I've been trying to make my own for the last few hours. There's no food or water down here. The plas-film is the type that won't tear no matter how much I fuss with it, so I can't turn it into a rope or a garrote. I could always fling shit—literal shit from the lavatory—onto my jailers in the hope that they'd come into my cell and pick a fight, but with my luck, they'd just gas me.
Or beat the stuffing out of me again. I rub the lump on the back of my head, wincing. I'm kind of glad Jade can't see me right now. She'd panic, because one of my eyes is swollen shut and my lip feels as big and inflated as Mathiras's ego. My knuckles are bloody and bruised and I'm pretty sure one of my fingers is broken, but at least I gave Shaalyn's crew a little work before they overpowered me.
I shouldn't be surprised that she's surrounded herself with young greenhorns. She always did love males who couldn't say no to her. It's a tick in the advantage box for me, though. They might be ruthless and amoral, but Shaalyn wants me alive…at least until she can torture me to death on her own. That means they'll do what she wants, so I need to use that. Add in the fact that her crew looks like they're all too young to have served in the Threshian Wars—and the fact that they hit about as hard as a drunken ooli—and it shouldn't be hard to take them down.
Just waiting on that advantage, and then I can get to work.
I get up and pace my cell again. There's no guards down here, which means they're utterly confident that I can't get out. Never a good sign. I'm not deterred, though. I tell myself they're just avoiding the smell and anyone creative enough can get free. I saunter over to the door and run a hand over the smooth metal walls, looking for a crack in the molding. When I find one, I wedge my fingernails in and try to pry it up. If I'm lucky, there'll be a few wires on this side and I might be able to splice something together.
Two broken fingernails and a removed panel later, I have to conclude that I'm not that lucky. I should have known the control wiring wouldn't be accessible from this side, but it was worth a shot. I pry at other panels, just to see what I can find, because I've got nothing to do but sit here and worry. Worry that they've done something terrible to Jade. Worry that one of Shaalyn's crew is “entertaining” himself with my human female. Worry that some keffing idiot's opened up Crulden the Ruiner's stasis pod—
A door down the hall opens up with a rush of compressed air, and I hastily shove the panel I'm working on back onto the wall. There are two others laying on my cot, so I carefully sit on top of them and lean back, crossing my arms and hoping I look casual enough that no one notices.
The slot in the door opens and a bowl is shoved through.
Noodles.
"You got anything better than that?" I ask, not getting up. I'll take it, of course. A liquid is useful, because I might be able to short-circuit something with it. I just can't seem too eager. I think of Jade, again. Poor love—if they serve her noodles, she's really going to lose her shit. They've not sat well in her stomach for the last few days. She pretends like she's fine, but I notice.
I notice everything about her.
"You really complaining?" asks a slightly gruff, feminine voice. I can see nothing but a pair of blue-skinned hands through the meal slot, and the pirate drums impatient fingers on the surface. "Really? You should be thanking Shaalyn for feeding you."
I'm a little surprised that Shaalyn's got a female crew member. I thought she liked them young, muscled, and male. Guess she's branching out. "Speaking of your captain, where is she? I didn't expect her to let me sit down here, unmolested. I thought for sure she'd show up to start her torture games."
The pirate leans down, and I get a glimpse of shaggy hair in front of her face and a big eye patch. And a smell. Kef me, that smell's almost worse than the one two cells down. I discreetly put a hand to my nose and make a mental note not to eat the noodles the pirate's currently hovering over as she stares at me through the meal slot. "Shaalyn's been delayed."
"Great. Go away, then." If Shaalyn's delayed, I have a chance to do more rooting around.
The female snorts. "You really are dense, aren't you, Adiron?"
I frown, getting to my feet. The way the female says my name sounds familiar. I pace over to the meal slot and peer through, meeting the one-eyed gaze of the other. Kinda ugly and dirty looking, with a mop of nasty hair…but vaguely, vaguely familiar? "Who are you?"