Perils of Indifference
- Thread starter Carya Laciniosa
- Start date
- Original Mature Sci-Fi
-
- Tags
- original
- Location
- Ohio
- Pronouns
- They/Them
You approach the door into the bedroom, speaking as you go. "Do you know anything about the other prisoners?"
"Well, they must all be connected to the warehouse fire in one way or another. I heard a few of them shouting when they were brought past the room, but I haven't actually seen any of them. Maybe we will when they come take us for questioning."
The bedroom is as sparsely decorated as the rest of the interior. The blankets on the bed are thin and the pillows flat, the cots similarly spartan. You turn your gaze around the rest of the room, spying a slightly darker patch in the corner. One probe with your fingers, and the wall flexes quite willingly.
"Oh, I did hear a Chawkri," Triss continues from the other room. "They're stupidly loud, I'm surprised they didn't shut its beak or anything."
"It would seem their style," you agree, stepping out of the bedroom. "What do you think of them? Those mercenaries?"
"Ogilvy and the lot? They seem really high end. I guess Be'Kant wanted the job done well. Black armor is pretty common, but I had heard about cycloptic mercs running around from my pal in the city administration a while ago. One thing really got me, though... I think one of them isn't actually human. You know, how all of them are wearing suits of armor... no, one of them was a mech, I'm sure of it. Sclopedran, maybe, or an Aranean design. It's definitely military-grade, or close to it, I'd wager."
"Well-trained, I'd say."
"As if that makes them acceptable," Triss snorts. "It's like companies think that hiring hitmen who conduct themselves politely makes kidnapping innocent citizens and imprisoning them any more ethical."
You approach the window again, searching for any landmarks with which to get your bearings. To the left, the line of the Shis'so Space Elevator stretches up into the sky, but the bottom falls below the crest of the elevation on which the Be'Kant complex rests. Craning your neck, you take a look to the right – in the distance, grey-white peaks form the Bounds mountain range, which you know makes up the outer edge of Hatteras's northwestern city limits. One more ought to do the trick. There, the satellite dish, part of the old communications facility: you reckon that you're at least a few miles from it. That would put the complex in the outskirts of the city, maybe even off of any major roads, which would explain why Ogilvy took you in an airborne vehicle. Another look out the window – still a huge drop to the courtyard below.
"I'm guessing that it keeps it off the books, not using individuals associated with the company and all," you offer.
"We'll see how well that works out for them."
You turn back around and, from this angle, notice the security camera nestled in the corner of the room. Its size betrays its nature as an older model, but subtlety doesn't seem to be something that your jailers are overly concerned about, and the device works just as well as any of the more modern ones. By standing underneath it, you see that it points right towards the weak spot in the bedroom you discovered earlier.
Triss starts and rises from her chair, causing you to flinch. Her gaze is pointed towards the door – both of you can now here the footfalls coming down the hallway. The lock whirrs momentarily before the door opens and one of the armored figures (Ogilvy, you assume) steps inside. "Finally," she grumbles. Ogilvy seems to take no notice.
"All right, it's time. Since there's two of you in here, I'll give you a choice on who goes first. It won't be changing much, before you think about trying to get out of here quicker."
Triss turns to look at you.
[] "I'll go first."
[] "Triss can go first."
[] Resist.
[] Let Triss decide.
"Well, they must all be connected to the warehouse fire in one way or another. I heard a few of them shouting when they were brought past the room, but I haven't actually seen any of them. Maybe we will when they come take us for questioning."
The bedroom is as sparsely decorated as the rest of the interior. The blankets on the bed are thin and the pillows flat, the cots similarly spartan. You turn your gaze around the rest of the room, spying a slightly darker patch in the corner. One probe with your fingers, and the wall flexes quite willingly.
"Oh, I did hear a Chawkri," Triss continues from the other room. "They're stupidly loud, I'm surprised they didn't shut its beak or anything."
"It would seem their style," you agree, stepping out of the bedroom. "What do you think of them? Those mercenaries?"
"Ogilvy and the lot? They seem really high end. I guess Be'Kant wanted the job done well. Black armor is pretty common, but I had heard about cycloptic mercs running around from my pal in the city administration a while ago. One thing really got me, though... I think one of them isn't actually human. You know, how all of them are wearing suits of armor... no, one of them was a mech, I'm sure of it. Sclopedran, maybe, or an Aranean design. It's definitely military-grade, or close to it, I'd wager."
"Well-trained, I'd say."
"As if that makes them acceptable," Triss snorts. "It's like companies think that hiring hitmen who conduct themselves politely makes kidnapping innocent citizens and imprisoning them any more ethical."
You approach the window again, searching for any landmarks with which to get your bearings. To the left, the line of the Shis'so Space Elevator stretches up into the sky, but the bottom falls below the crest of the elevation on which the Be'Kant complex rests. Craning your neck, you take a look to the right – in the distance, grey-white peaks form the Bounds mountain range, which you know makes up the outer edge of Hatteras's northwestern city limits. One more ought to do the trick. There, the satellite dish, part of the old communications facility: you reckon that you're at least a few miles from it. That would put the complex in the outskirts of the city, maybe even off of any major roads, which would explain why Ogilvy took you in an airborne vehicle. Another look out the window – still a huge drop to the courtyard below.
"I'm guessing that it keeps it off the books, not using individuals associated with the company and all," you offer.
"We'll see how well that works out for them."
You turn back around and, from this angle, notice the security camera nestled in the corner of the room. Its size betrays its nature as an older model, but subtlety doesn't seem to be something that your jailers are overly concerned about, and the device works just as well as any of the more modern ones. By standing underneath it, you see that it points right towards the weak spot in the bedroom you discovered earlier.
Triss starts and rises from her chair, causing you to flinch. Her gaze is pointed towards the door – both of you can now here the footfalls coming down the hallway. The lock whirrs momentarily before the door opens and one of the armored figures (Ogilvy, you assume) steps inside. "Finally," she grumbles. Ogilvy seems to take no notice.
"All right, it's time. Since there's two of you in here, I'll give you a choice on who goes first. It won't be changing much, before you think about trying to get out of here quicker."
Triss turns to look at you.
[] "I'll go first."
[] "Triss can go first."
[] Resist.
[] Let Triss decide.
Capacity: 10/20+10 (when used, bag will add a capacity of 10)
1 Spaceport employee pass
1 STC uniform (EQUIPPED)
1 Dealan artpiece
3 books
-Pelton's The Human Diaspora: How the Amalgamation Spread Our Species
-Bak'now's Founding of the Amalgamation
-Hashi'sho's I, Keshkahi
1 change of clothes
1 wallet (empty)
1 flashlight
1 bag (empty)
1 Spaceport employee pass
1 STC uniform (EQUIPPED)
1 Dealan artpiece
3 books
-Pelton's The Human Diaspora: How the Amalgamation Spread Our Species
-Bak'now's Founding of the Amalgamation
-Hashi'sho's I, Keshkahi
1 change of clothes
1 wallet (empty)
1 flashlight
1 bag (empty)
- Location
- Attached to a wall
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] "I'll go first."
The politeness makes it at the very least more pleasant than having to hear someone shout commands like we're deaf all the time.
The politeness makes it at the very least more pleasant than having to hear someone shout commands like we're deaf all the time.