Untold Stories of a Galaxy - Kysaek: The Beginning
Before the storm - The old men

Welcome and respected, that was just a change for Kysaek. She could move around freely on Anuket, although her visit here was not for pleasure and she had not thought she would be back so soon. However, she desperately needed two things: reinforcements from the consulate and any information on PGI’s defence that Douglas Phonor might have. It was lunchtime, with grey clouds in the sky and windy but moderate snowfall, as her Bolt Dropper approached a mountain-side prison facility a long throw from any towns or villages. She was travelling alone, without much in the way of combat equipment, and was talking to General Akaro via vortex cuff transmission. “Thanks again for letting me visit him, General.”

“A small thing,” Quin replied disdainfully. “Compared to a ship.”

“It will probably take some time for them to get over this. Can you see me? I’ve come to terms with it.”

“It didn’t cost you anything either.”

“Only almost my life,” Kysaek smiled tartly and ran his fingers through his hair. “Is it about the money or why are you so attached to it?”

“Actually, it’s the foreign currency, besides the obvious.”

“Wow, I never thought you were a bean counter.”

The word seemed familiar to the general, a sigh escaping his throat. “In peacetime, a leader has to pay more attention to financial resources than usual. You have responsibilities and if you knew how long I had to fight for this project in front of the elders...”

“I guess I’ll give the ship back in the end, then?” Kysaek offered. However, she wondered if there was anything else to the ship. Was the general really only interested in the cost, the effort and the fact that this modern piece of technology had been handed over to someone else? Perhaps it was simply that. “And look at it from the side: Basically, the ship is still in Consulate hands. The crew is almost entirely Consulate.”

“A reassuring thought, but be careful who you say that to.”

“Of course, I meant those who have left the service and are renegades,” Kysaek nodded, and precisely because she had already received so much from the Consulate, she asked the next question reluctantly and with hesitation. “There wouldn’t happen to be a few more of those, would there?”

“A few more?” Quin listened and immediately suspected the worst.” Has your crew suffered any casualties yet?”

“No, just injuries so far, thankfully.”

“Injuries are healing and your ship is full,” the Palanian noted. He carefully ran his claw over the ridges under his chin. “So you think you can’t win your next battle with the strength you have? Having more soldiers does not mean victory.”

“How often I heard that lesson in the army,” Kysaek murmured, dropping her head back for a moment. “I’m not asking for hundreds either, but I think twenty or thirty more well-trained soldiers are needed for the endeavour. I won’t say any more about a comm link, but we want to end all this with our next battle. That’s why I asked about the secret interrogation and possible isolation of Phonor.”

“So it’s that important, eh. Do you really think that will be the end of it?”

That was the question Kysaek couldn’t even answer for herself since her decision to attack the PGI headquarters. If she could prove her innocence and Skarg’s machinations, would it really be over? That question still had no answer, but there was one thing she desperately hoped for. “I don’t know, General, and I’ve given it a lot of thought. What I do know, however, is that we finally don’t just want to be welcomed bin the Consulate but anywhere else too. We want to set things right.”

Quin nodded his understanding and bowed his head faintly. “I’ll talk to Rila, but I can’t promise anything,” he emphasised straightforwardly. “I understand your desire for freedom and your place in our galaxy all too well, more than you may realise. Everyone wants their place and peace, but we in the Consulate have responsibilities and this could all become very political. The ship and the volunteers came out of our gratitude. But now you are explicitly asking for reinforcements for whatever. If that was to be hearded by the wrong ears.”

“Isn’t the Consulate at baf terms with the Spectrum anyway?”

“Yes, but surely that’s why we don’t give foreign politicians any more reason to escalate tensions, or would you?”

Of course, Kysaek didn’t want to put the consulate in such a predicament and shook his head vehemently. “No, definitely not. I’ve experienced politics at first hand,” she said. She hadn’t thought about it for a long time, about the days of her childhood, but now wasn’t the time or the place. “But let’s not get lost in it. We are grateful for any help and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. I would understand that.”

“Excellent. It’s always important to be able to understand the perspective of others,” the general replied. The thoughtful expression receded from the scaly, stiff features of his face and he tried to ask the following as an aside. “Speaking of skills: How is troop supervisor Akaro doing?”

“Galaen? She handles a lot of things and her wound is healing well, but why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“Because I don’t want to interfere with her duties,” the Palanian said neutrally. “And from commander to commander, the question has just come to you during your duties.”

“Duties, meh. Yes, that’s true,” Kysaek replied. She didn’t believe the general’s explanation, but who was she to interfere in other people’s families? “Thank you again for everything, General. We’re almost there and I’m sure I’ll keep you from your work.”

“My work never ends,” Quin remarked in a point. “I’ll let you know later if help is possible. General Akaro out.”

