[JP] Marshall, Reynolds & Adea - Bait and Switch (Part IV)
Jo Marshall
((Skarbek Territory, Cardassian Prison))
The crew of the Skarbek had claimed a section of corridor for their home, lined with cells which—somewhat alarmingly, given the situation—locked on the inside. Sheets of fabric hung behind bars, providing the residents with a threadbare, meagre form of privacy. Benches and tables had been dragged onto the metal grille of the corridor itself, offering a place to gather, talk and eat, when folk were feeling communal.
But as much as they had tried to make do, it was a prison. It was grim and gloomy, the temperature dialled to make Cardassians comfortable; warm enough to feel oppressive for most, the heat only heightening the metallic tang of grime and chemicals that hung in the air.
Jo, Quinn and ‘Kos limped into camp , the rattle of the metal flooring beneath their boots, and the large cell door to the corridor clanging shut behind them. Early morning, if there was such a thing still as morning. A sleepy Bajoran greeted them with a yawn before he put the complex locking mechanism back in place, and traipsed off for slumber as the rest of their camp drifted out into the communal area, oblivious to the knackered three lumbering through.
Wiping away a sheen of sweat from her forehead with the bottom of her t-shirt, Jo huffed.
Marshall: Now I could murder someone for coffee.
Sim: ::He pushed a lock of his greying hair out of his eyes:: How much do we have? Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not enough.
Reynolds: That would be none.
Marshall: Don’t remind me.
Said with a huff, a sigh, and something construed as despair as she ran dirty hands into blonde hair and paced back and forth in the small space allotted. In contrast, Quinn stood still and quiet, crossing her arms and frowning to herself, statue-like while she processed her thoughts.
Sim: I must have a spare crutch around here somewhere, I’ll grab it and you won’t have to drag me around like a sack of flour.
Seeing a long, slender bit of pipe that he’d squirrelled away for just the occasion, ‘Kos gestured towards the door of his cell. To the untrained eye, it was merely a pipe, but it was a cleverly hidden makeshift prop, and Genkos settled it under his armpit with a satisfied grunt. Sure, the metal cut into his skin a tad, but it hadn’t drawn blood yet. He made a mental note to collect some rags to act as a pillow.
Reynolds: Jo, ::she spoke quietly, the sound barely travelling over the background thrum and groans of the facility, pipes cavitating and power humming,:: we have to do it. I know we’re not ready, but if we wait there’ll be more like Arlo.
Momentarily ceasing her pacing to regard her partner’s twin, and the women she’d slowly come to know as a friend, Jo nodded, though it wasn’t without a hefty chunk of apprehension behind blue eyes. Earlier than they’d planned to, earlier than they wanted to, with added risks they couldn’t plan for.
Marshall: I know, Quinn. ::Exhaling through her nose, lips thinning as her teeth chewed into her cheek, she nodded.:: I know.
‘Kos approached the pair and frowned at them. They were clearly conspiring about something, and he had a good idea of what.
Sim: I’ve had more than enough of this place... So, what’s the plan?
Marshall: The same, we’re just bringing it forward. It’s not perfect, there’s a lot of unknown factors, but Quinn’s right... ::She hadn’t stopped chewing her cheek yet as she nodded to the mousy-haired engineer.:: Alright brainbox, we’ve got as much as we’re going to get now. How long have we got?
‘Kos shrugged his shoulders and cast his eye towards Reynolds. He would have folded his arms, but the crutch stopped him so instead he rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. It came away dirty, which was thoroughly unpleasant.
Reynolds: Based on what ‘Kos said about the toxin, and what I know about Cardassian engineering... ::She shook her head as she thought, eyes distant as she ran through formula and calculations in her head.:: Maybe twelve hours before more people start to drop?
Sim: And that’s assuming nobody has liver troubles I don’t know about. Mine’s holding on by its fingernails as it is.
Marshall: Then we sit around and die, or we pull the trigger.
Never before had Jo felt so uncomfortable with the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders. She looked up to the cells lining their zone inside the complex, each one containing one — or more — occupants from the Skarbek, and lives she couldn’t see snuffed out because of betrayal from one they’d taken in as their own. Trying to channel some of the German Bear into her inhale, Jo nodded.
