Coldreach Current Status
Energy (250U per hour)
5.136 tons Deutrium in storage
(Current state of operations require 1 ton per day)
Gravity Dams (currently offline)
Solar Sails (operating at minimum capacity)
[Completely destroyed]
[Completely destroyed]
Singularity Engine (fully engaged)
Supplies
0.3 tons of convertible organic material
13.8 tons of Iron
3.4 tons of Tungsten
2.1 tons of Aluminium
1.9 tons of Copper
1.5 tons of Zinc
[Expand]
Prisoners
Low Risk
J.Leber (Grand Fraud)
Medium Risk
High Risk
[Classified. Please contact Choir for additional verification]
[Classified. Please contact Choir for additional verification]
Finances
Current Account
78 scales-3 songs.
Long Term Investments
[Classified. Please contact Choir for additional verification]
Restricted Deposits
30-Lines-89-Lives-76-Hearts-69-Scales-99 Songs
Unpaid Debts
13 Hearts-12 Scales-50-Songs
State of operations
Warden’s Office-online
Security Office-online
Engineering –offline
Cafeteria-online
Medical-offline
Docks-offline
Processing-offline
Garden-offline
Residences-offline
Power Core-online
Central Server-offline
Communications-offline
Low Risk Containment-online
Medium Risk Containment-offline
High Risk Containment-offline
[Classified. Please contact Choir for additional verification]
[Classified. Please contact Choir for additional verification]
The status report proved exceptionally ominous, but gave him very little context. Apparently, there was only one prisoner left in the entire compound and half of the rooms were offline including some important ones. The funds available to them were also apparently very limited and they had very limited personnel. Of those issues the biggest one was lack of money considering repairs and hiring required money and unfortunately you need to spend it to make it.
He also needed to speak to Choir to try and get himself verified. The Artificial Intelligence apparently knew more of what’s going on than his secretary. There were no maps uploaded to the local terminal or at least none that he could find in the unfamiliar operating system which he was growing more and more certain was not designed for humans.
“I’m back, Sir,” Wendy announced a few seconds before the door opened and she walked in holding what was undoubtedly a steak covered in a sauce with almost-neon green vegetables that looked like an interlocking set of net-like vines set to the side. This dish was capped off by a small pile of black beans that had a powerfully sweet smell.
“So, this is food from Outer Space,” he said under his breath as his secretary placed the plate in front of him. In anticipation he took a whiff, before he recoiled. Way, way, way too much spice. He could practically taste the stuff through his nose. That level of capsaicin or its interstellar equivalent might just kill him. The green vines, the beans, the steak; each of them caused his tongue to tingle. Bracing himself he picked up a knife and fork on the side of the plate before cutting off a piece of the steak and then scooping up some beans before wrapping it up in a smattering of the vines and biting down.
The food was intensely flavourful only that flavour was instantly overtaken by sheer damn fucking spice. His tongue went numb before it started to burn and after a moment, he realised that each of the elements of the plate had a different pattern of hotness. He opened his mouth to choke out for some water and the air fucking stabbed him in the tongue. God, this was painful.
“Are you okay?” Wendy said sounding downright frightened as she looked at him and he had to bite a sarcastic retort down; mostly because his tongue had almost certainly gone AWOL at the moment.
“Water,” he croaked out. “Not spicy water,” he amended. Judging by Wendy’s tastes the water would probably be blended with hot sauce. The girl immediately darted out of the room and he took that time to try and get his breathing under control. He would never eat anything that spicy again, it felt like his organs had been punched. About two minutes later Wendy arrived back with a jug of water and he immediately abandoned his restraint instead chugging down mouthfuls of the incredibly cold and refreshing liquid.
“I do believe you’ve killed my taste buds,” he said sardonically trying to get the numbness out of his mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” Wendy said apologizing repeatedly. “I forgot how…subtle some species taste buds are.”
“What even is your species,” he said thinking about it for the first time since she had stepped into the room. “You look pretty human.”
“Human?” Wendy asked sounding genuinely confused. “Oh my apologies, is Human the name of your species” She tapped her hand. “Sorry, you said that your species haven’t achieved spaceflight yet. I kept thinking you were a Maatiin, you look remarkably like one.”
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“There’s a race of spacefaring humans?” he asked with surprise. What were the chances that there was a race of aliens that looked exactly like humans. “What are they like?”
“Well…” Wendy said humming and he felt a cold sweat roll down his back.
“What are they like,” he said slowly emphasising each word as he stood up from his chair.
“They’re a race of perverts,” Wendy blurted out after just a bit more pressure. “Maatiin are one of the most prolific races because they breed so much and with absolutely anything. They are known to have utterly no regard for decency or restraint in their conquest.”
