Depths

[TragicTrees]

Empyrea-12 was state-of-the-art.

One would imagine that things such as hotels and luxury areas would have the most intricate technology, but the prison 'planet' was, in fact, the most intuitive place that the galaxy it was in had seen. It had its own gravity system, a high-tech locking system, extreme security measures and protocols, and a few other features that made it so elegant and effective in design. In fact, that was only the attributes built into the 'planet' itself; the best weapons, or at least near such, could also be found there.

The reason that Empyrea-12, with it's white walls and clean look, was so extreme was because the people who built it were afraid. They were afraid of the possibility of the galaxy's greatest criminals breaking out, and having to be caught once more. They were afraid that crime would spike up if they didn't have a proper holding area. They had a right to be, in fact. After all, escaped prisoners weren't something to just ignore. They could cause huge problems.

Which was why the first Empyrea-12 was built with the most modern technology. But then? Technology evolved, and the 'planet' had to as well. Instead of simply fixing it, they built on top of it. They kept building, and building, and building, until it reached a size that was about the size of Mars. Even then, they weren't finished. They just were waiting for the technology to update, and when that happened, there was no doubt that they would start building again. It was a cycle.

Because of this, lower levels fell into disrepair. They were no longer used. Most oxygen was cut from them, and maintenance was for the most part dropped. A crew only descended once every 4 years, making it so it was practically a ghost town. That, of course, generated some tales in and out of the prison, but nothing that anyone really had the guts to look into. One may travel into 'haunted' houses for fun, but the lower levels of a prison were an entirely different story. It wasn't as if the guards would allow it anyway.

Most of these facts had been things Dallas Brooks had learned simply by hearing word being passed around by friends and acquaintances, maybe sometimes a news story. He had never been there, nor had he ever wanted to go there. In fact, he wanted the opposite; he wanted to avoid going there at all costs.

Unfortunately for Dallas, not everyone could get everything they wanted.

He wasn't sure when it all went down hill, honestly. One day, he had been normal. He had been doing his thing, working his job. He was living his life normally, without a thought of 'hey, maybe I'll go to jail soon'. The next day? Well, the next day, he found himself being dragged off for a high-stakes crime that he really, really knew he did not commit, confused and shell-shocked.

He was still shell shocked, if he were to not lie.

Who wouldn't be, surrounded by literal criminals? He thought it was completely alright to still be shocked something like this happened. He knew it was alright to be at least a little unhappy about it, because he hadn't done what they thought he did. He didn't cause any terrorist attacks, and he hadn't been planning any, either. Hell, he had barely planned dinner for the night they dragged him off.

To say the least, he wasn't doing well. He sat in his cell, avoiding any and all contact with his roommate, staring at the ceiling and wondering when it would all end (whether in death or in being released, he didn't care). He only made a attempt to go and do things when he was told to, because he wasn't looking for a punishment. Being jailed was enough.

Maybe it would be healthier to have a brighter outlook. He didn't know. But it was hard to have a brighter outlook when your roommate was probably a cannibal and you were stuck, floating out in space, with nothing to get you out. Brighter outlooks were hard to achieve, and were the last thing on his mind.

 

[Nim]

It had been three months since he got sent away. Since that last "job" went very much sideways.

Scorpio's usual crew consisted of a six person team. Hacker, Three Lifters, and two Lookouts. That was his norm, and for the most part, it consisted of the same people, as grew to trust them, and trust was a very rare commodity in the criminal enterprise. The name he had managed to gain for himself ensured that he and his team weren't disturbed by other criminals, for the most part. Law enforcement, however, had taken him in for questioning more times than he could count on all his fingers, and most of the times he walked away because no one ratted him or anyone else in his usual crew out.

Until that last job.

It was supposed to be a rather straight forward job. They knew what they were getting into, what type of security, how long they had to clear as much cash out, and the best getaway route. Scorpio had scouted the place multiple times, and made the best plan he could think of. His plans were one of his prides, considering his success rates. Everything was supposed to run smoothly, except they had to find a replacement hacker at the last second. Ringer couldn't come because of his "dying mother".

Bloody bastard. Ringer had no way of telling them, but he was been upperhanded by the cops for a petty theft of an ATM he was trying to commit on his own, just because he wanted a fancier car. The law enforcement cut him a deal, and from there everything went downhill. The job details were fully known and was allowed to be performed, only for their escape routes to be completely blocked off. Scorpio started a gun fight in order to allow the rest of the crew to escape, which, from what he could tell, they managed to pull off.

The law enforcers tried to get him to rat out everyone he ever worked with, but Scorpio kept shut. They sent him to a minimum prison at first, but later they managed to get Ringer to properly link him to multiple jobs, giving them more than enough reason to send him to Empyrea-12. They managed to link him to almost every job he ever did, except for the one they really wanted to know about.

