The Great Escape

Mark McJohn had been under interrogation in a disused cargo bay when the
clones were killed. He hadn't been able to tell them anything about the
crew's plans because a) he didn't know anything about them, and b) his
defense mechanism had gone into action fairly quickly.
In other words, he passed out.
When he came to, all the clones were dead, he was still bleeding from his
injuries sustained during the battle, and, most important, his arms were
manicled to the wall of the empty cargo bay.
"This is bad," he told himself, before passing out again.
Two hours later he began trying to get free. Fortunately the wall around the
arm holds was quite rusty, even though, McJohn recalled from his Engineering
School days, they were made of Colorum(TM), a "Guaranteed %110 rust proof"
space alloy created by Consolidated Lunar Metallurgies, a JMC subsidiary.
After two more hours of painful gyrations of his arms and various (and out
of shape) upper body muscles, his left arm came free, taking a large piece
of rusty wall with it. A half hour later he had freed his other arm as well
as an equally large piece of wall plating.
He left the cargo bay, dragging his arms, still attached to their heavy,
cumbersome bits of wall plating, along behind him. It was slow going, and
he was almost the dictionary definition of dehydration when he staggered
past a food dispenser.
"Water," he gasped in a hoarse trill.
The machine dispensed a can of "Synthetic Orange Juice", a product of Allied
Nutritional Industries "Sythetic Health Products" series which tasted almost
exactly the same as real Orange Juice doesn't. Still, it was something to
drink, and McJohn spent the next few minutes manouevering himself to
retrieve the can and then opening it with one hand while bent over and
twisted around. That acomplished (with much spillage), he trundled on
towards the Medibay.
Four hours later:
<snip>
'I dont know why im saying this, even Jack probably doesnt know,
but..i never went to the Academy to train as a pilot, i have no real
pilots license, im just a fraud, a smegging wannabe who couldnt
afford to go for training. Hell, ive never even sat a pilots test'
Amber saw the look in his eyes.
"Not that it matters anyway, we are all unemployed anyway."
He blinked, smiled, and said
'Yeah, i guess your right. I guess your right'
he strained his back, leant up and, much to Ambers suprise, gave her
a long hug, before falling back into bed.
<end snip>
As Keats and Amber hugged, an exhausted McJohn finally dragged himself into
the Medibay. When he saw Amber, he stammered out "Jean! ... Darling! I
tho--" before passing out.
Amber sighed a "Oh bloody Christ not this crap again" sigh as a Medical
Attendant carrying a small laser cutter rushed to free the unconscious
McJohn from the thrity pounds of cut-rate rusting alloy he'd been dragging
for the last six hours or more.
<tag!>
OOC - Yep, he still thinks Amber is Jean Harlow. Also, I meant to post about
McJohn being trapped in the cargo bay a few days ago, but my final exams got
in the way. Now they're over. Yay!