Fic: Captive of the Red Vixen, Part Seven
Jul. 24th, 2008 06:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalWell, if I can't work on The Ship to save my life, at least I can play with this.
He spent a good week bouncing off the walls of his well equipped prison. The first thought he had was to to check for hidden cameras. He found six, hidden in various corners of the common room and his bedchamber, but he was fairly certain he'd missed twice that many. They could be placed in any dark alcove or reflective surface and be well hidden from him. For a time he surfed through the database on the room's entertainment system, but couldn't bring himself to concentrate on the programs. However, a guard did bring in a data chip each day, containing a download from the major newsnets. He read through it obsessively, finding on the fourth day of his captivity mention of the fate of Sallivera. The crew had apparently successfully reassembled the radio and been rescued by a United System Forces cruiser, which had loaned parts to restore the superluminal drive to functioning order and escorted her to Newspring. News of his capture had evidentially been suppressed, for there was no public mention of it, the only statement from his family being a message his lady mother relayed to the Dewclaws, now bereft of their only son.
He wasn't terribly surprised by the silence. No, they had to keep quiet about it, or their enemy would surely pounce on them in this time of crisis. After he got through laughing himself sick.
Rolas was distracted from his musings by a chime on the enunciator. One of the guard's on the other side of the door announced, "Refilling your galley unit, sir." He stepped away from the door as it slid open and admitted the same crewmen who had delivered the Red Vixen's "welcome" dinner five days before.
"There's at least four days of food left in the unit," Rolas pointed out to him.
"The captain thought you might appreciate some fresh vegetables, just to add a bit of variety," the creo said, filling the autokitchen's vegetable crisper.
"Thank you," Rolas said grudgingly. It wasn't until a few minutes after the crewman had left that he realized the implications of the largess. He checked the crisper's contents. Most of the Red Vixen's largess were green, leafy vegetables, the sort that didn't travel well when shipped over interstellar distances because they rotted relatively quickly compared to cob stalks, corn or hard shelled fruits. They're fresh, so they were bought recently. We must have come out of superluminal while I was sleepling, probably to a world where the Red Vixen could find a buyer for my ship's cargo. He hadn't felt the telltale shudder of the ship accelerating past the lightspeed barrier, so either they were still in that solar system or perhaps even in orbit around a relatively civilized world. Not that such knowledge did him any good. It wasn't as if he was going to be able to force his way through the door and past armed guards. Once he cross the door's threshold, if he could believe the Red Vixen's warning he'd instantly be zapped by his collar's built in stunner.
So? Don't use the door, he thought.
Rolas took in a deep breath, his paw resting against the partially open utensil drawer. Trying to convince himself he wasn't about to be pounced upon by a squad of armored goons, he slipped a butter knife into the sleeve of his prison jumpsuit, then casually turned away from the autokitchen. His nerves screaming, he forced himself to sit down in the conversation pit and start casually perusing through the pre-loaded games. He let himself be beaten twice at Mah-jong before standing up and making his way to the bathroom. Then he started running water to fill the tub, hot steam filling the air as he reached up with the butter knife and started working at the screws holding the circular vent cover in the center of the bathroom in place.
A few minutes later he'd succeeded in removing all three screws and lowering the vent/fan unit to the floor, turning off the water once he'd finished. He splashed it a bit with his paw, as if entering for a nice long soak, before he grabbed the edge of the vent and hauled himself up into it. He paused, waiting for the goon squad to come charging in, but they did not come. Evidentially the Red Vixen had been good to her word, and the bathrooms were unmonitored.
He crawled forward, with each centimeter of distance he put between himself and his prison wondering when he was about to feel the zap of his collar's stunner. After he had gone ten meters forward, past the walls of the apartment cell block, he let out a sigh of relief. The stunner's activation had to be keyed into a sensor at the apartment cell's entrance, not a a general beacon in the center of the cell. Now that he was past it he was free to prowl through the ship's ventilation system to his heart's content. Or at least would be until whomever was minding the monitors in his cell started to wonder whether he'd drowned in the bath.
