Untold Stories of a Galaxy - Kysaek: The Beginning
Black, white or ... ? - Vernandi

The truck jolted and rumbled as it travelled along the makeshift road. Its open bed was almost empty, with one exception - Vorrn. He was alone, lying on his side as his eyes wandered over the uncomfortable surroundings and the truck travelled over the vast, stony terrain.

A detention centre, as the Greedy Fangs called it, that was all this ship dock full of prisoners was. It was located on the moon Oppur Two, which had no atmosphere and therefore there was only the star-covered space above the dock and without the existing atmosphere shield and gravity generator, a proper operation on the bustling, huge loading yard would hardly have been possible. Added to this were the Greedy Fangs’ not exactly few guards, stationed at various points and on sniper towers, supported by armed bots. Their compound was surrounded by an arched building, undoubtedly a Luna Alliance post abandoned decades ago, but only half of it could be identified as a secure facility. The rest was more of a long, well-lit canopy, with supporting pillars under which stood containers and cages full of prisoners, like a zoo and without dignity. Said masses of prisoners were not taken away, however, but merely individual inmates specially guarded by the Greedy Fangs mercenaries and herded along towards the hundreds of metres of space dock built into the side of a mountain, where an even longer ship was docked. It was the only part of the facility that was partially outside the atmospheric shield, where the heavily armoured transporter, equipped with two large double-barrelled turrets, could take advantage of the weightlessness of space.

The truck drove to this spot. ‘We’re here,’ the driver said through the open rear window and stopped just before the end of the atmosphere shield.

There was a narrow steel bridge over which they could enter the ship. However, this was only possible with converted light spiders, which served as mobile atmosphere and gravity dispensers with their limited shields.

‘Get off,’ the driver demanded.

‘About time,’ replied Vorrn. He jumped off the loading area and didn’t waste a glance on the truck driving away. ‘Who’s taking me in?’

‘Me,’ said a male voice. ‘But first, hand over all your weapons.’

Vorrn turned his gentle head to the side. ‘To whom?’ he asked, faintly rotating the barrel of his mechanical gun arm. ‘You?’

From his stature, the man appeared to be human, but that was not certain. His body and face were covered by the armour of the Greedy Fangs. Its colour was a metallic, grainy red, with the mark of the mercenaries all over the chest plate: the wide-open, golden jaws, like a snake, from which two long, white fangs protruded at the top and bottom, which would have passed each other if they had been closed. ‘These are the rules,’ said the mercenary and some of his comrades were already raising their rifles. ‘So hand them over!’

‘And I told your boss I had something valuable,’ Vorrn replied, unmoved despite being against so many and in enemy territory. ‘If he wants it, let’s play by my rules, or are you telling me that hundreds of Fangs are afraid of the big, bad Hishek?’ At his words, the leathery corners of Vorrn’s mouth twitched up and he mockingly bared part of his sharp teeth. ’For my next drinking session, that would be a good joke. The Toothless Fangs.’

‘I’ll give you-!’

‘Why don’t you let him try something,’ said a female Palanian mercenary. ’One false move and we’ll have a reason to shoot him. Then we’ll be rid of him.’

’You want me to let him go on a rampage? All on you then,’ waved the man off and he simply left the group standing there, in rough mercenary fashion. ’I’ll leave the escorting to you. If the boss disposes of you, that’s not my problem.’

‘I’ll take my chances and maybe get a bonus,’ the mercenary said casually, now giving the order. ’All right, you can keep your weapons. Come with me.’

‘It’ll be a hefty bonus,’ Vorrn promised full-bodied as he headed towards the bridge with the Palanian woman and five other mercenaries. Whether the woman would benefit from the bonus for long was another matter, but the Hishek didn’t care. He had completed the first part of his mission and entered the gigantic transporter. The entrance was near the ship’s nose and through a series of guarded, narrow corridors, Vorrn was taken to a high-ranking officers’ mess.

However, there was only one Davoc sitting there, who was not wearing his helmet and had his feet up on a long table. ‘I am Commander Olgan,’ the man greeted without bothering to stand up. ‘What do you have of value to offer to the Greedy Fangs that supposedly couldn’t be said about a port?’

‘At least two million good reasons,’ Vorrn replied sternly. That was his element. No big talk and straight to business. He liked that. ‘Doctor Wolfgang Alexander Schaefer.’

Olgan could hardly care less, or he played it well. ‘Does that name mean anything to me?’

‘Check your bounty list,’ Vorrn said. He paused, his gun arm lowered, not wanting to present an obvious threat to the escort, but the image of the profit-seeking, everyday mercenary. ‘On the blacklist, to be precise.’