Decision made. Do or die trying.
Grabbing the sheet covering the bars of her cell, Jo threw it over the communal table, knocking over the meagre utensils on top of it. The “map”, such as it was, sectioned off the prison with where they’d scouted since arriving, what they could remember, and educated guesses, based on the cut of the walls and cabling. Lifting her boot onto the bench, Jo leaned her elbow on her knee as she pointed to the larger section at the end of their chicken run.
Marshall: The maintenance doors are in Sip’ Otra1 territory, and they’re gigantic. If we want to get close to them, we’re going to need a distraction. Someone to head in there and start causing trouble. Someone who could provoke an argument in an empty room.
She looked up at ‘Kos and Quinn, momentarily seeing Erin instead, and ignoring the flutter in her stomach, returned to the map.
Marshall: Obviously Red and Strip would be perfect for it, Staples backing them up, and Fingers leading them in. She knows her way around a weapon, isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, should it come to it.
Reynolds: Last thing we want is the Sips trailing us. ::She nodded, looking over the scrawl that passed as a schematic.:: We’ll need to cut the power to that section as well, or the automatic defenses will fry us the second we start fussing with the doors.
‘Kos’ brows peaked at the engineer, and he gave her a wry grin. She might not be Sparks, but she was arguably less likely to make everything explode. Certainly, in a tight spot she was the right woman.
Sim: Seems tailor made for you, doesn’t it, Shades?
Marshall: We’ll go, too. Take TNT with us so he doesn’t blow himself up somewhere else. We can use him as a battering ram if all else fails.
Reynolds: The problem is without power, we’ll need manual actuators to get the doors open and they’re missing from those doors.
She raised her eyebrows. Legends of the last escape attempt were exchanged like currency between prisoners, tall tales of heroic efforts and brutal failure. Rumour had it the Red Irons had destroyed the actuators to stop any further attempts, after having suffered the worst for someone else’s escape attempt.
Reynolds: But we know the ones from the security doors in Boryhas2 territory are there, and they should work just as well. If we can get them.
Marshall: That’s a big if. We’ve not been able to get past their border lines since the mystery meat incident. ::Chewing her lips and holding the back of her sweaty, grim neck, she nodded.:: Bootleg got the measure of them when he’s traded, and Greenhorn could do with the experience.
‘Kos shot Blondie an unbelievably dirty look; he had been under the impression that the mystery meat incident fell under the category of “never discuss” along with certain former cell members and that time ‘Kos tried to hit on a particularly playful Horta. The last one was mainly because he was sick of the “getting your rocks off” jokes, which Jo thought were still hilarious.
Sim: They can try a bit of that diplomacy Wigs is famous for. And when that inevitably fails, we can see whether that new Andorian is as skilled with a blade as she claims. ::his lips pursed into a steely line:: That time with the shiv, the Orion and the mashed beets doesn’t count.
The sounds of shuffling started from within the cells down the long stretch of corridor toward the rear wall, their friends and shipmates waking from another night of broken sleep, only with any luck, it would be the last night they had to spend there. It was about time they got out of the hellhole, and once they were out, they could call for the Skarbek.
Assuming it was still in one piece. Assuming everyone hadn’t died.
Her heart cracked a beat like a shard of shrapnel with the thought, and she buried that deep. Everything was unknown until it wasn’t.
Marshall: That’s the plan. Cut the power, lure the Sips, and steal the actuators from the Boryhas. It’ll get us down to the next level and we can go from there.
‘Kos twirled a grey lock of hair around his forefinger. Ideally he’d have liked more time, more medical supplies and more weapons, but this was going to have to do. He gave them both a grim smile.
Sim: The sooner we get started, the sooner this’ll all be over.
Reynolds: One way or the other.
fin
1 Cardassian: Spoonhead
2 Bajoran: Ghosts
--
Jo “Blondie” Marshall
Second
Skarbek
G239304JM0
&
Quinn “Shades” Reynolds
Chief Engineer
Skarbek
T238401QR0
&
Genkos “Wheels” Sim
Doctor
Skarbek
G239502GS0