Rolas tried to remember which way he'd been led through the ship before ending up in his cell. The boarding hatch had been on the port side of the Scarlet Claw. The infirmary had been on the same level, just ten meters down the corridor. Sensible for a ship that had to regularly expect casualties in it's course of business. They'd taken him up one level and perhaps fifty meters aft and a bit to starboard to his apartment cell. But where to from there? The hanger bay was right out. Even if it wasn't guarded it was surely monitored and if the Scarlet Claw didn't carry any fighters he wasn't going to be able to blast the bay doors out anyway. Engineering? That would surely have a couple of guards posted there just for routine security. He racked his brain, trying to recall the ship's exterior lines. It wasn't a dedicated warship, just what appeared to be a fast freighter, the sort vulpine produce companies used to ship perishables across interstellar distances, with several weapons turrets added and likely an upgraded sensor suite and dust jacket generator. Which meant the lifeboats ought to be mounted at the ship's center, port and starboard.
He crawled forward, pausing every few moments to make sure his movements weren't heard. It had been perhaps fifteen minutes since he'd escaped his cell. Surely the guards were going to get suspicious in a moment. Nevertheless, despite the growing danger, he found himself pausing at a vent when he overheard the conversation between two crewman, one another creo, the other a human woman, both dressed in engineering coveralls and kneeling at an open access hatch, working on a circuit junction.
"Affred still pissed about losing her share?" the human woman asked.
The creo laughed. "Can you blame her? That was the richest haul we've had in a year! And we're going to pick up even more once we get the ransom money for that vulp!"
He heard a grin in the woman's voice, "That's if she lets him go. Didja hear that she served him dinner his first night?"
"Wot, you think she's sweet on him?"
"Well, even if she ain't, you can't blame her for wanting to chat him up. Vulps don't come out to this part of space too often. They ain't underfoot everywhere like you rockheads."
The conversation drifted over to a discussion of creo's recently born niece, and Rolas moved on, still thinking about their comment about his being served dinner by the Red Vixen. So she'd been lying to him about the supposed tradition for her captives. She's a pirate, what did you expect? he thought to himself. Even so, the revelation stung for some reason.
Rolas pushed the though aside, turning to port at a junction, towards the lifeboats. If he could sneak aboard one and launch, assuming they were in orbit around a world, he might be able to reach the planet's surface before they could re-capture him. Even if they did, he could use the lifeboat's screamer beacon to announce his position on every military channel that might be listening, forcing the Scarlet Claw to flee and perhaps even be intercepted by the navy or a private mercenary looking to get a fat bounty.
He crawled forward. The vent ended in a steel wall up ahead of him, a vent at the bottom providing air to the port side access corridor. Below and a couple of meters forward should be the hatch of the nearest lifeboat. All he had to do was punch out the vent, drop down and dash into it before any nearby crewman could react. Almost free! he thought. And if he could get home safely and his House collect the insurance from the loss of their cargo, their plans to escape Vulpine Prime could still be completed!
Rolas paused, just at the vent. There was a piece of paper stuck to it, pinned by the outflow of air. No, not just paper, an envelope of cream colored paper, smelling of smoke and heather. It was closed with a red wax seal, embossed with a grinning vixen's head. Even as he picked it up and cracked it open, a feeling of dread washed over him.
Dear Lord Rolas, it began in neatly scripted vulpine, A very nice attempt. Had I been an idiot, your plan might have even succeeded. Yours sincerely, the Red Vixen.
He just finished reading when the steel grill snapped down a meter behind him, the noise making him jump, any chance to back up and escape blocked. Then the vent grill was unlatched and then a honey sweet voice called up from the corridor below, "You may come down now, Lord Rolas."
His cheeks burning from embarrassment, Rolas dropped down into the corridor onto his footpads. In front of him stood the Red Vixen, her stunner pistol out and pointed at his chest. Behind her and on the other side of the corridor were four of her pirate, also armed with stunners in their hands, though they weren't aimed in his direction yet.
