The Hole Story

Posted on Fri Nov 10th, 2023 @ 1:09am by Captain Björn Kodak & Lieutenant Victoria Cross & Lieutenant JG Gwenwyn Marwol & Ensign Mei Ratthi & Lieutenant Timmoz
Edited on on Fri Nov 10th, 2023 @ 1:10am

Mission: Stardust and Sin
Location: The Hole, Hukatuse Tagumik
Timeline: Mission Day 2 at 1915

[The Hole]
[Hukatuse Tagumik]
[MD 2: 1915 Hours]

The Enforcers had made quick work of processing their Starfleet prisoners. All weapons, tricorders, PADDs, and other personal items had been confiscated, though Timmoz and team were allowed to remain in the clothing they'd set foot on the station in. Biometric scans were conducted, the results of which were entered into the station's criminal database, and a call was placed to the Sojourner to inform Lieutenant Oliveria -- who was serving in Kodak's stead -- of the arrest and impending hearing with one of the Governor's judges. Absolutely zero consideration was given to the prisoners' side of the story and, in fact, talking at all was rewarded with a bit of rough handling. The Starfleeters were informed that they would have plenty of opportunities to share their side of things at the upcoming hearing.

While awaiting that, the away team was led to an upper level cell with a clear view of the grounds below. Peering through the orange-colored glass -- which was at least a foot thick and heavily reinforced -- one could see other prisoners being led onto the floor for daily exercise and meals at a smattering of central tables. Other cells, too, were visible, the occupants inside either having accepted the reality of their "stay" or raging against detainment. Prisoners of that ilk could be seen being beaten into silence through the various windows cordoning off their cells.

As Timmoz, Ratthi, Cross, and Marwol crossed the threshold of their own cell, the central chain training them together was removed, as were the wrist restraints, allowing blood to more freely course back into the prisoners' arms and hands. The Enforcers stepped back and activated the heavy, gunmetal doors that would seal the Starfleeters in: their window the only portal to observe what was happening beyond their cell. A promise had been made by the Enforcers to return when the hearing was set, though when that would be was anyone's guess.

Rubbing her wrists, Victoria turned to the door, then to her fellow crewmates. "Is everyone alright?" She asked, hands finding her pockets. "I have a feeling we aren't going to be given a fair judicial process, my friends. Prison this large on a station this remote may have ulterior purposes."

"Oh believe me," Timmoz said, already observing his surroundings and beginning to mentally map its contents, "The greater bulk of the galaxy's judicial systems assume guilt." His brows popped, "And a hearing is a show to the masses assuring them that order is maintained. Have you ever been to Canamar prison? Now that's oppressive autocracy. This." Timmoz shook his head and stuck out his lip, his mouth turned to mockery. "This is somebody's make believing they have power."

The Doctor's scaring was causing a bit of a bother to him but nothing to impair his ability to work. "Fine," He replied to Miss Cross, turning to the Orion with fluffy duffy black hair. "Perhaps Kaldri has been incarcerated here?" Trying to make it out as if this was his team's plan all along.

"I think the server I was talking to knew where she was. There was something in his body language. Whether or not we'll ever be able to talk to him again, though . . . " Mei trailed off and stuck her face next to the glass, trying to get as good of a view as possible to observe whatever scenes she could. "I wonder how much of this is all for show, and how much is fully part of the structure? Both sociologically and architecturally speaking. If it's all a facade, that'll make it easier for the others to get us out. Assuming they figure out what's happened to us."

It was, at that moment, that a slight whirring sound could be heard. In the middle of the cell, a circular shape on the floor began to rise, revealing a hollowed-out column that settled into a stop motion at near-chest level for Cross. Within the column, situated on a shelf, was a dirty jug of even dirtier looking liquid inside. It wasn't water -- water was far too valuable in this part of space to waste on prisoners -- but instead seemed to be some kind of verdant, organic suspension that wasn't far off from the color of Timmoz' skin. Brown chunks of something floated at the top of the liquid, with smaller granules slowly settling to the jug's bottom. This was, it seemed, some kind of bio-nutrient solution designed to provide the most basic of sustenance.

"You have 12 kelliks to refresh yourselves," came a gruff, disembodied voice from above. How long a "kellik" constituted was, at this point, an unknown, however. "You will not be fed again until tomorrow. Drink accordingly," the voice trailed off.

"Don't drink it. There's no telling what's inside it, everyone. I would rather be hungry and crass in a day than drink the swill that's in that filthy jar. We'll be out if here before the day, anyhow." She made her way over to the front door and took off her coat, wrapping it around her fist. She made her way back to the others after thinking.

She searched the corners for cameras and took a breath, before speaking quietly. "Okay. Any ideas, everyone? Maybe jostle the drink thing free of it's placeholder with force, use it to battering ram the front door?"

Timmoz looked at the door and then to the nutrition dispensing... thing. He doubted they'd be able to force of dispenser down in time before guards barreled in and "corrected them." He too had been looking for likely receptacles that would house sensors or cameras. This was a low-tech prison, as far as Rango and Canamar went.

Instead, Timmoz started to look up at the connection of the nutrition provider apparatus, into the ceiling. If it came out in something long enough to reach them, then it had some kind of bay above. "I had grease chunks for Lunch," Timmoz said to the disembodied voice. "Thanks anyway."

