Escape from Prison System Eight Introduction

Previously in the Chronicles of Doom: "For Great Justice, Part One: Tower of Justice"

Now...

Tower of Justice Prison Platform #33

Day after Tower of Justice Season 12 Wrap

0700 Hours

She wakes up, groggy at first. Two men stand over her. The sound of their voices is distorted at first but soon adjusts as the grogginess fades. They are arguing about something. She decides it’s best to pretend continued unconsciousness. Burned or not, those old espionage habits die hard and her curiosity overtakes her.

Doctor: “She’s barely functioning, Overwarden! And I haven’t finished the cosmetic application on her legs yet!”

Overwarden: “Doctor Pavidus, this isn’t a charity. The legs are functioning, the woman is stable. Wrap it up so we can put her back in the general populace where she belongs.”

Doctor Pavidus: “About that...Overwarden...this woman displayed extraordinary prowess and creativity in the Tower. Maybe we shouldn’t return her to Eight. If her own gangers don’t turn against her, the other prisoners will gun for her with a vengeance, just to prove themselves. There is no way she survives.”

Overwarden: “And what is the problem with that, Doctor? Are you having second thoughts about our arrangement?”

Doctor Pavidus: “No! No, of course not. I just thought she might be put to better use working for us rather than recycled into the System, that’s all.”

Overwarden: “Let’s be clear. I don’t pay you to develop strategies. I pay you to patch these poor sods up so that we can prove to the Royal Family that we’re doing our due diligence. If I had my way, they wouldn’t be given that opportunity but D.I.E. is still in bed with the government so if I want my plan to succeed, I have to make sure all the “i”s are dotted and and all the “t”s are crossed. It’s not really the Royals I’m worried about. They’re weak and, with my resources, easy to deal with. But if Dissonance finds out what we’re up to here, we’re both scrap ABS. Understand?

Overwarden: “Besides, the Spy will never go for it. She’s had a taste of rehabilitation. The bloodlust is in her now. That’s not an asset, Doctor, it’s a liability. Go on, ask her yourself, she’s been awake for several minutes now.”

Doctor Pavidus: “Wha…?!”

Orange Spy grins. She can’t help herself. The Overwarden is a hell of a lot more clever than she ever gave him credit for. And he’s right. She’s seen the light. If she had the strength, she’d get off this cold, damn table and throttle him herself. End this whole sordid affair.

Overwarden: “Ah, the Marshals must have arrived. Poor damn fools. Such loyalty to the Sovereignty. If only the rest of the BrikVerse could see the merit in that...fighting for purpose. I’d admire them if they would only use less aggressive methods to...I don’t know what to call it...keep the peace? Yes, I like that. Law enforcement as Peacekeepers...hmmm...oh, well, they’re in my way for now. Something to consider for later.”

The Overwarden speaks mostly to himself, the doctor little more than a background decoration. He likes to hear himself talk. Finds it soothing to give voice to a small part of his genius. Let it seep into the universe and help make it an incrementally better place.

Overwarden: “Remember, Pavidus, you made a deal. I expect you to honor it. Because if you don’t, being recycled into base ABS will be the least of your worries.”

Doctor Pavidus: “...”

Overwarden: “Ah, Marshals, so good to see you! I assume you’re here to pick up our winner--.”

Marshall: “’Scuse me, warden, we’re just in the middle of the proceedin’s.”

The doctor waits a moment for the door to swish shut before whirling suddenly to face Orange Spy.

Doctor Pavidus: “Listen, we don’t have much time. This may be the last time I can talk to you alone. The Overwarden is completely insane!”

Orange Spy: “Yeah, you ain’t kidding.”

The Spy throws a wry look toward the door.

Doctor Pavidus: “This isn’t a joke! Come, follow me.”

Doctor Pavidus: “Here, smuggle one of these items. The guards will assuredly find it on you at the gate check but they’ll let you keep it because they’ll be so impressed with your ingenuity. Besides, you’ll need it. Might I suggest one of these Gun Bases? They’re super customizable and have led to great advances in Dissonance Weaponry.”

Orange Spy: “You sound like a salesman, Doc. Why are you doing this?”

The doctor sighs heavily and suddenly looks very weary.