"Do you know, that's only the second time any of my guests have been bright enough to try and get out through the bath vent," she said, smiling. She made a gesture with her pistol and Rolas' arms were grabbed by her minions and bound again, not with cuff tape this time but steel elbow to wrist shackles, as for truly dangerous prisoners. He wondered if it was her sideways method of paying him a compliment.
"That was rude," he said, grunting as his arms were pulled back.
"No, rude was spurning my hospitality and trying to escape, even after I specifically told you there would be consequences for any attempt," she said.
"I do not consider myself obligated to remain the prisoner of a pirate. This is not some pre-Subjugation drama where I'm supposed to agree to my parole and just be your unwilling guest."
"Evidently not," she said. He blinked, wondering if he could have seriously heard disappointment in her voice. "At any rate, back to your cell you go," she continued. "You just lost the use of your entertainment center for a week and your autokitchen is going to be reprogrammed to only provide prison loaf."
"Prison loaf?" he asked, as two pirate grabbed his elbows and started marching him down the corridor.
"It's about the size of a small loaf of bread," she explained, walking beside him. "Contains every bit of protein, vitamins and nutrients that a healthy adult needs for one day, and tastes like wet cardboard, or so I'm told."
He grunted and kept silent as he was led back to his apartment cell. As he waited for the guard to cycle the outer door open, he asked, "We're not even near a planet, are we?"
"No, we aren't," she said. "We're still in deep space. Those vegetables the galley crewman brought had been kept in a stasis box, just for you."
"Why?" he asked, as his arms were uncuffed and he stepped back into his cell.
"A test of character," she said, as the door closed.
A test of character, he repeated in his mind. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out if he'd won or lost.
He spent a good week bouncing off the walls of his well equipped prison. The first thought he had was to to check for hidden cameras. He found six, hidden in various corners of the common room and his bedchamber, but he was fairly certain he'd missed twice that many. They could be placed in any dark alcove or reflective surface and be well hidden from him. For a time he surfed through the database on the room's entertainment system, but couldn't bring himself to concentrate on the programs. However, a guard did bring in a data chip each day, containing a download from the major newsnets. He read through it obsessively, finding on the fourth day of his captivity mention of the fate of Sallivera. The crew had apparently successfully reassembled the radio and been rescued by a United System Forces cruiser, which had loaned parts to restore the superluminal drive to functioning order and escorted her to Newspring. News of his capture had evidentially been suppressed, for there was no public mention of it, the only statement from his family being a message his lady mother relayed to the Dewclaws, now bereft of their only son.
He wasn't terribly surprised by the silence. No, they had to keep quiet about it, or their enemy would surely pounce on them in this time of crisis. After he got through laughing himself sick.
Rolas was distracted from his musings by a chime on the enunciator. One of the guard's on the other side of the door announced, "Refilling your galley unit, sir." He stepped away from the door as it slid open and admitted the same crewmen who had delivered the Red Vixen's "welcome" dinner five days before.
"There's at least four days of food left in the unit," Rolas pointed out to him.
"The captain thought you might appreciate some fresh vegetables, just to add a bit of variety," the creo said, filling the autokitchen's vegetable crisper.
"Thank you," Rolas said grudgingly. It wasn't until a few minutes after the crewman had left that he realized the implications of the largess. He checked the crisper's contents. Most of the Red Vixen's largess were green, leafy vegetables, the sort that didn't travel well when shipped over interstellar distances because they rotted relatively quickly compared to cob stalks, corn or hard shelled fruits. They're fresh, so they were bought recently. We must have come out of superluminal while I was sleepling, probably to a world where the Red Vixen could find a buyer for my ship's cargo. He hadn't felt the telltale shudder of the ship accelerating past the lightspeed barrier, so either they were still in that solar system or perhaps even in orbit around a relatively civilized world. Not that such knowledge did him any good. It wasn't as if he was going to be able to force his way through the door and past armed guards. Once he cross the door's threshold, if he could believe the Red Vixen's warning he'd instantly be zapped by his collar's built in stunner.