‘Oho,’ Olgan nodded. A leading mercenary like him knew what that meant, just like his guest. The blacklist was a sign of the best fighters and came with privileges. Anyone who could use these privileges and had access to the blacklist belonged to the Vernandi, an independent group founded by the Davoc centuries ago, which was popularly known as the Brotherhood of Hunters. As an influential mercenary group and with enough members of their own among the Vernandi, the Fangs also had access to the list and Olgan ran his right hand through the fur on his neck. ’Two million, only death. Client unknown. Not exactly a small amount of foreign currency and you’re willing to give it up voluntarily?’

‘Of course, because I want more,’ Vorrn said as he crossed the room and found a seat at the table opposite the mercenary. ‘Double that and the Fangs can do their usual business with him.’

’I would have expected no less from a member of the Vernandi, but since you know about our business, I have to wonder: without a background, what good is the man to us? How do we turn him into currency?’

Vorrn groaned. ’My throat is parched. It’s better to talk with a cool gamma.’

‘Sure, a gamma for our friend,’ Olgan instructed his men. Thanks to the mess hall, a Talin mercenary was able to quickly fill a real, typical glass jug and place it in front of her boss, who in turn pushed the gamma over. ‘Here’s to good business.’

‘Yes,’ Vorrn nodded, gripping the jug with the pincers of his long, mechanical arm to pour a large gulp down his throat and gasp pleasantly. ’The Doctor worked in a secret PGI research facility from which we rescued him. A difficult, conceited man, but he worked for PGI on the technology of the First and knows many a dirty secret about what goes on in the facility.’

’Liberated, eh? Are you talking about that little incident on Trayden?’

’It was a slaughter, but over far too quickly. It’s amazing that you took notice of that little thing,’ Vorrn obviously understated.

‘What would the galaxy be without good stories that get around?’ Olgan raised his shoulders and while his guest drank, the Davoc indulged in a Satios cigar. ’Although in this case it’s more rumours. The explosion wiped out almost everyone involved, except for that Kysaek, and they’re all keeping quiet about what happened instead of hiring good mercenaries like us to clean up their mess.’

‘Like I said - if you want dirt, the Doctor knows enough.’

Slowly, Olgan began to show genuine interest, but he stroked his chin thoughtfully and the ape-creature’s middle eye widened, behind the thick curtain of red Satios smoke. ’This could be a really good deal, but I don’t think Kysaek is going to rescue that doctor and then sell him to us, are you? You do work for her, right?’

‘She doesn’t,’ Vorrn replied. The remnants of Gamma ran down his jaw and he slammed the empty tankard down on the table so hard that the glass shattered. ’Her way is not what I’m looking for. I thought it was, but we parted ways on Arche and when that mess broke out there, I thought her bounty would be a nice compensation for my trouble with her. However, the woman has a talent, or rather unspeakable luck, when it comes to wriggling out of danger. So I took the next best thing.’

‘That’s only fair,’ Olgan agreed. What reason could he have for not believing Hishek? Neither the Davoc nor the Greedy Fangs had any connection to Kysaek and Vorrn. Should they really have heard about the insignificant story in the lower levels of Central and Vorrn’s treachery against Vincent Luan? Olgan seemed to know nothing about it and saw it from the perspective of his vocation ‘As mercenaries, partnerships end at some point, although I have to tell you that it may already be too late for that.’

‘And why should it be?’

‘Have you ever looked for your own name in the blacklist?’

‘No,’ Vorrn shook his head weakly. There was no reason for him to worry. ’You should know that the Vernandi don’t hunt or extradite their own. In fact, ending up as a bounty on their list is a great honour.’

‘I’m aware of that, but you know our business and I have to tell you that in the end I don’t care about the Vernandi,’ Olgan replied, thinking. He reached to his hip and placed a magnetic pistol on the table. ‘There’s a whopping million for you too, from an unknown client, and I don’t need to be a genius to know the source.’

Vorrn looked at the gun, but instead of showing fear, he gave a little tip: ’Congratulations, you have the brains of a mercenary. Shall we get to the details of the handover then?’

‘I really like you!’ Olgan said, banging his fist on the table before laughing. ’I’ll tell you what. Apart from the fact that we can’t get hold of the doctor without you, at least not that easily, give me one good reason not to take you in and put you in our prison. If you can do that, we can do business.’

‘You do that, lock me up and I’ll find the most valuable prisoners in Hell Gate B and kill them at every opportunity,’ Vorrn replied. He knew exactly where the biggest weak spot in the Greedy Fangs’ business was. ’Maybe not tomorrow or in the next decade, but I will and I have many years ahead of me. The one-off millions and the paltry extortion money for me won’t make up for the damage I’ve done.’

