Freedom fighters were happy to hear about rampant abolitionists on the edge of the empire, only to be shocked when their military stayed on the border. It wasn't until a man came to meet with a group of the resistance for them to understand it wasn't enough for full-scale military action.
The airfield was an emergency space shuttle landing zone. It was the perfect place for a clandestine landing.
The Taurus organizers of the Unpaid Unappreciated Committee watched the alien shuttle come down. It unfolded legs like a spider and made a suicide burn, jamming the engines to maximum before they hit the ground. It cooked the soil underneath. A hatch opened mere seconds later, and a figure jumped out.
"Primitive thing, isn't it?" Navar muttered.
"Yeah, maybe that's why they don't understand," grunted Zektan.
"Quiet," said supervisor Kenet. She waved at the approaching human, "You're the representative?"
"You're the workers?"
"Yep!" Kenet grinned, without showing teeth. It unsettled humans, so she heard. The human approached, carrying a duffel on his shoulder. "You're here to liberate us?" "In a manner of speaking," the man said. He looked at each of their alien Taurus faces, taking in their distinct tusks.
"You hear to explain why you aren't bombing the crap out of the bosses?" Zektan said. "We were a little shocked when your ships turned around," Navar said. "And your shuttle is a little small for weapons."
"I'm not military. I'm a union man. Mr Hill, at your service," He said proudly. "Well, Mr Hill, we've got a lot of work to do. We need to designate targets for you immediately. You've gotta convince your senate that we need help over here!" Zektan said.
"Zektan!" Kenet snapped, "But he's right. We're in need of liberation here." Mr Hill sighed. "Alright. Why don't we go see the rest of your group, and we'll see what I can do."
The cluster of sentients went to the airfield's main building. The rest of the Unpaid Unappreciated Committee was clustered inside. "This is our general leadership and common folk," Kenet said, "We ban together for mutual aid and so we can pool our resources."
There were greetings and introductions. Then Mr Hill went to work. "I want to speak with the least fortunate among you."
Kenet nodded. They brought out a group of Taurus reliant on the committee for aid. Mr Hill looked over the crowd with a sad, empathetic expression. He found a Taurus who couldn't stop shaking, even at rest. "What's with you?"
"C-c-can't a-a-afford wasting blood m-m-medication," She said.
Mr Hill grimaced. Another Taurus was filthy, and looked like he had a skin condition. "And you?"
"Been living in the gutter for a year. I lost my apartment because I couldn't afford to pay to open my door. I left all my work stuff in there, so I lost my job. I lost everything." He scowled. "I have a job lifting boxes now. I'm a slave." He looked around, "If it weren't for the Committee here, I'd be dead."
Mr Hill nodded, "I'm sorry."
A third testimonial came forward. "I can't eat regularly, not until the Committee came along. I'm...I'm... I'm a server at a restaurant. I had to flirt with the cooks to get food before this!" She wiped away tears, "I don't even get paid enough to survive! I'm just a slave to them!"
Mr Hill put a hand on her shoulder, and muttered words of comfort. Kenet and Navar looked at each other. They rearranged the group to put the worst cases forward. "I couldn't afford to take care of my child."
"I lost my leg because I couldn't afford to pay."
"They took my home when my husband died. They said it all belonged to the company."
"They pay us based on the weight of the cars full of ore, but they don't even measure them properly! They undersell them so they don't have to pay us!"
"My children have to work so we can afford a home!"
on and on it went. Mr Hill personally interviewed all of them, taking careful notes. Kenet suspected he was recording them with a camera. She noted his fury grow, but it didn't match the reputation of the Terrans. What was going on?
Finally, the interviews ended. Zektan looked smug. "Well then, Mr terran. Are you satisfied?"
The man sighed, and closed his note pad. "Yeah. It's not technically slavery, but it's close enough."
"So when is the strike?" Kenet asked.
"Define strike."
"When are you bombing?" Zektan demanded. "Where's your troops? Where's your fleet?"
"They're not coming. At least, not yet." He looked around, "Tell me, everyone. Do you have the right to freedom of movement?"
"If you can afford it," Kenet scoffed. She gestured to herself and the other two organizers, "We're the only ones rich enough to afford it."
Something flashed in Mr Hill's eyes. "Rich?"
"We're not bosses. I'm a doctor, Zektan is a lawyer, and Navar is a computer programmer." Kenet gestured around, "We've been pooling our funds to help the others." "Then you're halfway out of the dark," Mr Hill said. "I don't fear people starving in garrets, I fear lawyers starving in them."
"Excuse me?"
Mr Hill scratched his chin. "You're not slaves," He said, raising his voice a bit, and looked around, "Not proper ones. But you are a type of slave."
"What do you mean?" Zektan demanded, "You heard everyone! It's expensive to be poor! I can't begin to count how many houses I've had to open because they can't afford to do it themselves!"
"You're not chattle slaves," Mr Hill said. "They don't have papers that literally say they own you. As far as the bosses are concerned, you should work. And be grateful for it."
"Then what is the problem? What's slavery on your world?" Zektan demanded.
Hill rubbed his eyes, "It's death. Denial of rights, of even the right to be human. Here..." He gestured, "The bosses think you'll be satisfied with this..." He paused, "And they're right."
There were a bunch of jeers and shouts. Kenet whistled loudly to get them to shut up. "What do you mean, Mr Hill?" She said.
