Someone who worked for Norix and was a Whisperer, at the end of the Standard Year, who really needs that job.
They’re a Queen fan and don’t know why they’re a Whisperer.
"Please… please don’t let me go. I can change the song. I’ve been working on it. I have. I love Under Pressure. I just… don’t… understand… why I keep singing Ice Ice Baby."
Nor looked down on the pleading ape. Lucy. There was a thin veneer of civilisation between this deathworlder and literally tearing Norix apart in cognicidal[1] rage. Norix was endlessly shocked at how strong that thin veneer was. A being who could quite literally tear most of Norix’s processing facility to expensive pieces had put herself in a submissive position to a level 2 Havenworlder who was a tiny fraction over half her height.
"I understand your problem," soothed Norix. "Can you understand mine? You are a brutal people. This facility cannot withstand fights amongst your kind."
"I know. I listen to Under Pressure every morning… and in the shower. I’m trying to train my traitor brain. Please. I need the Time."
Norix pondered the begging human. Three steps away from being an utter monster… and yet performing a display of abject weakness. "Familial obligations?"
"I’m trying to export my mother from Greater Deregulation West."
Ah. The people who had sold this human to Norix for a one-off payment. Who had, in fact, sold an entire, crammed shipload of humans to Norix for what they imagined to be a profit in useless gold. The humans under her care had been shocked and amazed that they were being paid. And many were using this advantage to buy their family.
At least until Greater Deregulation West had realised that Time was where the real money was at, and effectively shut down the population drain.
"I can petition Cogniscent Rights on your behalf," offered Norix. "And I know some associates who will… hire… Whisperers like yourself."
Lucy breathed out in a relieved sob, almost collapsing on the floor. "…thank you…"
"I shall give you a glowing recommendation," added Norix. "And excise negative remarks about your singing habits."
Sobbing. "How can I repay you?"
"Live well," she said, "and get as many as you can the hell out of Greater Deregulation West."
[1] Well it can’t exactly be _hom_icide, can it?