So he had spent the last three months since then in here, being left to 'rot away' as they said, claiming that it wouldn't take long until he was forgotten. But Scorpio didn't care. His crew was still free, and he knew they were still loyal, just as he was to them. Only one that he considered a dead man was Ringer. If he ever found that rat...

Since getting inside, Scorpio mostly kept for himself. Not because people didn't respect him, but because he didn't trust anyone that got caught. Half claimed to be innocent, a quarter were already loyal to someone else, and the last quarter would sell anyone inside for the highest bidder. And he heard recently that another terrorist had been caught, but the guy kept to his cell almost always. He had no idea what mindset terrorists had, but he did know those were usually extremely loyal to whatever caused them to perform the act of terrorism.

But he saw no reason to go stray off his usual path for a terrorist.

Yet.

 

[TragicTrees]

Dallas wished something would change.

Out of all the awful, terrible things that the prison had to offer- other than being 'prison' in the first place -it was that everything was the same. The routine never changed. Even if he were to leave his cell when the opportunity was offered, he doubted much would be different. He wasn't willing to find out, obviously, but to his fairly-limited knowledge, it wouldn't be exciting. Not that he needed exciting. He just needed something that wasn't part of a constant cycle. It made him feel more trapped than he already was, and really cemented in the fact that, at the moment, he wasn't in control of his own life.

This wish was high up on his list. Near first, actually, right behind 'getting out of jail'. Of course, that was all past tense. He stopped wishing for change as soon as the lights went out.

Well, it wasn't just the lights. The artificial gravity seemed to weaken as well, sending Dallas upwards with a jolt, hitting the top bunk, before sending him back down again. After that, though? Everything was calm. The confusion of the sudden malfunction had seemed to hit all the inmates and the guards.

Chaos only broke out when the backup lights turned on.

He would be disappointed to say, later on, that his instant response was to bolt out of the room. See, there were two reasons this was stupid. The first? He wasn't guilty in the first place, but running wasn't going to help him make his case. The second? They were isolated, so running wasn't going to help him.

He kept going anyway.

Other inmates had taken up trying to disable the guards, which allowed him to duck and weave through the crowd without much attention being brought to him. The dim lights proved useful for that as well, helping him to stay out of sight for the most part as he ran to the door. He didn't know where he was going, or what he was going to do when he got there, but he figured it was better than staying in the place that was the hellhole he had just left behind. So he ran.

And he kept running, until he realized he had no idea where he was going and skidded to a halt, taking to pressing himself up against the hallway wall in attempts to not be pulled into any conflict as he regained his breath. He needed a plan, and plans? Well, plans weren't going to come easy.

 

[Nim]

Scorpio was sitting in one of the tables where they were allowed to sit at, with guards all around, when everything started going to absolute shit.

Lights flickered and went out. Then, the gravity started weakening, as he watched everyone that didn't have something to hold them down start to slowly go up. He just grabbed a hold of the table while his legs also straightened underneath it to keep himself in place, before everyone landed hard on the floor. And then, backup lights.

Backup lights could only mean one thing, and that was a very simple thing.

Chaos.

And indeed, a lot of the prisoners started running around and either tried to beat up the guards or tried to make a run for it. He kept sitting at the table, looking between the guards. Each guard had a taser, cuffs, the stuff you could expect a prison guard would have. Unfortunately, the tasers and cuffs were both connected to the fingerprints of the guards assigned to them. But, that didn't mean he wouldn't be able to use them at all. He just wouldn't be able to use their primary function.

Going up to a group of inmates that surrounded a pair of guards, he pushed his way through before putting his hands on the faces of both guards and bringing them down to the ground with force and the help of the other inmates around. As the guards begun getting kicked by the others, he quickly grabbed the tasers from both guards and one pair of handcuffs before making his way out of the crowd of inmates and heading towards a corridor.

Passing through the madness wasn't hard, but knowing where to go next was the issue. As he kept walking, he noticed the terrorist had even started making his escape, though he apparently stopped to catch his breath. Not everyone were in good shape, he figured, as he stopped by a door that still had an electronic backup lock on it. He didn't know where it would lead, but if it had a lock on it, it was bound to be somewhere better than this place.

Breaking the shell of one of the two tasers he grabbed, Scorpio moved to his knees as he started undoing some of the inner wires. Any experience he had with electronic devices, it came from the people he worked with. One of his crew, Leopold, kept explaining to him how tasers are one of the greatest tools, as they could blow up anything electronic if enough juice runs through a device. While Scorpio was certain Leopold meant to use it properly against a device, he didn't have that luxury.

After a minute of messing around with the wires, he managed to kick start the electricity, though being uncertain how strong it is, he briefly stuck it against the leg of one of the nearest inmates. He dropped to the ground rather quickly. Standing up with the lit taser, he stuck it against the door's lock. It took a few moments before the door's lock sparked and became unlocked, allowing Scorpio to go through, not caring if anyone followed him.