MSNPC Lieutenant S'dor Grumm - The Trophy Room

[Joseph George]

((Hallway, Lower Levels, Hab 1, Sheliak Mining Camp))

Alone again, he started back the way he came from. He had to get the lay of the land so that he could seize every advantage. He wished her luck, and reconsidered at least not escorting her forward, seeing as she was heading toward the area where the patrol had retreated to.

With a laborious sigh, he turned heel, and jogged the short way back to join her.

All of the hard labor paid off in at least one way, for his old acquaintance. She rapidly pivoted back and was almost training his gun on him before he got his words out. Her body was just as fit as it had been in her younger days if not more so, her face however seemed to have aged significantly. She was by his reckoning (and with his unique circumstances keeping time was nigh impossible), near the age he was when they were first captured. But lacking both the miracles of Federation medicine, or the naturally long life-span of a Brikar, she looked much older. These less than amenable circumstances were worsened by the pallor of a full time mining role, and the stress inherent in the labor and the condition of thralldom.

Grumm: It's just me.

She huffed at him, seemingly aggravated.

Sokova: Decided that I'm right?

He huffed this time, a half amused one syllable chuckle. She was absolutely wrong, but he owed her so much. Without her assistance, he still had no idea how she managed to activate his grav compensation harness or how the residual field managed to affect him a room away, he'd still be fighting the war in his mind, instead of the war in the Sheliak's mine. Perhaps the material of the prison cells themselves conducted the waves exceptionally well. If that were the case it would be unlike any material he'd ever heard of, an Engineering marvel.  Was this the very material their captors were enslaving them to extract? And if so, for what purpose exactly?

Grumm: No, if you really want to leave that's on you. I owe you my freedom, and my mobility. The least I can do is get you to the shuttlebay in one piece.  

She grunted at him, and laid out the plan as gruff as she'd been almost since the beginning of their reunion.

Sokova: Alright. Fine. But I'm not stopping for anything.

Now that part at least, reminded him of the determined officer that he had a passing knowledge of.

Ahead the hallway they were in ended, and a singular door awaited them. S'Dor reasoned that the patrol would have had to gone through said door in their retreat. It was both as expected unlocked, and happened to be unoccupied. They must have gone in deeper still, in order to get reinforcements, and to grab that device that kept him in his alleged place. 

((Interior. Hab 1. "Company Archives".))

The room was well lit, yet still fundamentally off putting.  At first glance, it looked like a rather uncanny version of a record's room. The strange translucent file cabinets looked like frosted glass, as S'dor passed one he wrapped on it. It seemed to be a very firm plastic, much less fragile than the glass it visually mimicked, perhaps a composite of some sort. Were they clear for ease of use (to necessitate less external labeling), or because Sheliaks believed translucence to be a superior quality? (Sheliak were translucent themselves, after all, and any quality that Sheliaks had was a superior quality in Sheliak eyes.)  

He looked at the display cases next. He studied the faces of the holograms. It was even more disgusting that it first appeared. Each hologram was a representation of the dead Officer that had once worn the burned uniforms in the cases. He recognized a few of them.

Grumm: ::whispering to himself:: Madson, Samok, Olara. . .

His silent vigil was interrupted when Sokova looked back at him, obviously as shocked and reviled as he was.

Sokova: I don't...what the hell is this?

Sport hunters, conquerors, serial killers; and to a more healthy extent (depending on their cause, side, and conduct)  Officers, and athletes, all collected trophies. Little mementos of  their triumphs and besting of the other side.

Grumm: Archives, a museum, a trophy room. 

Sokova: But does this mean...they were TARGETING us? How could they have even known we were out here? We never had any contact with the Sheliak until...

 He bit his craggy stone lip between his teeth and hmmmed. 

Grumm: I hadn't considered that. It would take hours to sift through all this paperwork though.

And he wanted to know everything, he might return and see if his suspicions of the mutiny were true, after he helped this particular mutineer flee their captors, and probably their saviors as well. If that earned him a stay in New Zealand or a less cushy penal colony for aiding and abetting escape, so be it. No prison was worse than the prison of the mind that his paralyzed body had been shoved into, not unlike how the plastic tube that kept him alive had been forced down his throat straight through to his digestive tract. 

But something here had redirected her aim.

Sokova: New plan. We find a Manager's Office or the Foreman's Chambers itself. Someone knows something...I can't...I can't leave until I know for sure.

One more for the list :
1. Raid armory

2. Find and destroy the device that disables his gravitational compensator. 

3. Have a "friendly" talk with the management team.

4. Destroy the slavers

5. Liberate the slaves

Maybe after her curiosity was sated, she'd want to free their companions afterall.

Grumm: You've got it. I don't suppose you took any Xenobiology classes at the Academy?

Sokova: Response

S'dor grimaced, and then smirked.

Grumm: If you had, you'd know that Brikar skin is impervious to energy weapons. ::break:: What I'm saying is, stay behind me, and I can provide mobile cover. ::break:: But if I start falling backwards, they've disabled my grav harness again, so you should probably get back quickly if that happens. 

Sokova: Response

Grumm shrugged, and then nodded at the door across from where they had entered and began trekking that way.

Pulling the door open, he was greeted by a translucent blue force field. He grunted, stomped over to the most personally offensive hologram, his former boss Lt, Commander Berin, smashed the emitter with bare hands, took out the wiring and other electronic components,  and began to assemble a device to short circuit the field.

Sokova: Response

Grumm: They're trying to buy time, prepare an ambush or counter-attack maybe? You're the expert.

He lumbered back with his improvised device and touched the wiring to the force field, after a few moments of sparking the sheer blue light faded away, and S'dor stepped into the long hallway beyond. 

Down the dimly lit corridor, the Brikar counted about a dozen doors on each side., and another at the end like the one they had come through. So many, who know how much time they had though.

 He grumbled.

Grumm: Frek.

Sokova: Response

The Brikar sighed deeply, frustrated and impatient.

Grumm: I guess we breach them one by one. Unless you picked up the Sheliak script and language?

Sokova: Response

He shrugged back, obviously they wouldn't let that happen.

Grumm: Yeah, literacy in the captor's language is never a priority for slaveholders.

Sokova: Response

The first door frame was on the left, he approached it and as his massive foot flew at the door he spoke once more.

Grumm: Here we go!

Tag/TBC 

Lt. S'dor Grumm

Starfleet Engineering

POW/MIA

Coming out of his shell

  

As simmed by:

 

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   Chief of Security

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