them. We don’t want to attract unwanted attention, so do be wary when using fire arms.”
Oh wait- shit- he was supposed to be paying attention wasn’t he.
“Always keep an eye on each others backs, you never know what can sneak up on you in dense woods.”
Dense woods huh?
He has never seen a full fledged forest before. The trees on earth are extremely scarce, and he’s only seen life on the outskirts of the city. But most of it is dry deserted land. So this is gonna be one hell of an experience.
“You all have a responsibility to look after each other. Understood? Because I don’t want any dead bodies on my conscience that I know could be avoided.”
There were a few nodding heads in the crowd.
“Good, now rule 7-“
Holy shit! How much’d I miss?
“You are to card in every time you enter or exit the building. If you do not then you will be reprimanded and punished.”
This guy’s rambling could put Techno to sleep. He has an interesting voice but he doesn’t use it. It’s like he was stripped bare of all emotion. Green eyes shoot straight through flesh like a laser beam pointed and precise, sweeping over the crowd.
Their gazes met each other for a moment, it felt foreboding. And Dreams' expression hardens to ice. The vibes Techno was getting from this guy were far from good. Something he has seen far too much of in his lifetime. A wolf in sheep's clothing.
It’s stressing him out. But the lecture goes off without a hitch other than the strange interaction with that Ranboo person.
An MK 18 mod 1 Carbine lays across his lap as he shifts uncomfortably in a cheap metal chair. This room was actually lit up unlike the last one, where the only light was only pointed at Dream. And again it’s cold. Why is it always cold?? Why can’t we get some heat up here?
“You are the outdoor team. You are to check the perimeter of the field every morning and evening to assure that nothing breaches this ship. If you are responsible for letting something in. You will be punished with no food for 3 days.”
The handful of 10 or 12 people sitting in this “class room” were murmuring about the idea of the punishment. When someone raises their hand.
“Yes Puffy?”
“Sir Hbomb what if someone has tried their very best but it just somehow gets through?”
“They will still get the punishment. It still applies even for that type of circumstance.”
Well that didn’ make the situation any better.
“Any more questions before we move on?”
You could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the loud ventilation shafts.
“Good. Now moving onto your weapon handling-“
This is all stuff that Techno has heard since he was a boy.
How to cock, reload, take apart, put back together, clean, aim, and fire to kill, with the safety off of course.
So he starts zoning out. Like waaaay out. The instructional speech was just flying over his head. As he stared at the pristine tiled floor. Vision blurry and unfixed letting his thoughts run.
This ‘s gonna suck isn’t it.
Imma have to go riskin’ my life for these fidiots if I wanna live.
It’s funny- the thing Techno swore to fight against, now has him on a lead. Doing whatever they want him to do.
God if only I didn’ spare ‘em. Then I wouldn't be in this mess.
It was just one person- one innocent person. That he didn’t have the heart to kill. It was the wrong place and the wrong time for him. Really unlucky. So he decided to take pity and let him go.
But he ended up tattling and Techno couldn’t get out of the clutches of the swat team quick enough. He didn’t even know the guy's name. But it wasn’t worth letting him live.
“Technoblade.”
Snapping out of the trance, HBomb was standing beside him, hands on his hips.
“Why don’t you take apart and put together that gun in your lap for all of us to see, huh?”
Technoblade’s stomach drops, the skin on his cheeks quickly flushing.
“Heh?” His throat feels like desert sand.
“You heard me. Get up and do it at the table. Seeing as you're too good to actually listen.” The man gestures to the plastic white table in the front of the room.
No. No way.
Techno shakes his head, the heat in his cheeks building. Sweat perspiring in the palms of his balled up hands.
Please don’t make me.
HBomb waits expectantly.
“Get up.”
Oh my god please… Don’t…
Techno ever so slowly shifts in the chair. Eyeing HBomb with a pleading glare. But he doesn’t budge. Staring back with only a cold callousness.
It takes so much energy to move his legs. And if people looked closely enough they could see his hands trembling. He kept his gaze low so he doesn't have to see the eyes on him. Though he can certianly feel them.
Just do it. Get it over with.
Even though his heart is throbbing out of his chest. He lays down the weapon on the table, closing his eyes. And begins gently tapping a count to 3 on his leg.
1…2…3
In a moment his eyes fling open, grabbing the weapon, pulling out the small tool in the handle and going to work.
There is a cacophony of clicking noises as he unlatches, unhooks, and unloads the gun all in one sitting. Setting it down for a second before picking it up again to slot it all back together perfectly just as it was created.
It’s easy, simple, like brushing your teeth or driving a car. And it was done in a matter of a minute and some seconds.