"On my world, there were people so devoted to slavery that they were willing to kill in its defense. And it was the worst kind of slavery. Abuse, murder, to be considered another human beings property." He looked around, "Yes, that is what slavery is. To be owned."
"But how is that different from what we have?" Kenet growled.
"The bosses live in a different world from you," Hill said slowly, "They don't realize you have to pay to open doors. They don't know about rationing medicine. They don't know about any of this. Or if they do, they don't give a damn. They think that because they don't literally own you, that it's a free country-- er, planet." He gestured, "Think about it! If you have enough money, you can live fine! There's no blood to it, no divine right of kings!"
"Sounds like you want us to sympathize with them," Zektan grunted.
"I'm saying to see them as people. Not to take away their crimes, but to know that we are all equally capable of this great evil." Hill sat down at a table. He poured himself a drink from a thermos in his bag. "Wage slavery is real. Don't get me wrong. But you have a problem."
"And what's that?" Kenet asked.
Hill drank. "They're like you. So that means everyone between us and them will dig their heels in to fight." He leaned back, "See, in a system with flaws like this, you give certain quantities of people certain privileges, and you don't push them too hard, they'll take anything. And they'll dig their heels in to defend it." He sighed, "See, if we rolled in, your people wouldn't rise up to overthrow your government. They'd fight to defend it because it's all they've known. Your people will think it's better than nothing."
"And so you're going to do nothing," Zektan said, "Alright, let's just kill him."
"I didn't say that." Hill said. "We are going to strike."
"Then what--"
"You are going to strike," Hill said. The room was silent. "Don't your people know how to organize?"
Kenet frowned. "Huh?"
"That's what I'm here for. I'm a union man." Hill grinned. The room stirred. Had they heard the word correctly? "Now, before you start to panic, a union ain't more than what we've got right here."
"A union? Oh, fuck you," Zektan snarled.
"It's a feather bed for useless workers," Navar said, as if reading a dictionary.
"Then can you explain to me what it is?"
"It's a mutinous concept designed to keep good workers down," Kenet said slowly, "What's that got to do with--?"
Hill hadn't stirred. He gestured around, "People talk about it like it's some nebulous entity, but that isn't what it is." He looked at each of them, "Can you explain what exactly it is?" The others were silent. "You can't, can you?" he sipped more of his drink, "A democracy is a group of people gathering collectively to vote on something. A union is collective bargaining. Now, what's the difference there?"
"Bullshit," Zektan snarled.
"Forget the word. Collectively joining together for common defense and bargaining. Sounds an awful lot like democracy, right?" Then Hill smiled, and waved around, "...and like what you've got here."
"But we--"
"You've got union dues. I presume you have an expected donations box? Almost like... dues you might say. That's called 'pooling resources'." Zektan was silent. "So. What's so bad about a union aside from the word itself?" The others looked at one another, in confusion and mild disgust.
"What are you getting at?" Kenet asked in confusion.
"I'm saying you've got the idea, but you've gotta go further." He looked at her, "You are a union. But you gotta go further." He took out his data pad, "You've gotta organize, and you've got to go on strike."
"We can't do that!"
"What will this do to our jobs?"
"Listen!" Hill barked. "You're the ones who run your jobs! You're the people who move their vehicles, run their economy! It is we who plowed the prairies, built the cities where they trade! You dug the mines and built the workshops! And now stand outcast and starving midst the wonders you have made."
"But we're not starving!" Zektan exclaimed.
"How about medicine? How about the flirting for food? Look at what's in front of you!" Hill rose to his feet, "You've gotta tell them you aren't gonna take it anymore! If you fight openly, they'll resist! You have to persuade them by taking it into your own hands!"
Kenet frowned. "He's right."
Two more workers rose up, "Yeah! Without us, the store won't run!"
The shaking Taurus staggered to his feet, "W-w-without me, the pharmacy wouldn't run."
"Without me, the restaurant would stop," The restaurant server squeaked.
More and more workers rose up. "Yes!" Hill cried. He climbed on the table, "You don't work for them, you give your time as a privilege to them! They're lucky to be where they are! Without you, they're nothing!"
"So what's next?" Navar asked.
"We'll organize everyone we can. Then we'll spread the word. There's already others doing this job!"
"So why can't you fight?" Zektan shouted.
Hill tilted his head. "Because even you are resisting me, that's why," He gestured around, "See this crowd? I mention one word and suddenly you're against them. Because I threatened to disrupt the status quo." The crowd shifted. Zektan took a step back in fear.
"Get him!"
In a flash, Mr Hill hopped off the table and rushed up to stand beside him, "...but I won't let them hurt you, Mr Zektan." He looked around, "Fellow workers, this is about getting rid of the boots on our necks, not simply changing the laces!"
"But he's one of them!"
"He's a sapient being," Hill growled. "Wage slavery isn't easy to fight. Not as easy as chattel slavery." He put an arm around Zektan, "The system of chattel slavery is insidious enough, but Wage slavery is worse. It makes even you all defend it." He put himself between the crowd and Zektan, "Understand. We must fight, but not with guns. We must spread the word and persuade." He put his fist in the air, "Workers of the galaxy unite! You have nothing to lose but your chains!"
There was a ragged cheer that grew into a full blown celebration. Under the waves of sound, Zektan mumbled, "Thanks, Mr Hill."
The union man grinned, "Thanks. Call me Joe."