Prison Pit
- Characters
- Prison Library
- Logs 1
- Logs 2
- Jailbreak
|
|
main road, odegra, 02:20 local time 111/1106
 |
The crawler rumbled onwards, the never-ending clatter from the tracks working its' way into everyone's brain. Manx sat in the front with Taxi, rocking gently from side to side with the movement. Suddenly he sat forward, staring inently into the darkness. Ahead, a pale green glow had appeared through the trees. "Stop!" he cried, and Taxi stamped on the brakes. "Kill the lights," he said more quietly, as the others came forward to examine what had prompted the sudden halt.
As far as they could see to left and right, a failntly luminous cloud of pale green mist was roiling and swirling through the trees and undergrowth. It seemed to be moving north across the road at an angle, with the net result that it was also approaching them as they sat looking at it.
"Minion," said Alice, "please list the native life-forms that can produce large patches of green, luminous mist?" After a moment, Minion replied "I don't have sensors that can detect it, can you describe this mist please?" Alice did so, and Minion presented a list of four species of fungi and three of fish that could produce a glow in the visual spectrum, none of which could cover as large an area as this. Gripper rummaged through the locker's collection of science instruments until he found a hand-held radiation sensor, which he pointed forward through the crawler's windscreen. Instantly, several of the readouts flickered and rose into the danger range, showing more than one form of lethally high radiation being emitted by the mystery cloud. "Minion...." said Alice slowly and dangerously, "what did you forget to mention?" The computer sounded slightly miffed. "This is not the product of native flora or fauna," it said primly. "Cool caves in radioactive rocks surrounded by thick jungle produce these mist clouds saturated with radioactive dust."
They considered calling the spaceport for advice, but in the end decided simply to drive away from it, back the way they'd come, staying ahead of it until it passed by to the north. "Back up, Taxi," instructed Manx. The getaway driver hesitated. "I'd rather turn round and go forwards, guv," he protested, "I don't want to back over a stump or somefink and get stuck wiv that thing following us!" Manx waved a hand in impatient acquiescence and the driver spun the vehicle around and headed off at a slightly higher speed than the oncoming mist. "Bloody taxi drivers," muttered the preacher. "I 'ate customers who can't make their minds up where they're going," shot back Taxi. "Don't expect a tip, unless it's hollow-point!" rejoined Manx.
main road, odegra, 04:20 local time 111/1106
Finally, after two hours of keeping just ahead of it, the mist began to thin and the crawler stopped. The last strands drifted across the road, and the red tell-tales on the rad sensor faded to amber and then green. "Better make another call to the spaceport, Manx," suggested Martha, "tell them we've been delayed by fog." Manx grimaced - he was beginning to dread his radio performances. "You'll be fine with this one," she pointed out, "it's all true after all!"
 |
Nevertheless, when Manx accepted the mike from Hurker's sweaty hand, everything went out of his head and he coughed, spluttered and cut the transmission. After a moment, he gathered his thoughts and tried again, apologizing for 'dropping the mike when we hit a bump'. The spaceport noted his report of a rad-cloud calmly; such things were not uncommon, apparently.
Rallying from his earlier blunder, Manx had a rather brilliant thought. "Rather than us looking for a landing spot," he said into the mike, "Why don't you send the shuttle up now to look for one from the air and land there to wait for us? We've lost two hours now, and anything that'll speed the process may spell the difference between life and death!" A few minutes later, Odegra Down Flight Control called back to advise that shuttle Curly was airborne in their direction.Half an hour later, copilot Jordan of the shuttle Curly called them to advise that they'd located a suitable flat spot in the foothills of the Kortagor mountains, only yards from the road, and were landing. "There's a scatter of little rocks and bushes, and some moderately scary beasties," he chuckled, "but nothing serious - no gilasaurs!" He gave their position, and the crawler's nav system informed them they were about 75 miles away - an hour and a half, assuming nothing else nasty happened. "OK," said Gripper. "Once we're half an hour out, I'll dose my 'casualties', and by the time we get to the RV they'll be nicely contagious-looking."
