What the hell? I thought that cell was empty. “Come on, you,” Jeremy beckoned to the Klingon, “what’s-your-name.”
“I am Quchuq JatIhe ’Sa!”
“OK, great. You coming?”
“And bring further shame to my name by running? I refuse!”
“There’s no shame in running!” Jeremy protested.
“Pah!” Quchuq spat on the floor of his cell. Jeremy rolled his eyes, about ready to haul the Klingon out bodily. “I shall die honorably fighting my captors when they come to execute me!”
“I don’t mean to contradict,” Jeremy replied icily, “but I don’t see you dying — honorably or otherwise — anytime soon. Do try to enjoy being a Guado slave, though.” Jeremy turned to stalk off.
The Klingon leaped to his feet. “bIneplI’!”
Without slowing, Jeremy shot back, “Hey, you don’t have to take my word for it.”
“Hwrrrawrh raah.” The Wookiee’s fingers were tangled in the wires spilling out of the keypad case, so he spoke without turning.
“What did he say?” Quchuq demanded.
“‘Run and live or stay and suffer.’ I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Jeremy tipped a respectful nod to Raagrakyysh when he glanced over his shoulder; the Wookiee grinned back.
The Klingon growled. Jeremy ignored him, alternating between watching Danae look over Samus’s virtual shoulder and Raagrakyysh sorting through a tangle of wires.
Despite himself, Quchuq grew curious. He stepped through the doorway and stood by Jeremy, feigning disinterest. After several moments he spluttered, “Just shoot the damned thing!”
“Frying the panel will just lock us in permanently,” Jeremy explained calmly. Inwardly, he was trying not to laugh; it seemed the more nonchalant he acted, the edgier the Klingon got. There was something so satisfying in unnerving a Klingon. “We tried that once already. Not to mention,” he added just as the Wookiee took a breath to speak, “it would offend Raagrakyysh’s delicate sensibilities.” The Wookiee in question snorted at Jeremy’s turn of phrase, but grunted agreement.
This was followed shortly afterward with a prolonged growl of frustration. “Berrr rwah hrr raahyawr harrrr yawr, grr,” he complained.
“What’s wrong?” Danae inquired.
“Stupid Guado, doing everything bassackward as usual,” Jeremy said. Danae chuckled. “No, really: the circuit that opens the door is triple gated, so just spiking power through it won’t work. You’d have to spike a specific voltage through the circuit for each gate, and each gate opens under different voltage. Plus, even if you hit a gate with a surge and open it, you still have to pulse power through it to keep it open so you can hit the next gate. Otherwise it closes and you have to start over.”
“That’s an electrolock, ya know?” put in Raijin, maneuvering closer to get a look for himself.
“Oh — an electrolock?”
“Yeah! Like a combination lock, ya know? They’re pretty easy to build.”
“Really. You know much about Guado engineering?”
“Nah, ya know? The Guado got the idea from us! Stupid, ya know?”
“Huh. Yeah, pretty stupid, I guess. Well, Raijin, looks like you’re the man for this job.”
“Yeah! I got it, ya know?” Raijin crouched beside Raagrakyysh, who pointed out the requisite wires. Raijin nodded and stood up. “All right, stand back, ya know? It’s gonna get a little hairy.”
The spectators obliged by shuffling away about a meter. Raijin picked up the wires Raagrakyysh had indicated — and wrapped the stripped ends around his fingers. Danae twitched at the sight; she half turned away with a little grin and focused on Samus. Raijin squeezed his eyes shut, seemed to strain against something. A hint of ozone drifted into the cell block. Noses turned away from the assault; surreptitious shuffling opened a space around Raijin; someone made a sound that might or might not have been “Ugh.” The door mechanism went clunk fssshh. The two halves of the door began retreating into the bulkhead, letting in a breeze from the corridor outside.