Page 96 of Aria's Ascension

After deeming them capable, she sent them out to see what people in the city were saying about them, look for escaped slaves to bring back, and to evaluate the layout, defenses, and security of the nearby arenas and pleasure lounges.

With new slaves showing up and plans to have a large influx of new people soon, Aria found a female who’d been her planet’s equivalent of a foreman to oversee the construction of new housing in the arena.

She’d intended it to be for the newcomers, but as soon as a house was finished, there were people lining up to move in. She couldn’t blame them. Living in the complex with a couple hundred other people was hard, even for her, and her rooms were away from everyone else’s.

She also learned there were a hell of a lot of people who were perfectly happy roughing it. She offered to have houses built for them, as well, but almost all of them declined. Perhaps unsurprisingly, most came from less-developed planets, though there were a few from advanced worlds who she guessed just really liked camping.

Once people caught on to the fact that they could move out if they wanted and lay claim to a plot of land, there was a mad dash to do so. Almost overnight, villages popped up, gardens, stone-working shops, metal shops, and a dozen other things she hadn’t thought to offer appeared in the arena.

The villages could prove problematic if someone started getting greedy about land, but it actually helped everyone get along knowing they could go home at night to a house of their own, surrounded by like-minded people.

That wasn’t to say everyone got along all the time, though.

She, her mates, or one of her Generals—what she’d dubbed her proxies—still had to step in and squash the occasional squabble, a few outright fistfights, and one aerial battle. But, she did her best to keep everyone busy and tried to be understanding. These people were going through one hell of an adjustment. It would take time for everyone to get used to their new reality. Having a common enemy, a mission to focus on, and houses to tend to helped a hell of a lot.

Another week passed,during which time her covert team fed her enough information that she began making plans of attack to take over the next closest arena.

The plan was to bring all the slaves and prisoners back to the complex, haul out everything of use, but leave the building itself intact, so as to not tip off the other Overlords that they were coming for them. Besides, she needed more space than this arena offered.

Kix brought up a good point during that meeting. They needed to have a plan for the guards, Overlords, and masters that didn’t include killing them all. If the Federation ever showed up, they needed to give them as little reason as possible to throw them in prison, execute them, or return them to slavery.

Aria didn’t love it, but she saw his point.

The fact that her first solutionhadbeen to kill them all, brought to light exactly how much she’d changed since her days as an FBI agent. Life as a gladiator on an alien planet did strange things to a person. Namely, making them quick to kill the people responsible for turning them into a murderer. Ironic, perhaps, but still true.

What surprised her was that she didn’t especially mind the change. She was sure that had a lot to do with her other half blending and merging with her, and the loving acceptance of her mates, but whatever the reason, she was adapting well to this world and its rules. She had to, if she had any hope of succeeding in the mission to which she’d appointed herself.

It did no one any good if she tried to hold on to the laws of Earth, and she wouldn’t be able to protect any of these people if she tried to pretend that someone with the power to pass judgement was going to come along after her and take care of the bad guys.

Aria hadn’t lost her moral compass, it was just pointing to a different north, one that included doing whatever it took to protect the weak and vulnerable from those who would hurt them.

Talking about stasis brought to mind something she’d been putting off, but the time for hoping someone would magically come to her with an answer was past, so she’d sought out Lilac.

She’d, predictably, found them in the labs.

Unpredictably, Lilac’s solution to what Aria expected to be a monumental problem was actually quite simple.

They’d cocked their head as though they didn’t understand why she was so worried.

“Zhrovni programmed the clone bodies to live for roughly ten of what you understand to be years. They can be reprogrammed to live longer.”

“What about the original bodies? And those of us living in clones with an expiration date?”

“We will replace the original bodies with new, longer-lived clones and transfer you into new bodies, as well.”

“Will we notice a difference after we’re… transferred?” she’d asked, cringing at the damned unnerving prospect of body-swapping.

Amusement brushed over her mind as Lilac answered,“None at all. You have been through such procedures many times.”

While Aria was extremely relieved to know people weren’t going to suddenly drop dead when their clone bodies ran out of time, Lilac’s words presented her with a different problem.

How long should they program the clones to live?

Of course people, both gladiators and ship survivors, could always elect to transfer into a new body if theirs got injured or too old, but for those that didn't want to live essentially forever, how long should the standard lifespan be?

She’d held a meeting with the gladiators first to get opinions, but everyone's answer was different. Same thing when she called a meeting with the entire population.

In the end, it was Rellik that offered the solution to pick the longest, so no one was cheated of years they would normally expect to live. Those who usually lived for a shorter time could opt for what was essentially euthanisia when they were done. It wasn't perfect, but she agreed that it was the best they could do.

---