Rolling in the 'Deep [Exemplary]

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

The delinquent duo strode down the corridor, Tal throwing a look over his shoulder every few feet. Though he had spent much of his time in the Omniverse dealing with unsavory folk, he had never learned to relax in dangerous situations.

“So, I don’t get it,” he began, glancing behind him once more, for good measure. “The ship was disarmed when they converted it. A lack of guns wouldn’t exactly help us right now.”

Vincent ignored the man, passing through another nondescript doorway. He didn’t truthfully have a great grasp on how they would escape, though any plan was better than meeting their captors on the deck. The two stopped presently, meeting the familiar sight of old steel as their path split yet again. The gunslinger pursed his lips, contemplating his path.

“This way leads to some storage,” his comrade piped in, “along with the majority of the prisoners’ bunks. The other is probably maintenance from the looks of it.” He poked absent-mindedly at a small electronic device.

“What? How-“

“You didn’t think I was just going to let myself be dragged to some wonky sea-prison did you?” Tal chuckled, pocketing the device. “A couple of these guys owed me favors; then again, a bunch also want me dead,” he shrugged, as if it was something everyone had to worry about. “I kinda broke even with them after taking out a couple Vultures. ‘Swhy I was locked up alone. I grabbed this doohickey off one of ‘em and kept it for myself; it has the basic layout of the ship. Nothing fancy, just a schematic.”

Vincent couldn’t help but smirk at Tal’s resourcefulness. “Your brother was right about you.”

Tal grinned. “I won’t ask what he told you. Now, where to?”

- - -

“Search every nook!”

Lieutenant Duro clamored across the deck of the ship, pointing at various men and directing them to their assigned areas.

“You!” he shouted at a particularly burly Vulture. “Get down to the hold and secure the prisoners.” The commander looked out across the sea in the direction of Impel Down. What had stalled his ship?

“M-m-mister Duro,” the navigator yelped, half running-half tripping across the deck. He held a tiny data terminal gripped tightly to his chest. “I ran the security protocols like you ask…”

“And?!” the Lieutenant barked, glaring at his subordinate.

“The s-sensors in the weapons hold show extremely h-high temperatures a-a-a-and…”

“Spit it out!”

“The lowest security hold is showing a communication error.”

Duro frowned, furrowing his brow. An escaped prisoner did not quite spell the promotion he was vying for. He had taken this meager assignment as a favor to Judge Dredd, to reinforce his worth as a commander in hopes he would be given more power among his peers. “Who was assigned to that cell?”

The navigator stared down at his data terminal. “W-well, no one was assigned…b-but there was a transfer. Prisoner 312523, surname Sola.”

The lieutenant cursed loudly, causing his subordinate to lose his grip on the terminal. The spy from the Tier 5. The boy had been scooped not for his relatively minor crimes, but for crossing Dredd himself. “What are you waiting for?!” He snarled, activating his communicator.

“Find Tal Sola!”

- - -

“Well, left it is…” Tal sighed, gesturing toward the door. “Though I’m still in the dark as to how we’re getting off this tub.”

“Leave that to me,” Vincent replied, leading the way.