“Okay,” he said out loud after a few seconds of silence. That might end up being an awkward meeting and one he should probably avoid for as long as possible.
“You should probably refrain from doing that if you want to maintain your reputation, Sir,” she responded and he smiled besides himself. All of this; the spicy food, the strange place, the unexpected job, the poor condition of the prison couldn’t bring down his mood. He was alive, all other problems he could solve in time.
“I will keep that in mind,” he said before he adopted a serious expression that he had used on him before and he in turn used it on his subordinates; an expression that said ‘right now we need to talk about something serious’. “We need to get this prison running again,” he said, not committing to a plant yet but allowing her to put forth any suggestions.
“We have enough food stocks for now,” she stated. “I don’t know about anything else. I can’t access the system.”
“We’re low on money and power,” he said plainly stating their position. “Most of the facilities are down and I’m not sure how to repair them. We need to get Choir online again. Do you have any idea where the server room is?”
“The server room is two floors down,” Wendy said. “The elevators are out of commission and the nearest stairway has collapsed.”
“Are there any other ways of getting down there?” he asked. “This place can’t have only one stairwell.”
“The stairs outside the cafeteria were destroyed,” Wendy said. “There’s a hatch that leads downward in the security room but it requires a password. The residences also had stairs I think but they have been locked up for a while.”
“Where does that leave us?” he asked.
“Well the docks have stairs I think,” she said. “But the last time I checked the docks had an unrepaired breach so there should be dangerous levels of exposure by now. The Gardens are open but…” she hesitated at that. “I always feel a bit off there so I don’t linger often; as if there’s something watching me.”
“Alright that’s more than enough evidence to indicate we shouldn’t go that way,” he said. “I noticed there were somethings missing on the layout so far. There seems to be no evidence of an armoury or a recreational area both of which these isolated prisons need.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Sir,” Wendy said shrugging apologetically. “I might be able to slip down some of the vents but you will definitely not make it through the narrow entrances. I also don’t have the authorisation to activate Choir.”
“Unless the vents are much wider than those of my home then neither would you,” the new Warden said and there was a flash on something on her face that he noted before it disappeared. “Is there any way to protect against exposure, like a spacesuit or something?”
“Spacesuits would be in the docks,” Wendy said causing him to sigh. “I don’t know where the storage rooms are or if there are any.”
“So our choices are the docks which will kill us, the Gardens which likely has some sneaky alien life form hiding in it,” he paused for a moment. “Are you sure that we can’t break the door to the residences.”
“I have tried,” Wendy admitted. “My best efforts proved incapable.”
“Damnit,” the Warden said. He still smiled but it was a less natural thing. “We have to go through the gardens. Do you at least know if there are any weapons available for use?”
“Maybe in the storage,” Wendy said unsure. “I am sorry I can’t help you.”
“That’s fine,” he said as he looked down at the terminal again and all the offline rooms.
“If you wish, I can protect you in the Gardens,” Wendy spoke up immediately getting his attention. “I am a lot stronger than I look; if there aren’t too many aliens then I should be able to protect you on your way through there.”
“Are you sure?” he asked examining her critically. She was shorter than him and looked to have less muscle as well. Still she was an alien and there might be other ways she had to even the odds. He was so out of his depth that he would have to trust her.
“Absolutely sir,” Wendy said sounding joyful before she took on a serious demeanour. “I will protect you with my life.”
“No, no, no, don’t go that far,” he shot down immediately. “If the resistance is too heavy then we will retreat and think of another plan. We still have a few days to do so.”
“Understood Sir,” Wendy said before she looked down at the plate of half-finished food. “Would you like me to make you something before we go? I promise to tone down the spice this time.”
“No thank you,” he said standing up from his chair and heading towards the door. He didn’t think his stomach couldn’t handle anything to eat at the moment. “Can you lead me to the Gardens? I can’t find any maps for the prison.”
“It would be my honour,” Wendy said causing him to frown imperceptibly. She was acting way to subservient and it gave him a slightly on-edge feeling. She had already dodged that question about her species and he wondered if she was hiding anything else from him. Regardless of his reservations he would have to rely on her for the moment.
“This place looks like it’s taken a few knocks,” he said as he finally managed to leave the room. The walls were comprised of a dim white metal but there were several rips and tears along the walls and a portion of the ceiling had collapsed ahead. Offhandedly he picked up a piece of the metal and tried to bend it with both hands achieving absolutely nothing. This was not a flimsy substance. Whatever destroyed this corridor was pretty tough.