Marwol clearly wasn't in distress like his other comrades, it looked as if he was enjoying himself. "I vote we do nothing for now," Gwenwyn said with his back literally against the wall. "Intelligence gathering takes months and we know nothing." Moving closer towards the jug of fluid he peered in and continued. "And for this. Interesting subject, the tests I can run are to check the taste and to boil it using the lightbulb." He said calmly with no signs of distress in his voice.

"If I were Vulcan," Timmoz said, approaching the dispenser again. His eyes gazed up again to the apparatus' connection. "I would say logic dictates that using this to knock down the door, assuming it was strong enough, would have guards down on us immediately. And they'd probably separate us to reduce our collective threat." He put his hand on one of the telescoping poles, "If I were Vulcan," he said with a smile and eyebrow raise. He gave the old dispenser a good tug. "No, that'd really on there. Very connected. Sturdy. Good..." He pat it, "Vole-hole craftsmanship." He looked at the Doctor, "Anyway. Yes. We might as well wait to see what our captors want from us."

"Agreed," Mei said, her gaze still roving around the boundaries of their space. "Besides. Doorways are usually the most reinforced parts of a structure. They take a lot of stress, what with all the opening and closing. Weak points tend to be at the mid-points of walls or ceilings. And floors." She tapped on the wall behind her as though to make a point. Then she noticed the looks her comments garnered, and shrugged. "My mom's an architect and my sister is a structural engineer. They'd ramble, and I'd listen."

Walking towards the toilet or what appeared to be a toilet in the Doctor's eyes, he took 3 pieces of starch-discoloured toilet paper that hung above. "While we'll wait. We can play a game," Marwol said. "We're stuck on a desert island. Take as much paper as you believe you will need." He finished with a soothing smile, he knew very little about these officers and this game would change that.

With a quiet and cryptic smile, Timmoz walked to the toilet paper and took only two small sheets. He folded them over each other, turned, and walked back to the shelf he'd original been sitting on.

Victoria sighed, and took a seat by Timmoz. She stretched her legs and rolled her elbow, staring ahead at the large glass door. "Okay. Let's play a game. What did you have in mind, Timmoz? It would be great to get to know the rest of you better. I'm Victoria, the new secondary Ops chief. I'm from Brisb'n and married to a Vulcan. What about you lot?"

She took stock of Mei and Marwol, and somewhat dropped her guard, giving them a smile.

Folding the paper in his hands, it wasn't the best fold in the galaxy but it was still a fold. "Fold your paper," Gwenwyn stated, awaiting everyone to fold theirs before speaking up. "Rip each square into 2." Gwenwyn did that, demonstrating what to do. Now his 3 had doubled into 6.

"Throw a piece onto the floor with a fact about yourself, like this. I'm Gwenwyn Marwol." After a finish, he threw a piece of paper onto the floor. "I'm a Doctor." Another paper was thrown onto the floor. "I was a surgeon, now I'm a physician." Another paper flew through the air and softly landed on the growing pile. "My first job was working as a puppeteer in the circus." Another torn square made contact with others of its kind far below. "I was born in Wales, United Earth." Another paper left the palm of his hand and was whisked away. "My family dates back to the Roman Empire and since the 16th century in the Bubonic plague we started being doctors." Now the last paper was lying on the floor with its brothers.

Timmoz followed suit with an amused look. "I don't know what the Bubonic Plague is... but it sounds disgusting. In Orion, Bubonis means a small crustacean that vomits up its own organs to digest its prey." The ever-present smile and hooded-eyed look of the Helmsman turned to his toilet paper. "Yes, my family is Syndicate." He dropped one sheet on the ground. "My first posting was the Qualor II shipyards." He chuckled and circled back to his perch, "Not Qualor II itself. Our Zakdorn masters saw no point of shoreleave."

Timmoz leaned into his spot again. "Lets see... two more." He scratched his cheek absently. Another tear of tissue went to the floor, "My favorite past time is watching Tatharoc." And the last square went down, "And I play the Tigan Mira. Badly."

Mei took her time selecting the bits of paper she'd toss into the circle, as though it really mattered which bit she tossed and which she kept in hand. "My family moved around pretty much constantly when I was growing up, so I don't feel like I'm from anywhere in particular, except, maybe Betazed, since we lived there with my grandfather for a few years." She threw the second piece, though it didn't go far and fluttered to the floor a few centimeters from her foot. "After I graduated from the Academy, I spent two years on Andor, studying with the Aenar. I got my masters degree in anthropology there and an appreciation for the many varieties of natural snow and ice formations."

While the game could have, quite likely, gone on for additional rounds, the guards for Hukatuse's premiere prison seemed to have other ideas for the prisoners' time. The large metal door hissed and groaned open, allowing a view of four guards, two of which were wielding stun batons in a threatening pose as the other two moved forward. "Get to your feet," came an order from one of them. "We are taking you to the exercise yard. You will have sixty kelliks to spend there." Again that unexplained-in-Federation-standard measurement of time. "Let's go," the another guard said, sparking the baton's tip against the air itself and gesturing the four prisoners out into the hallway beyond.

=/\= A joint post by... =/\=

Lieutenant Victoria Cross
Assistant Chief Operations Officer

Lieutenant Timmoz
Chief Flight Control Officer

Lieutenant JG Gwenwyn Marwol
Assistant Chief Medical Officer

Ensign Mei Ratthi
Science Officer

NPCs and Environment Stuff (Brad)