A few stun grenades and several stun shots did the job. Several simultaneous flashes and the vibrations released from linear shockwaves with people yelling in the fray to get down.
The astute designers of this space station expected trouble and duly planned to riot proof the area as much as they can afford.
They built a cage-like walkway covered with metal grate screens and paths on a gradual downward slope from the last door. The walkway lead to a broken metal barred door, which opened up to a large hall, spacious enough to store one Kamuy war cruiser.
The walkway acted to slim down the numbers to a manageable level for the guards to stun those who tried to swarm around the doors.
From what I observed, a forcefield shielded us from potential ambush when the last security door opened. Shockwaves released from the stun grenades knocked out those who stood on the lower level near to the entrance.
My optical implant zoomed in on the thick metal grates with the thickness of my little finger around the walkway.
[Identification: Astronium 60%, Ferrous metal alloy 40%]
[Components: Silica Quartzite, Ferrum ore]
[Grading: 0.10% impurities]
The cage meshes were half as strong as the doors. Still sturdy and hard to tamper with.
Then my eyes moved to the broken metal barred door barely hanging from the hinges with the bars broken off.
The metal used to build the barred door appeared thicker than the metal grates.
[Identification: Ferrous metal alloy]
[Components: Silica Quartzite, Ferrum ore, Astronium traces]
[Grading: 50% impurities]
However, they used cheap flimsy metal alloy fused with a bit of astronium and half loaded with impurities. Probably a cost cutting budget wasting measure resulting in the acquisition of low quality metal bars, which bends and breaks easily.
Now they have to replace it.
I wouldn't even scavenge this barred door metal for my war cruiser if given the chance. Good to deceive others into thinking the metal is tough based on its appearance alone, when it is actually not.
Around twenty guards busied themselves removing the bodies while thudding and clanging away as they moved through the walkway. Some dazed victims groaned in pain while the guards manhandled them.
Each of the stronger muscular Haolean guards grabbed two prisoners by the collars of their prison overalls, dragged them across the floor and into a back door to the left side of the hall. The Velesians dragged one each.
The other fifteen stood guard against the crowd of prisoners sitting or lying on the smooth metal ground who didn't partake in the escape frenzy. Five stood behind Trey and me at the entrance of the now shut security door.
I noticed the hall was devoid of furniture while estimating the radius of the stun based on the position of dazed groaning individuals from the entrance.
The revolt, if it was even a revolt, ended in a big fat fail.
I spotted among bodies of dazed individuals, from tattooed Satesians to Hamazan laid groaning on the mesh flooring of the caged hallway, stairway and on the floor.
The crowd who never took part were in the far end, talking or munching away at their nutrition tube, turning away their heads at the sight of the guards clearing bodies in the pretence of nothing unusual happening.
My optical implants whirled and zoomed forward to capture the familiar face of Perkuna Zhiva and the two military officers who I had met in Eden in the same prison overalls.
The universe played a fucking huge joke on me after I thought of Zhiva as my bad luck charm.
Fortunately for me, his group looked distracted by their conversation with ten other Perunians, two stray Thorians and a Hamazan. I had to stay out of his way.
It occurred to me - none of the stunned prisoners are Perunians. The unaffected prisoners numbered around 50, including Zhiva.
With the Perunians surrounding him and their meek demeanor, a worst thought came to mine - that was a mini fucking space pirate's den under the noses of the guards.
Please don't recognise me, I crossed my finger hoping that Zhiva won't care about two newcomers, while waiting for the ten guards to finish dragging the bodies out to the back with a trail of maroon blood from the others or the occasional dark greenish blood of a Satesian.
"Should I help?" Trey asked, while I hoped Zhiva wouldn't be able to spot me.
I shook my head immediately.
Trey is the special idiot in prison, or even mercenary life. Even mercenaries never helped authorities openly unless they received a large sum of payment enough to retire far away from the mercenary hotspots.
His moronic idea of helping prison guards, a big no-no, gets the helper a lot more attention in a prison full of space pirates, highly violent criminals and psychos, akin to drawing a round target mark of 'please shank me in my back'.
Well, more for my sake, since the other prisoners may associate me with this doofus. Guilt by association is a really dangerous judgement in the criminal world.
"Only if you want to be classed as a snitch later," I warned. "Snitches don't survive well in prisons. Just keep a low profile - see nothing, do nothing, say nothing."
A low profile kept me out of trouble for a long time.
"Oh. I thought it might be good to have a few friends."
His stupid and reckless remark made me choke. Friends? With the guards? I seriously hoped he won't try to make friends with the prisoners too.
He stood beside me, restless and fidgeting, watching the guards moving back and forth.
"Where do you want them, sir?" I heard a guard asking Captain Elim.
"Sewage deck secured work center 8Q - all the participants of this nonsense - keep them in for a quarter of a cycle. Move out the rest who served their sentence there, but make sure they clean up. Don't want them stinking up the place more than they should," Captain Elim ordered.
"There's 48 of them here and 30 there."
"I thought I sent 50 the last few rounds."
"Radiation leak in five rooms. Contained. Mechanics haven't got to finishing repairs to seal the leak."
This shithole kept getting interesting.
"Come along, princesses," a guard beckoned to us to move down. "Need to get you in your cells."
I kept my head hung low, hoping my long hair can block my face as Trey followed my behavior and kept his eyes to the ground as we shuffled through the hall.
From the corner of my eye, I peeked at Zhiva, who took no notice while surrounded by his pals. With his popularity, I dare hope he is too busy to notice my presence. I didn't want to deal with a whole gang of Perunians and their buddy.
"Newcomers." Loud whistles and obscenities rang out from the sitting crowd.
"Hah, the special tour."
What special tour? The way prisoners spoke with such cynical sarcasm made me wary of the guards now.
"Enjoy the honeymoon suite."
"Sewage deck is still in need of workers. Any of you volunteering for that shithole?" One of the four accompanying guards pipped in with a threat, only to meet with a suddenly silent crowd.
"Hah. No volunteers? Good. For a second, I thought you were all hankering to smell more shit."
At a certain wall panel, one guard raised his fist at the surveillance camera and made a series of finger signals. Nothing happened.
Another tapped his communicator badge, and impatiently spoke into it, "what in the Shoah are you guys doing? Authorisation code: you FUCKING assholes."
"Alright, alright, we got ya," an equally grouchy voice replied via the badge.
The wall panel slid open, revealing an opened door to the prison living quarters which resembled cages for animals than sapient beings.
Only differences between a cage for an animal and cell for a sapient being are the beds and a sonic washing unit. Otherwise, the place reeked worse than a space zoo.
"Shortie, move," the impatient guard towered behind a trembling Troy, prodded him with the barrel of the rifle. "We've got your room ready for you two."
I didn't like how the guard mentioned the room while keeping my eyes on the dank surroundings of messy, unmade beds and garbage strewn around.
They stopped in front of a cell with personal items strewn over the bunk beds. The bedsheets looked unmade.
"Welcome to your luxury suites, sir," one guard spoke, pretending to be a hotel concierge.
"B-but there's someone l-living here…" Trey stammered.
The other inmates might warm up to Trey first in a not so good way. His soft timid behavior would without doubt attract the unsavoury and bullies.
"Well, you have an option. Fight your way up for better accommodations. That's the only way to switch your rooms. Not like any is better than this one. Welcome to Hell."