Thud
Technoblade gently smacks the complete gun on the table, a light sweat on his brow. He’s honestly surprised that he didn’t mess up halfway through because of how nervous he was. Darting his gaze over the small crowd. People are staring at him in awe. Even Hbomb is impressed, no matter how he tries to hide it he can see the slight raise in his brows and the quirk in his lip. Leaning off the wall he speaks, saying something Techno wasn’t expecting to hear.
“You all should learn from Technoblade.” Hbomb chuckles, slapping a hardy hand on his shoulder while passing the gun from the table into Technos hands.
“You're dismissed.” Letting him leave the anxiety of being in front of people he sped back to his seat. Ranboos' gaze following him like a curious dog from the little spot in the corner.
It tickles his ego to know that most if not all the people in that room couldn't do what he just did. Crossing pale arms over his chest he closes his eyes. Leaning back as he lets his nerves settle.
Anxiety is gently pouring over Technoblade’s shoulders like soft rain. As Hbomb starts exposing what needs to happen when they open the hatch. We are to march single file being sure to stay vigilant of anything that flies or crawls. We don’t know what’s out there. Which just makes it all that more scary. At Least on Earth he knew what he was getting into, but this-?
Cher-Chunk
The gate opens.
“GO, GO, GO- MOVE IT!”
People start pouring out. It became his turn quickly. Bright white light beaming in through the exit blinds him for a few seconds. Keeping the borrowed gun close to his chest. Tall grass shuffles around his shins. A thin layer of fabric is the only thing standing in its way of reaching skin.
As his eyes focus, the first thing that carved its way across his vision is a giant swath of trees. They tower over the ship like skyscrapers. With giant bushels of leaves, and a veiny stump. Thick Purplish brown bark shields the true wood from the elements.
Surveying the rest of their surroundings he slowly and methodically stalks further away from the gate. The woods are thick with wild fauna, able to support massive fungi the likes of which Techno could never conceivably imagine existing prior to today. In the distance there are giant patchs of moss growth consuming a fallen tree. Shrubs and bushes fill in the blank spaces. Flowery vines climb up other plants in competition for sunlight.
It’s beautiful. The land has left him awestruck in a way he hasn’t felt since he was a child.
A soft gust of wind brushes stray hairs away from Technos face as he settles down to plant a sigil into the earth. And looking back up something’s there A pair of distant blue orbs-? no— squinting a little harder they look more like…eyes? Giant and candencant under the shade which masked any and all other features about this entity.
It’s staring directly at him. The slope of the eyes slowly becoming uneven as its head tilts to one side. Almost as if it's confused or curious? That is a little too human for Techno's liking.
Paralysis is what it feels like as he sat in the tall grass unable to move a bone. Staring at this thing- whatever it was. It went on for a solid minute when all of a sudden something started crawling up his leg. Immediately breaking eye contact he looks down to find this 3 inch long red and black centipede looking thing, making its rounds over the fabric of his pants.
NOPE.
Swatting the massive bug off his leg he rushes to move away from the spot. The pair of eyes are no longer there. Which kinda freaks him out more.
‘Captain’ Hbomb could be heard not too far off at the entrance of the gate. Shouting an assortment of words that shorten to- ‘get your fugly asses over here, what’s taking y’all so long’
Running over to the rest of the group he debates about whether he should say something.
This shit was bound to happen, and it will probably happen on the regular. So what’s the point? It’s just gonna make him look like a pussy. So he sucks it up.
“Alright time to crank this-“ Hbomb grips a small device in his palm and with the other hand he brings it to life.
Rays of indigo light shoot up with the speed an arrow launching into the air. Cutting up anything and everything in its path. Whether that be rocks, roots, leaves, or the stiff ground, it sliced through it like butter. Accept it was rather loud, especially with all of it happening at the same time.
Stones shatter like bomb shells, wood snaps apart and the air shifts. Technoblade didn’t jump like everyone else however. He’s used to loud abrupt sounds. Seeing as his entire job used to revolve around meticulously placed C4 and noisy bombastic individuals.
After the dust settles and the barrier between us and the outside world is standing tall, Hbomb turns to the group.
“Everyone standing out here has the responsibility of patrolling this border every day, as I already said. So I have a schedule of people that will be set to come out here at different periods of time. It will be on the wall outside the gate, so be sure to check there every morning. Or memorize your schedule. There’s no excuse for tardiness or no shows.”
Pausing Hbomb surveys the gathered crowd
“For now, Bad and Ant will be taking the first shift.”
The two guys grumble about their circumstances. But if it were Technoblade he wouldn’t be complaining. Sure, the air burns a bit every time he breathes but it’s a hell of a lot better than being stuck inside.
“Dismissed, the rest of you may all return indoors.”
The hatch opens and they all have to crowd into this small intermediate room. They have three layers between the outdoors which he’s pretty sure is just standard layout. But it’s kinda funny to him.
