May. 24th, 2011

Part two. Where am I going? I do not know. Let's find out.

Our trip through the Balboa City justice system was nasty, brutish and short, full of unpleasant things such as judgment and justice. Me and Lopez were sent up to the Tierra Salvador maximum security prison unit. And when I say 'sent up' I mean it literally.

The unit was a series of interlocked tubes, strictly zero gravity, at some annoying Lagrangian point in the system. Space is a natural match with incarceration; it's harder to get up to shenanigans in freefall, you can quell riots by lowering the oxygen mix, and it's impossible to tunnel your way out with a spoon.

Of course me and Lopez were old pros at jail. We had an informal kind of competition to see who could smuggle more stuff in using their rectum. I had Lopez beat on volume, but my Weasard engineer was a more efficient packer. Between the two of us we brought in a substantial amount of the local currency (Tierra Salvador reverted to cash after the Third Crash and never switched back), several tabs of painkillers, a comm bud, and a slim stunrod (well played, Lopez; well played). While the other new inmates were retching from zero-G sickness, me and Lopez were doing cartwheels and casing the joint for weak points. I figured we'd be kings of the stir in a week and own it in five.
Read more... )



September 2012

2 345678

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 07:10 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios