"Penal Colony Transport Vessel 505 docking," the monotonous voice of a bored port operator said over the public announcement system in the space station.
The day of waiting had arrived with all the ship's structural information and destination coordinates stuffed in my head. The escape plan had been set in motion.
I studied the bleak holding cell while seated on the cold, hard bench. At least, they didn't shove me in a cryogenic chamber again.
Opposite is the shiny gray toilet bowl fixed on the wall and a small sonic washer for hands.
Four grey walls, made of astronium, a metal tougher than diamond, surrounded me. Two walls acted as doors. I entered by the back so the one on the opposite of me could be the exit to the loading dock.
The suffocating collar kept rubbing the skin of my neck raw. My eyes glanced at the specialised but heavy shackles on my wrists and ankles. The short chains linking the shackles allowed me to shuffle around.
The stealthily hidden nano-cybernetic optical implant in my cornea continued to display schematics of the restraining devices.
One full scan of the item is enough for my implant to identify the weakest point in the structure.
Unfortunately, the same can't be said about this grey cell of gloom. Even the damn toilet pipe led out to the endless void of space.
With a burgeoning population and overcrowding, the Council decided to dump us on some barely habitable planet.
As far as they are concerned - out of sight, out of mind.
A loud whirl from the door distracted me from my thoughts. I stood up while the door slide open, revealing two grouchy looking guards holding photonic rifles firmly in their hands, aimed at me.
I rolled my eyes at the clear and direct view of the rifles barrels.
"GET OUT," one yelled, waving his rifle.
I walked out of the cell and felt a sudden air movement change.
[Proximity alert!] My optical implant flashed.
I waited for the blow to land. Swinging around with the shackles throws me off balance.
"OWCH!" was all I heard, and the sound of a yelping guard.
A rifle slid past my feet, stopping a few paces in front
"DON'T MOVE!" the second guard yelled.
Other guards in front ran ahead to retrieve the rifle.
"Hey rookie, don't touch this prisoner," the other guard told the former yelping guard walking past me.
"Why?" He turned and looked at me.
Oh, I get it!
With a smile, I mouthed the word 'BOOM' with my lips as both of them turned pale.
While they defrosted me in a process like some frozen meal, my cochlear implant heard the bogeyman rumours flying around how the Kamuy had an inbuilt ticking time bomb.
Little old me reaped the benefits of my previous self destructive dead comrades over the years. Their scientists attributed those explosions to their fiddling.
They are not wrong. A self destruction sequence in each Kamuy upon death sets a trigger using ambient temperatures to stop curious species from stealing our cybernetic tech.
"WALK!"
I continued walking down the short corridor until I entered the holding area. The Perunian prisoners in a gray drab jumpsuit, including Zhiva and Garan, different from my red jumpsuit, stood in the second row behind the twenty armed guards.
Thick astronium chains linked their shackles together, restraining the prisoners.
Other than Zhiva and Garan, the others kept their eyes down or looked away. Not out of fear. They have something to hide, like me. Like their thoughts.
"TUKU GENJA, MOVE FIVE PACES," hollered the same guard.
His voice sounded almost hoarse from his constant yelling. Not that I mind. Hardly anyone called me by the assigned birth name.
Still, the grand announcement of my prisoner class and the rest of the space pirates avert their gaze away. Trey already boarded since he wasn't in the crowd.
The cybernetic implant in the cochlear of my ear caught the words of a prisoner whining among the heavy breathing of the nervous guards.
"Zhiva is out of his mind." Another said.
One prisoner replied in a hushed tone, "Advice, dude, Zhiva's a crazed motherf —"
"Quiet," the guard in front of them cut them off.
Better feared than respected.
Fucking cool to have a bad ass image, like Zhiva's.
The sight of the dreary, colossal armored transport carrier behind the clear diamond windows fascinated me.
The optical implant visualised the partial schematics from what it scanned and summarised information.
[Vessel class: Juggernaut]
[Built class: Battlecruiser Transport]
[Detected: Ten Ventral Turret systems, Dorsal Torpedo bay]
[Modification: Detachable cell shuttle]
[Unable to obtain full schematics. Not in full view]
Nice, ten frontal firing turrets and a torpedo bay at the back. Not bad for a transport vessel, but not good for any attacking space pirate.
The cell shuttle referred to the cell block housing us for the entire journey before they dump us on some primitive planet with unsuspecting inhabitants in another galaxy.
The Captain of the guards paced back and forth at the entry point of the long metal gateway leading to the aero port.
A smooth metal rectangular-shaped machine stood, creating a small passageway at the entry point to the gateway.
The gate-like machine shared the same appearance as the one that clamped on the collar and shackles at the entrance of my cell.
The Captain stopped and threw a contemptuous look at me.
From the window, I noticed an extending aero bridge emerging from the gateway towards the large airlock of the dreary-looking carrier in the vacuum of space.
*THUD*
The aero bridge clamped onto the airlock, setting off a mild tremor in the holding area.
A holographic image of a tall man in the signature black military uniform, only worn by the Council's armed forces, appeared in front of the Captain, who saluted.
"Two cyborgs and thirty Class A felons?" the hologram asked.
"Aye, sir, the first one has been loaded," the Captain replied, still standing straight at attention.
"Let this one on board first and then the rest.
With that command, the hologram vanished.
Escape is futile. On the penal space station, the only way out was through space, via penal transport vessels from long range shuttles to transport carriers like 505.
"Tuku Genja, go through the passageway."
I walked into the passageway and a bluish force-field emerged, sealing off the front and back.
"Please stop." A robotic voice spoke from the top of the passage way.
Right, not like I can go anywhere.
My ears pricked up at the annoying whirling sounds as a mechanical arm rose from the formerly flat side of the machine.
I can feel something cold touching the back of my neck, and a sudden release.
*Click*
Nothing like the refreshing feeling of cool air brushing my neck as I moved my head from side to side in relief.
"Shock collar removed," the robotic voice said.
Another whirling sound made me looked downwards. Two mechanical arms were removing the shackles from my wrists and ankles with their three fiddling fingered hands.
*Click*
"Wrist shackles and anklets removed," the robotic voice reported again.
Parallel red laser lines emitted from the passageway moved up and down my body, scanning carefully for contraband.
A shrill alarm went off above my head.
AH FUCK!