Was it disappointment or amazement on Olgan’s face? It was hard to tell, but the Davoc blew a strong puff of air from his nostrils. ’We’re in business. Where’s the doctor?’

’I’ll stay on board and you give me the flight path. Then we’ll make a rendezvous with the group I’ve hired and they’ll take the doctor to the ship. I’ll get off and he’ll get on.’

‘Why don’t you just bring the doctor here?’

’And risk being intercepted by scum on the way back because the loose mouths of your mercenaries will be talking about the big haul like women at a market stall? Renounce.’

Olgan rattled his fingers on the table, certainly weighing the deal in his mind. An extortionable, multigalactic corporation was a great temptation, however, and the Davoc succumbed. ’It’s a deal. Four million for the doctor and we’ll do it your way. But it will be a while before the launch. I have a serviceable cabin suitable for Hishek, but don’t expect luxury on this ship.’

‘Keep your Genra hole of a cabin,’ Vorrn said, wrenching his lower jaw back and forth. ’Tough business and talk make me hungry. I’m staying here and I want something good to eat.’

‘Is that part of the demand, too?’

‘No, but with a full stomage i´m more sociable.’

Olgan grinned. ‘I hope so,’ he said and stood up. ’If possible, bring our friend what he wants and keep him company. Don’t let him give me a hunger attack and run amok.’

Vorrn left that uncommented. He just watched Olgan leave with most of the mercenaries. Three stayed with the Hishek, but not for company. He realised that he was under guard, but that was expected beforehand. Fortunately, his part in this worthless spectacle was about to end. He didn’t want to be here a second longer than necessary and as soon as Schaefer was on board, Vorrn would be finished. Thinking about the next part of the rescue operation, he had to laugh inwardly, because he didn’t think Kysaek would be able to do it. Nevertheless, he recognised her determination and when she had announced her decision, that was what she was: determined, unyielding and focused. That was the only reason Vorrn had agreed to this rescue operation, which was useless to him. As compensation, he had at least received a surprisingly tasty meal, considering that this was a mercenary prison transport and not a luxury ship. Fresh, hot meat over meat, with delicious sauces and another cool Gamma. There was even a little fish, which Vorrn generally liked, no matter which world it came from. The Hishek was able to hold out until the handover took place a few hours later.

Together with Vorrn and a dozen of his mercenaries, Olgang stood at one of the locked access gates. ‘These flights are usually boring,’ the commander said. ’Rarely, pirates try to capture us or someone comes and wants to free certain prisoners. So this handover is a pleasant change.’

‘And it has nothing whatsoever to do with all the foreign currency,’ commented Vorrn as he looked at the mercenaries. With their weapons pointed at the airlock, the front ranks fell to their knees and those at the back stood still.

‘Let me put it this way: the third prisoner block of this ship is full of known small-time crooks who, between them, will earn us what PGI will probably pay us per standard month for your doctor.’

‘It’s never wise to budget foreign currency you don’t already have,’ Vorrn said, extending his mechanical weapon arm to the commander and activating his grappling pincers. ‘I can do it now, you can’t.’

‘Of course, your payment,’ Olgan nodded. He had a Talin mercenary hand him a steel safebox and opened the code-secured box. ‘As agreed.’

Vorrn took the foreign currency plaque lying in the box. He knew forgeries, a fact that came with his true vocation, but this badge was not one. ‘A good compensation for my time with Kysaek,’ the Hishek mocked and put the payment back in the box, which he took. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

A recognition signal from Vorrn was enough and three masked people came through the airlock, all wearing different armour, in the style of freelance mercenaries. They were not strangers, however, but Stemford and two of his soldiers, cloaked and accompanied by Wolfgang, whose hands were bound by magnetic handcuffs.

‘So that’s the doctor?’ Olgan asked, his middle eye narrowing. ‘He doesn’t look that clever.’

‘Funny, I was just about to say the same thing,’ Wolfgang replied, and as a result, he received a rough push against his back with the butt of a rifle. ‘But you’re no longer alone with these.’

‘You are,’ Olgan countered, nodding to his Hishek guest to complete the exchange. ’But your luck is that we take good care of special cargo. However, if you don’t behave yourself, we’ll break your bones. We just need you alive and not unharmed.’

Vorrn strode forward, just as his mercenaries sent Wolfgang off. ’If you don’t knock out his teeth and break his jaw, he’ll never shut up. Believe me,’ said the Hishek, meaning it word for word, and he saw Wolfgang’s upper lips twist and wrinkles form around his nose. The scientist looked smeared as he walked past Vorrn and whispered -I hate Dorothy and you-, but the Hishek didn’t care. He had done his part and now all he had to do was wait and see if he was wrong in his assessment of part two of the plan, which he didn’t think he was. No, Kysaek would surely die.

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