"It'd be good if we could carry on the deception all the way to the starport," commented Alice. She considered, then placed a call to the shuttle crew. "Shuttle Curly, this is Dr Lyn Heggie from the Science base. We don't want to risk contagion when you pick us up, have your cargo bay doors open and we'll drive the crawler in. Then you can drop us on the starport and we'll drive into the starship." The voice on the other end was dry. "And you're really going to commandeer the Exismolia to jump empty just for a few poorly techies?" he asked. "Yes - they cost a lot to train, these scientists," replied Alice. "OK! You can explain it to the Maximillian honchos!" She clicked the mike off and sat back. All set up - or so it seemed.
 |
A few minutes later, the ether crackled to a new voice - one with which the cons were all unpleasantly familiar; Sergeant Bleacher. "Warden Sergeant Bleacher to Odegra Down, Prison Pit. I've been trying to raise the science base, but there's no answer. Egghead idiots probably forgot how to use the radio again, but I’ve got to check it out,” he snarled. “I’m sending a crawler." The cons looked at each other in horror, the picture of a cupboard full of scientists and dead corptroopers flashing across their minds. Alice grabbed the mike. "This is Dr Heggie from the Science Base, Sergeant. What's going on here?" "I'm in charge of security here," replied Bleacher crisply. "If something unusual happens I have to check it out." Alice spoke a little louder. "Haven't you been following what's been going on?" she asked. "There's a potentially contagious infection loose. Don't send anyone anywhere near the Science base, please; it's not safe!" Bleacher proved he had been listening. "Wasn't it picked up in the jungle way out to the east?" he asked suspiciously. "You haven't been back; why should it have made the Egghead Base go quiet?" Alice floundered. "We presumed..." she began. Bleacher cut her off. "You guessed!" he snapped. "I'm sending a crawler." Alice decided not to press it. "Do you have a medic to send? A real one, not a bullet-digger?" Bleacher sneered. "Yes, I-have-a-medic!" he ground out. "Ask them to report to me," said Alice and clicked off. "This could be bad," she said.
 |
Martha reached past her and picked up the mike. "Sergeant?" she said briskly. "This is Maximillian corptrooper Kensington calling from the science base." She'd read the name off her ID badge, and was praying that Bleacher wasn't familiar enough with the corptroopers to know that 'W. Kensington' (now deceased) had actually been 'William'. "What do you want - and why have you waited this long tp pipe up?" said Bleacher, although his tone was far less abrasive. Martha smiled slightly; her guess had been right, Bleacher was outranked by Maximillian security.
 |
"You will not send a crawler," she rapped. "There has been an outbreak of something damned contagious here, and I have locked down the base. If any of your slavedrivers show up here they will be fired on." Bleacher spluttered, but it was clear he wasn't supposed to argue with this. "Where's Captain Harzi?" he demanded, naming one of the corptroopers Alice and Martha had killed in their beds. "He's ill." said Martha flatly. "Have it your way," grumbled Bleacher, giving way.
Alice waited a couple of minutes, then 'transmitted' a call enquiring about her colleauges' welfare, which Martha followed up with a 'response' confirming that ten cases had been isolated and as far as she could tell the infection was contained.
Bleacher remained quiet; but everyone there knew what he was like. Aggressive, arrogant and a control freak, he was unlikely to remain balked for long.
Kortagor Mountain Foothills, Odegra, 04:50 local time 111/1106
An hour or so later Gripper picked up his medical kit, ready to produce his 'patients' but there was some doubt now over the details of the plan. "We may need all the combatants we can get," said Alice. "How long for the effects to kick in?" asked Manx. "'bout ten minutes," said Gripper. "Leave it then," suggested Alice. If we get the crawler into the shuttle, we can do it then and stall until they're ready."
Kortagor mountain foothills, odegra, 05:10 local time 111/1106
 |
The crawler rolled up a short slope and emerged onto a flattish plain, dotted with loose rocks and scrubby bushes. Parked in the middle, spilling light onto the ground, was a large winged spaceship, its' cargo bay door lowered to form a ramp - Curly, the sister shuttle to the ill-fated Moe. At the foot of the ramp stood four men in warden uniforms with rifles, one man in a crewer's coverall and a woman in a white coat - obviously the spaceport doctor. The reason for the guards was obvious; four dead animals lay nearby, creatures resembling wolves but with hard bony armour on their heads and shoulders and the size of a small pony. Without hesitation, Taxi guided the vehicle up to the shuttle and up the ramp into the red-lit cargo bay. Behind them, the ramp began to lift.