So? Don't use the door, he thought.
Rolas took in a deep breath, his paw resting against the partially open utensil drawer. Trying to convince himself he wasn't about to be pounced upon by a squad of armored goons, he slipped a butter knife into the sleeve of his prison jumpsuit, then casually turned away from the autokitchen. His nerves screaming, he forced himself to sit down in the conversation pit and start casually perusing through the pre-loaded games. He let himself be beaten twice at Mah-jong before standing up and making his way to the bathroom. Then he started running water to fill the tub, hot steam filling the air as he reached up with the butter knife and started working at the screws holding the circular vent cover in the center of the bathroom in place.
A few minutes later he'd succeeded in removing all three screws and lowering the vent/fan unit to the floor, turning off the water once he'd finished. He splashed it a bit with his paw, as if entering for a nice long soak, before he grabbed the edge of the vent and hauled himself up into it. He paused, waiting for the goon squad to come charging in, but they did not come. Evidentially the Red Vixen had been good to her word, and the bathrooms were unmonitored.
He crawled forward, with each centimeter of distance he put between himself and his prison wondering when he was about to feel the zap of his collar's stunner. After he had gone ten meters forward, past the walls of the apartment cell block, he let out a sigh of relief. The stunner's activation had to be keyed into a sensor at the apartment cell's entrance, not a a general beacon in the center of the cell. Now that he was past it he was free to prowl through the ship's ventilation system to his heart's content. Or at least would be until whomever was minding the monitors in his cell started to wonder whether he'd drowned in the bath.
Rolas tried to remember which way he'd been led through the ship before ending up in his cell. The boarding hatch had been on the port side of the Scarlet Claw. The infirmary had been on the same level, just ten meters down the corridor. Sensible for a ship that had to regularly expect casualties in it's course of business. They'd taken him up one level and perhaps fifty meters aft and a bit to starboard to his apartment cell. But where to from there? The hanger bay was right out. Even if it wasn't guarded it was surely monitored and if the Scarlet Claw didn't carry any fighters he wasn't going to be able to blast the bay doors out anyway. Engineering? That would surely have a couple of guards posted there just for routine security. He racked his brain, trying to recall the ship's exterior lines. It wasn't a dedicated warship, just what appeared to be a fast freighter, the sort vulpine produce companies used to ship perishables across interstellar distances, with several weapons turrets added and likely an upgraded sensor suite and dust jacket generator. Which meant the lifeboats ought to be mounted at the ship's center, port and starboard.
He crawled forward, pausing every few moments to make sure his movements weren't heard. It had been perhaps fifteen minutes since he'd escaped his cell. Surely the guards were going to get suspicious in a moment. Nevertheless, despite the growing danger, he found himself pausing at a vent when he overheard the conversation between two crewman, one another creo, the other a human woman, both dressed in engineering coveralls and kneeling at an open access hatch, working on a circuit junction.
"Affred still pissed about losing her share?" the human woman asked.
The creo laughed. "Can you blame her? That was the richest haul we've had in a year! And we're going to pick up even more once we get the ransom money for that vulp!"
He heard a grin in the woman's voice, "That's if she lets him go. Didja hear that she served him dinner his first night?"
"Wot, you think she's sweet on him?"
"Well, even if she ain't, you can't blame her for wanting to chat him up. Vulps don't come out to this part of space too often. They ain't underfoot everywhere like you rockheads."
The conversation drifted over to a discussion of creo's recently born niece, and Rolas moved on, still thinking about their comment about his being served dinner by the Red Vixen. So she'd been lying to him about the supposed tradition for her captives. She's a pirate, what did you expect? he thought to himself. Even so, the revelation stung for some reason.
Rolas pushed the though aside, turning to port at a junction, towards the lifeboats. If he could sneak aboard one and launch, assuming they were in orbit around a world, he might be able to reach the planet's surface before they could re-capture him. Even if they did, he could use the lifeboat's screamer beacon to announce his position on every military channel that might be listening, forcing the Scarlet Claw to flee and perhaps even be intercepted by the navy or a private mercenary looking to get a fat bounty.