“Yeah it was bad,” Wendy admitted. “Most of them ran completely wild. In a way it’s good that the prisoners escaped through the Docks rather than stick around.”
“Not for the people who they run into outside,” he rebutted as they walked down the hallways together. “Have prisoners escaped before. What’s the procedure? Are there space cops?”
“Coldreach sends out a retrieval team generally,” Wendy stated causing him to raise his eyebrows. “Coldreach makes money by holding prisoners so if prisoners escape…”
“The prison isn’t earning money anymore,” he said. “That could be the restricted deposits. Hey how much is a line?” he asked receiving an incredulous gasp from his employee.
“A Line is a huge amount of money,” Wendy stated before she took on a wistful look. “I’ve never really owned a Line or even met somebody who had. It’s the highest of the standard denominations as far as I am aware. All local worlds may have their own currency but if they wish to trade among the wider cosmos then they need they need to convert their currency.”
“So it’s a trading currency, got it,” he said. “Well I’m afraid we don’t have a single line. We’re down to Scales apparently.”
“That’s nowhere near as large,” Wendy admitted. “A Scale is worth 100 Songs and 100 Scales make a Heart then 100 Hearts make a Life and 100 Lives make a line.”
“So…wait give me a minute,” he said pausing as he tried to do the mental maths. “A Line is worth 100 million Songs. Alright, I am going to have to try and get into the restricted deposits as soon as possible.”
“We’re here Sir,” Wendy said cutting off his musing as the pair of them stopped by a glass door with a spider web of copper metal reinforcing it. Through the glass a veritable ocean of purple, red and green resided split apart by a vermillion path as if there were multiple warring armies. Occasional white orange or green trunks stood out from the overgrowth twisted in various shapes. Flowers of all shapes and sizes lay over the foliage like a rainbow carpet and he found that he had to drag his focus back from the bewitching sight in front of him. Without any botany knowledge the new Warden could only observe the alien flora as one would a well-made picture.
“A botanist would lose his mind over this,” he said after a pause. “Lead on Wendy.”
“Alright sir, just stick behind me,” she said as she reached into the side of the glass door and grabbed hold of one of those hydraulic release switches. With a swift turn and the sound of escaping air she dragged the gate open before she took a step inside. He quickly followed her and had to pause a bit as his fucking pollen allergies kicked in; the stupid damn things. He resolved the first thing he was going to do was to see if he could get his allergies cured. They must have something that could do that in the future.
“Are you okay Sir,” Wendy said sounding concerned.
“Just give me a moment,” he said rubbing his reddened eyes as he looked up towards the roof, ringed with hundreds of lights, about a quarter of them that gave off a dim glow. “Okay let’s go,” he stated as he followed her a few steps behind into the foliage. “Where are the stairs?”
“There’s a gazebo in the middle of the gardens,” Wendy stated stepping ahead, the textbook definition of alertness in every movement. He couldn’t even hope to achieve that level of awareness. To him the endless overflowing vegetation was an impenetrable impediment to his vision.
“So have you…” come here often was what he was about to say before the ground literally exploded in front of them. A small rotund purple creature that consisted of an overgrown mouth leapt out of the ground towards Wendy and he lifted up his arm trying to yank her back or warn her or something; only for her to catch the beast in her hands, grasping its sides and holding it at arm’s length. The beast looked restrained for only a moment before a white object shot out of its mouth towards his employee who grabbed it between her teeth and in one horrifyingly swift moment tore the thing right off causing the creature to let out a high pitched whining noise as she spat out the remains of what was probably its tongue.
“Plants,” Wendy said acting as if that display of super strength was entirely normal.
“Makes sense that there would be plants here in a garden,” he said, tacitly agreeing to uphold the deception. “But man, alien plants are lively.”
“Most plants are still content to sit around,” Wendy admitted holding the struggling thing with very little effort before in one motion she crushed the plant in a spray of dark-green. With one last motion she tore something out of the top of the head and handed it to her new boss.
“A black rose,” he said. “They have roses in space.”
“Rose,” Wendy said sounding it out. “Nice word. Now look,” she pointed ahead to where the path was dominated by similarly coloured roses.
“This looks like an opportunity to take things slowly and cautiously,” he said right as Murphy metaphorically kicked him in the balls. A massive shifting came from behind him accompanied by an unearthly hiss that turned his stomach and rattled his bones. He barely had time to lament the irony before a growing crashing of trees signalled whatever it was moving in their direction.
“Are you sure about that, Chief,” Wendy said her normally carefully polite words breaking slightly revealing an unknown accent. Their eyes met and by unspoken understanding the two of them dashed down the black rosy path.