Gripper paused for a moment. "Do you think any of them will remember us?" he asked. Martha chuckled. "From four years ago? I doubt it. We've all changed a bit since then. You better keep your hat on though; that tattoo's a bit distinctive." Gripper nodded. "Shall I inject the 'patients' now then?" he asked. "Hold off," said Alice, and keyed the mike through to the vehicle's external PA, addressing the guards and doctor, Kimii Mruaak, who were waiting expectantly outside thecrawler's the back door. "You'd better evacuate the bay, to be safe," she instructed. The doctor's head came up. "It's that bad, then?" she asked worriedly. "OK - we'll suit up and be back. I've prepped six low pods." "Can you get them down into the hold?" asked Alice. "No," answered Kimii, "there's only an iris valve into the ship from here." She waved reassuringly to Alice and Manx through the front windows and climbed up out of the hold as a faint lurch and drone of engines told the cons the shuttle was in the air.
 |
.JPG) |
"OK, Gripper," said Alice, "Time for some poorly people." Gripper unpacked his drugs and turned to Slippers and Spanners, neither of whom appeared delighted with the plan, but with Martha standing casually nearby they weren't about to protest too loudly. Stripped to their shorts they were bundled into bedrolls and injected with Gripper's cocktail of chemicals. Maybe it was only fear, but they began to look ill almost immediately.
Alice patched through to Curly's intercom. "What's our ETA to the Century Moon?" she asked. Co-pilot Jordan responded, "Around six hours," he said, "we're around midpoint for orbital distance." The faint rushing sound conducted through the shuttle's hull faded as it cleared the last traces of atmosphere into space, and the cons looked at each other. They had achieved the impossible; they had escaped from the prison planet Odegra. Now all they had to do was stay free...
high orbit, Shendgor (Garian IIIb), 11:30 shipboard time 111/1106
Shendgor (Garian IIIb) Koutala/Flavin/Menkor Shendgor is Garian IIIb, the next satellite out from Ogdegra in orbit around the gas giant Koutala. It has a similar atmosphere to Odegra but far more water and no native life. The system's starport is located here, with shuttles transferring goods and people to and from the prison world. - IISS Imperial Survey Data |
 |
Six hours later, Curly entered Shendgor's atmosphere and began its' descent towards the starport. Minion had provided a layout of the port, and the feed he arranged from Curly's sensors filled in the current details. The starport was built on a small, domed island, in an artificial crater like the spaceport on Odegra, only larger. The control tower was perched on the lip of the crater. Four double laser turrets on the rim plus one on the terminal building guarded the approach. Air and water ports provided transit to the other populated areas of Shendgor and were connected to the ‘port by monorails.
Resuming her persona as the science base doctor Lyn Heggie, Alice got herself patched through to the starship Exismolia, currently docked on one of the landing pads and awaiting shuttles full of valuable ore to ship back the way she'd come. The crew were already aware that their routine was being altered for this emergency, and were relaxed enough about it; they were paid per Jump so it didn't bother them if Management made changes to what they carried. Alice requested that they open the bow doors to allow them to drive the crawler straight aboard, and to have a dozen of the modular low berths set up in the hold ready for the 'casualties' to be frozen. The hold was to be sealed for the flight, preventing any contamination of the crew.
Kimii Mruaak chipped in at that point, to add that she would be travelling in the hold with the science base personnel, to assist with the cryogenics. Supervising the unfreezing of new prisoners was a regular part of her job in any event, and she was an expert on the technology. Alice warned her that once she was in with them, she wouldn't be let out; she seemed untroubled. "I'll walk to the ship while you drive," she said.
Hurker clicked the radio back to the standard channels, and his oily face went pale. "I think you need to hear this," he muttered, and fed the transmission to the speakers. Bleacher's voice rang out, loud with self-justification. He'd sent a crawler to the science base after all, and far from being fired on, there seemed to be no-one there to pay it any attention at all. "Looks like there's no-one here," he barked. "I'm going to send a team in to investigate, I smell something fishy here! I'm sending a team in."
Alice picked up the microphone. "That's the last thing you should do," she said firmly, "and probably would be." Bleacher, however, was not going to be dissuaded this time. "I acknowledge your medical advice, Dr Heggie," he said cuttingly. "But this is a security matter." Alice spoke again. "Medical Override Panzer Guacamole Vista," she concluded, invoking one of the security codes obtained from Pinkus' computer. There was a moment of silence, then an incoherent growl from Bleacher. "Very well, then" he grumbled.
Shendgor down, Shendgor (Garian IIIb), 11:59 local time 111/1106
 |
Curly touched down on the empty pad between the third shuttle Larry and the Exismolia. The latter was a standard-looking subsidized merchant, Type R, a starship of 400 displacement tons so common that almost any Imperial starport you went to would have a couple docked at any given time.This vessel had evidently had a hard life; battered, rusty in places; it was, nevertheless, as Alice commented under her breath, the most beautiful thing any of them had ever seen.
The ramp went down, and Taxi had the crawler cautiously out and onto the landing pad. The areas between the pads looked navigable for a tracked vehicle, rough laser-cut stone, and so he set out to drive at a careful pace between the two pads. Several dozen men in starport security uniforms stood in a rough cordon around the two pads, but their purpose appeared to be to keep the curious away rather than impede the crawler.
 |
Bleacher's voice blasted from the speakers; but he wasn't speaking to "Dr Lyn Heggie". He was transmitting directly to the starport manager on Shendgor. "This is Warden Sergeant Bleacher," he announced. "I've investigated the lack of response from the science base and found ... inconsistencies. I don't quite know what's going on yet, but I demand that you implement a system-wide Status 2 lockdown." An angry voice replied instantly. "Who the hell are you to demand a Level 2 Lockdown? Only the Governor has that authority. Transmit your authorization code immediately, or go away and stop wasting my time!" The code, of course, was in the Governer's handcomp in Alice's pocket, which didn't do Bleacher's temper any good. Taxi Ardan didn't need Alice's surreptitious nudge; he shoved the throttles forwards and the crawler accelerated slightly, closing the distance to the waiting starship without giving the appearance of rushing.
 |
A man, presumably the cargomaster, was standing next to the open doors, and Alice gave him a wave far more cheery than she felt. Sweat beaded on all their faces now; if Bleacher persuaded the SPA to stop the Exismolia from taking off, they were staked out to dry. With what seemed agonizing slowness, the crawler rolled up the ramp and bumped to a halt inside the empty, cavernous hold of the starship. As the doors began to close, Alice and Manx noted a row of modular low berths hastily nail-gunned to the deck just ahead, and two cargo handling robots sulking in a corner. The interior of the hold was covered in dirt, grime, rust and powdered rock from the ore shipments it usually carried. The whole thing carried an air of worn-out low-tech, but no one cared tuppence for that as long as it flew. As they watched, Kimii Mruaak jogged past the crawler to the low pods and started examining their controls. Alice called the starship's captain. "All aboard," she reported, "let's go!"
The argument between Bleacher and the Starport Authority was still going on over the radio, and Hurker turned the volume down to prevent his yelling from blowing the speakers. His attitude plus the needs of a medical emergency were carrying the day, and all this time Captain Bailey was running through his preflight checks and lighting up the starship's ageing systems. The ship lifted, and Bleacher went quiet. Don't tell me he's given up? thought the cons. He had, it seemed, simply stopped to listen to a report come in. When he came on again he was nearly hysterical. "There has been a massive accident at the Prison!" he screamed, "The shuttle that's supposed to be safely down in the jungle has crashed into it!! Everyone's dead by the look of it, but there may be cons loose! Stop that fucking ship taking off!!" Captain Bailey's voice came over the ship intercom. "If anyone sounds like he should be locked up it's him," he commented cheerfully, "what a nutter."
The calm voice from Shendgor Down came over the radio again. "Sergeant," it said with heavy emphasis, "You don't have any authorization codes, and your wild story conflicts directly with that of other persons who do have codes who out-rank you. Unless your superior responds with proper authorization, I'm not accepting any instructions from you. Out." Gripper blew out a sigh. "Thank God for the SPA!" he said sincerely. "We should have kept up the 'calls from the Prison' though, shouldn't we?"
100 diameters above shendgor, 15:06 shipboard time 111/1106
Four hours later, the ship was sufficiently far from the Century Moon's gravity well for a safe Jump. Bailey's voice came over the intercom. "We will be making the Jump to Bucroth in ten minutes. Please secure for Jump." A few minutes later, all the internal lighting in the Exismolia dimmed - causing the cons to glance at each other; who still honours that ancient superstition? they thought. Then the peculiar little internal wrench alerted them to the transition to Jumpspace - and they were away.
Alice's voice echoed through the empty hold from the tannoy, jerking Kimii Mruaak awake from where she'd been dozing on a crate. "Doctor? We've a confession to make..."
 |
 |
 |