He crawled forward. The vent ended in a steel wall up ahead of him, a vent at the bottom providing air to the port side access corridor. Below and a couple of meters forward should be the hatch of the nearest lifeboat. All he had to do was punch out the vent, drop down and dash into it before any nearby crewman could react. Almost free! he thought. And if he could get home safely and his House collect the insurance from the loss of their cargo, their plans to escape Vulpine Prime could still be completed!
Rolas paused, just at the vent. There was a piece of paper stuck to it, pinned by the outflow of air. No, not just paper, an envelope of cream colored paper, smelling of smoke and heather. It was closed with a red wax seal, embossed with a grinning vixen's head. Even as he picked it up and cracked it open, a feeling of dread washed over him.
Dear Lord Rolas, it began in neatly scripted vulpine, A very nice attempt. Had I been an idiot, your plan might have even succeeded. Yours sincerely, the Red Vixen.
He just finished reading when the steel grill snapped down a meter behind him, the noise making him jump, any chance to back up and escape blocked. Then the vent grill was unlatched and then a honey sweet voice called up from the corridor below, "You may come down now, Lord Rolas."
His cheeks burning from embarrassment, Rolas dropped down into the corridor onto his footpads. In front of him stood the Red Vixen, her stunner pistol out and pointed at his chest. Behind her and on the other side of the corridor were four of her pirate, also armed with stunners in their hands, though they weren't aimed in his direction yet.
"Do you know, that's only the second time any of my guests have been bright enough to try and get out through the bath vent," she said, smiling. She made a gesture with her pistol and Rolas' arms were grabbed by her minions and bound again, not with cuff tape this time but steel elbow to wrist shackles, as for truly dangerous prisoners. He wondered if it was her sideways method of paying him a compliment.
"That was rude," he said, grunting as his arms were pulled back.
"No, rude was spurning my hospitality and trying to escape, even after I specifically told you there would be consequences for any attempt," she said.
"I do not consider myself obligated to remain the prisoner of a pirate. This is not some pre-Subjugation drama where I'm supposed to agree to my parole and just be your unwilling guest."
"Evidently not," she said. He blinked, wondering if he could have seriously heard disappointment in her voice. "At any rate, back to your cell you go," she continued. "You just lost the use of your entertainment center for a week and your autokitchen is going to be reprogrammed to only provide prison loaf."
"Prison loaf?" he asked, as two pirate grabbed his elbows and started marching him down the corridor.
"It's about the size of a small loaf of bread," she explained, walking beside him. "Contains every bit of protein, vitamins and nutrients that a healthy adult needs for one day, and tastes like wet cardboard, or so I'm told."
He grunted and kept silent as he was led back to his apartment cell. As he waited for the guard to cycle the outer door open, he asked, "We're not even near a planet, are we?"
"No, we aren't," she said. "We're still in deep space. Those vegetables the galley crewman brought had been kept in a stasis box, just for you."
"Why?" he asked, as his arms were uncuffed and he stepped back into his cell.
"A test of character," she said, as the door closed.
A test of character, he repeated in his mind. He spent the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out if he'd won or lost.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-07-24 08:50 pm (UTC)thank you (great one by the way :) )
mjkj
no subject
Date: 2008-07-25 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-25 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-26 04:59 am (UTC)I'd say he won. So he tried to escape after being asked not to. Would he be worth chasing after if he had simply remained in the room and frittered away the days? On the other hand he wasn't senselessly destructive and he surrendered peacefully when it was clear he was caught.
Willing to fight, but not suicidal. Seems reason for The Red Vixen/Melika to still be interested.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 04:25 pm (UTC)Part Eight
Part Nine (warning: PG-13 for descripions of abuse)
no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-31 05:44 am (UTC)Heck, justification for an escape attempt. "Look, I'm not trying to get off the ship, I'm just trying to get to the galley. A little bread and cheese and I'll head on back."
no subject
Date: 2008-08-14 10:02 pm (UTC)