Doctor Pavidus: “I screwed up, kid. Eleven heroes, men and women who could have changed the universe having gone through the Dissonance program...well, they’re gone and it’s my fault. Hell, some of ‘em might even still be alive...if alive is what you want to call that miserable existence in that hole to which they’re about to send you. You heard the man. He wants to spread Peace throughout the universe and crush anyone with the BrikWarsian Spirit in ‘em. Folks like you. Good folks. And I helped him...Gods help me, I’m still helping him.”

Orange Spy: “So, what’re you going to do about it, Doc?”

For maybe the first time ever, real steel shows in the doctor. Spine. Resolve. A tired, whimsical smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Doctor Pavidus: “I’m going to help you end this, that’s what. I’ve already made all the arrangements. You’ll be transferred with your fellow survivors from the Tower. I think you can lead them, help them to work together. You’ll need one another to survive that place. I know it and you know it. I’ve managed to smuggle your Artifax in. You’ll have to search for them once you’re in but they should be close to the drop zone I specified. I can use my influence to drop you care packages every so often and help provide you with a better chance to get out...escape the inescapable Prison System Eight.”

Orange Spy: “What makes you so concerned with survival, Doc? We could walk in there and turn that place into even more of a warzone than it ever was before. Level the place. No one could stop us now. What could be better?”

Doctor Pavidus: “This is about more than you, dammit. The only way you can stop this madman is to escape PS8. Get the message out! He’s killing Heroes! Stomping out our basic minifig instincts bit by bit! The Overwarden is murdering us as a species. You and the others are the only ones that can stop him once Little Jack gets his “reward,” a one way trip into a damned sun. The fate of the universe is in your hands.”

Orange Spy: “I know it. I just wanted to make sure you did, too.”

Drop Point Number 867, Prison System Eight, Doom Moon of Dis

Two Days after Tower of Justice Season 12 Wrap

0300 Hours

The whining engines of the Dissonance Industries Jailbird VTOL shatter the early morning silence. Some of the inmates begin to rush forward, toward the drop building, but everyone sits up and takes notice.

Prisoner: “Come on, guys! Fresh Plastic!”

Another Prisoner: “Yeah! Let’s get these fuckers!”

Still another Prisoner: “Fuckin’ A Right, doggies, they won’t even know what fuckin’ hit ‘em.”

The Jailbird barely scrapes the top of building and pops its back hatch before pointing its nose skyward again. The occupants are dumped from the back like so much garbage. The ones who’ve been here before...they know what to expect. They’re out and taking positions within the building before the dust kicked up by their transport begins to even settle. Some of the others, well, they aren’t as prepared or as lucky.

Second Prisoner: “These fuckers hidin’, Beaver?”

Beaver: “Prolly, Pinkie. Don’ worry. They gotsta come out sometime. Get food or summat. We’ll nab der stuff then, man.”

Pinkie: “C’mon, man! That’ll take forever. If we wanna get in with the Clowns, man, we gotta get their stuff sharpish.”

Beaver: “Gods, fine. Fuckin’ whiner.”

The lead prisoner of this little standoff, the one called Beaver, turns away from his companion and cups his hands around his mouth, yelling his head off in an overt show of bravado. The girl looks suitably impressed and seems to have already forgotten his crass insult. Might help that she got her way too.

Beaver: “Hey! You in there! N00bs! Get out here and give yer stuff to us!

All he gets in response for his effort, however, is a tense silence. He waits a minute, a little confused. Then he gets angry.

Beaver: “Hey, Whassamatta!? YOU YELLOW?”

Snake Yellow: “Actually, yeah...I kinda am.”

Prisoners, collectively: “Oh, SHI--!”

The second story steel door slams open and, in a movement almost quicker than the eye can follow, Orange Spy is atop the railing and firing her newly modded pistol. She plants the shot right between the third prisoner’s eyes.

With a staccato of heavy thumps and the whirring of servomotors, Mark Three launches himself from the rooftop. Pinkie is frozen in horror as she watches the metal bodied android meteor toward her.

Snake Yellow gathers himself up on his serpentine tail and uses the coiled power to spring forward, his Fang Dagger lashing out as he moves past the foolish Beaver. The dagger encounters the barest resistance and then slides cleanly through the brodude’s neck.

The gateway toadies dealt with, the Tower crew rolls into PS8 proper. Several prisoners wet themselves. Others take a deeper interest, their faces alight with the possibility of reputation beyond measure and a chance to finally win a way out of this hellhole. Several other problem prisoners move out into the open with the Tower crew. It is unclear where these new arrivals stand but what is clear is that PS8 is about to get a whole lot messier.

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