In short, the underground deal in the Abyss Nebula was done.
Though the raiders had boarded the ship, that didn't mean they had truly escaped death. Over the next few months, their new "masters" would single out those who had killed too much, tortured others for fun, or even relished cannibalism, as well as anyone on a wanted list, and butcher them like livestock. Those who passed these screenings might be scattered among factories in any corner of the galaxy, turned into human production machines.
But if these prisoners of war—who could hardly be called "people"—had fallen into the hands of any nation's military, more than half of them would have died before reaching a labor camp. Now, as long as their sins weren't too grave to pass the screening, they at least had a chance to live—and might even survive for a few more years.
People were always saying, "Better death than a life without freedom," but most ordinary folk still believed that "a bad life is better than a good death."
For the Toth Trading Company, the influx of so many captured raiders into the labor market meant more than just economic gains. The intangible prestige alone would give them far more room to maneuver in the Abyss Nebula.
After all, this was an "uncivilized land" occupied by outlaws, where might made right. And what could represent strength better than possessing tens of thousands of captured raiders?
...Well, there was one thing, of course: the scarlet dreadnought now in Yu Lian's hands. It was ugly, and its green, wasteland-raider aesthetic was overwhelming, but it was still a state-of-the-art dreadnought, and many of its vital systems were brand new.
Now that the prisoners had disembarked, almost all the security risks aboard the ship were gone. The hull had also