The door to the outside closes behind them. Sanitized air shoots down on the huddled group, pressurizing the chamber. Technoblade just chuckles to himself about the idea of everyone being a germaphobe. The port to the different section opens up. With their indoor clothes awaiting them in yet another slightly bigger room.
Yeah.
They gotta change clothes every time they come in and out of the gate. Stupid in Techno’s humble opinion. But hey, what does he know about otherworldly bacteria?
Atleast they don’t have to wear hazmat suits.
Lunch time is… well lonely. Everyone’s already got their cliques. All accept Ranboo it seems. But he isn’t sitting next to him. He’s a few tables away. And one of them would have to work up the courage to awkwardly get up from where they were, walk over to the other person and ask whether they can sit with them or not.
Fuckin’ hate this.
Glancing over his shoulder, he wonders if the guy even wants to meet him. Their last interaction was so damn cringeworthy. Could they even hold a conversation with one another?
Scooping up of black beans he slips them into his mouth, staring at his plate in thought. He was kinda hunched over the table with the utensil gripped near his chin. Pink hair draping over the sides of his cheeks.
Mah hair looks like a fuckin’ wig, so brigh’.
Batting it out of his face he barely catches the scuff of shoes behind him. Turning his head a tall figure stood a little to his left.
“Hey- uhm… could I maybe…-?” He gestures to the seat next to Techno.
“Oh- yeah sure.” Scooting his chair a bit so Ranboo can fit. The man shuffles into the seat next to him.
“Thanks…” Is all the other man murmurs when he starts eating.
Well tha’ was easy.
But, after 1… 2…4…7 full minutes of silence he starts to regret thinking that. Within that silence were poor attempts to develop possible inquiries. But after a lot of thinking, one of the conversation starters stuck. It sounds kinda lame but it's all that he can think of.
“How’d you get to be on this assignmen’…?” Techno murmurs it so quietly he was afraid he wouldn’t hear the question.
But the hault in Ranboos hand as they were guiding a spoon to there lips says it all. An excruciatingly long pause followed before Ranboos' voice suddenly spluttered to life.
“I-I am here to help with o-organizing and p-p-prepping the food.” Ranboo says vaguely louder than Technoblade.
Okay. This person either has a studder or there really fucking nervous. Like- more nervous than Technoblade. Which is saying something.
“Oh-… tha’s pretty tight’ .”
Why’d ah say ‘tight’ oh god I’m already messing’ this up-
“My name is Technoblade-“
“I-I know… w-we already introduced our-s-selves.”
OH mah god I didn’ jus’ say tha’ again did I?
“Oh— righ’! Sorry, ah’m real bad at this.”
AGAIN!- Stop outin’ yourself!
Ranboo seems to snicker a bit at Techos poorly covered up self preservation. Which in turn makes Technos stomach flip enough to push red onto his face. Internally face palming at his stupidity.
Maybe he should have gone to school just for social practice. Maybe he would have a better capacity for making friends if he did. But instead of practicing on this person right next to him he just doesn’t say anything else. Both of them quietly ate next to each other for a stretch of what felt like twenty minutes but was probably only five.
“H-how did you g-get on thi-is mission?” Ranboo flips the same question on him. And oh boy, he’s not sure that he wants to tell him the real answer to that. Glancing at him ever so slightly Ranboo has this expression of patient curiosity, as there leaning over there own tray. They make eye contact for a second and only a second.
Should ah lie??
There’s another stretch of quiet before Techno finally answers.
“I…- This is a punishmen’ for meh technically.”
He can tell without even looking at Ranboo that there bewildered by what the hell that means.
“A-a punishment?” He reiterates, Techno can feel him lean in ever so slightly.
“Yeah…Ah was given an ultimatum.” The heat Techno is experiencing feels like scalding water poured onto his face. But hopefully it didn’t look like that on the outside.
Wha’s he gonna think when he figures out I’mma war criminal?
“T-that’s kinda i-intense”
“Well…Not really.”
“So y-you're not g-g-etting paid to b-be here?”
Oh wait- Am ah gettin’ stiffed? ah have no idea. But tha answer’s prolly yes.
“Prolly not.”
“I-Is that e-e-even legal?”
“Prolly not.”
Silence.
“S-so your b-basically a s-slave?”
He never really thought of it like that but, he wouldn’t consider himself sellable by any means. I mean Techno has literally been to that market before. Sure it was to trash the place and break the slaves free. But he knew a thing or two about it. You have to be healthy, have a clean record, and be strong enough that you can do labor, but weak enough to not fight back. And he would be one of the worst people for that position.
“I’m more of a jailbird tha’ does manual labor for punishmen’.”
“I-Isn’t that k-kind of the s-same thing?”
“Nah, because ah can leave once ah finish mah sen-ence, when yur a slave tha’s your life.”
Another lengthy pause and Techno realizes that he just had a full conversation with this person. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.