Sighing, Kysaek leaned back in her seat. The walls around her kept shaking as her Bolt Dropper flew through the cool winds of Anuket. She had hoped for a better response from the general, despite her hesitation. Could a few more soldiers really be that serious? She didn’t think so, but she hadn’t considered the politics beforehand. Including those, Kysak was fully with the general and her expression darkened. She had had more than enough of politics in her life, and for once it wasn’t PGI’s fault. It had been a long time since she had thought back to her childhood days on Central. It had been a place of wonder and adventure for her, with new things to discover and learn every day, and that had been because of her parents’ professions. They had both previously served as soldiers in the Luna Alliance, where they had met and fallen in love. Later, her father joined the diplomatic service and her mother became an officer. The two were a perfect match, as Kysaek’s father worked as a negotiator on Central and her mother was stationed there at one of the various embassy offices on Earth, which is why the family had lived in the upper classes. Nevertheless, her father travelled a lot and was sometimes away for months at a time. That’s why she thought he was an important and sought-after man at the time and why she behaved in a really snappy, arrogant and conceited manner for a while as a teenager. As she grew older, however, she realised that although her father bore enormous responsibility, in his position he was one of tens of thousands of negotiators, alone on Central and responsible for minor matters. Mostly it was about colony projects and over the years Kysaek realised how dirty politics could be. Both from the other side and from her father’s side. “Daddy,” she murmured softly and sadly, like a small child. Her eyes became watery and she put her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Now was really not the time - she needed to think clearly.

The prison was different from the one Kysaek and her people had been locked up in, and despite her hero status in the consulate, she had to surrender her pistol at the first checkpoint in the building. “That’s all I have,” she said after the gun had disappeared into the flap.

“Just a moment,” replied a Davoc guard. She was connected via a holo image next to a side door and blue sensor strips scanned the visitor. “You have clearance. Guard Toros is already waiting for you and will take you to the visitors’ room.”

“Thank you,” nodded Kysaek as the heavy steel door in front of her lifted from the floor and slowly disappeared into the ceiling.

Behind it was the same door again and beyond it stood a Palanian guard, weapon in hand but strapped to his back. “Welcome, I am Guard Toros,” he greeted with a shake of his hand. “It’s a real honour.”

“My pleasure,” Kyxsaek smiled amiably. “So, where’s my former SC1 ... I mean boss?”

“Just eating, but we’ll have him out in a few minutes,” Toros explained, walking with his guest through the clinically clean corridors, which would have been almost identical but for the coloured names and markings of the areas on the walls. “Here, let me show you.”

Kysaek and the attendant entered a raised walkway with a canteen below. “It looks so empty,” she noted, running the numbers. There were perhaps thirty inmates spread around the room, which could easily hold three or four times that number. “Does that speak in favour of a low crime rate?”

“In this league, yes,” Toros murmured guardedly. He looked at the stationary guard bots, who were keeping an eye on the canteen from up here with their shock lances and weapons. “These are the hard cases. We let them eat and leave separately from the rest.”

“The old curmudgeon fits in perfectly.”

“Actually, it’s more for protection,” Toros rebuffed the comment. What he meant by that wasn’t entirely clear.

“Because he has important information?” Kysaek surmised, spotting Douglas. He was sitting and eating alone, wearing a yellow jumpsuit with some kind of barcode on the back.

“As far as I’ve heard, he’s revealed everything he knows,” Toros said. Whether he, as a normal guard, knew exactly what was going on was doubtful, but he made one thing clear. “Actually, there was a lot of trouble with Phonor.”

That made Kysaek grin. “Just like old times. I guess the old man never changes and now you’re stuck with him.”

“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong,” said the guard incredulously, shocked by what followed. “We’re quite fond of him.”

“Excuse me?” Kysaek was equally taken aback. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Quite the opposite. Thanks to him, the drugs business has gone down, he’s prevented a few murders and got us an important statement for a current case. The man is a machine.”

“The man’s a prick up the arse,” grumbled Kysaek, crossing her arms. “If he’s so great, why is he on special shift now? Did he step on the wrong people’s toes?”

“Yes, the potential danger was immense.”

Kysaek lifted her chin. “Luckily you got him to safety.”

“No, no,” Toros shook his head and gripped the railing in front of him with both hands. “We’re protecting the prisoners from him. They want to kill him, yes, but that led to more overcrowded wards and we’re still wondering what happened to Norg’s tentacle.” At the next memory, Toros couldn’t quite hide a touch of black humour. “I say yes, the tentacle ended up in the deep fryer. My friend thinks Phonor let him eat it. The only certainty is that he used it to whip Norg and almost strangle another prisoner.”

Inwardly irritated, Kysaek listened to Toros’ explanation. The Palanian didn’t really know Phonor, so she didn’t blame the guard for speaking so highly of him. She knew better, though: busting drug deals? Protecting innocent people? - Certainly not. Kysaek was not fooled: The old man was rigorous in his pursuit of his duties and surely only wanted to lull the guards into a sense of security. “New trouble?” Kysaek asked as a Davoc approached Phonor’s table.

“Possibly,” Toros nodded and raised a hand. “Bots, watch out.”

The ape creature was a mountain of muscle, though he didn’t come close to Dorvan. Its nostrils were also completely twisted and freshly scarred. “Phonor,” the davoc puffed.

Douglas showed no fear, no defensive emotion and continued to eat unconcernedly as he looked up at the hairy mountain of flesh. The only question now was: who would strike first?

The Davoc grimaced and tensed. His nostrils quivered heavily as he exhaled and he gritted his teeth. “Can I have the sauce, please?”

Phonor wiped his mouth and looked at the plastic bottle next to his plate. He wordlessly pushed it a little away from him and the Davoc took it before quietly backing away from the table.

“What the hell was that?” Kysaek asked, perplexed. She had expected a different situation.

“That was Gramal,” said Toros and ordered the bots back to normal mode. “His nose didn’t look like that a week ago, but he must have had a disagreement with Phonor when he was out on the farm. I think it was about a corner sheltered from the wind.”

“I see - can we go slowly then, please?”

“Sure, come on,” nodded Toros. He led his guest onwards and stopped in front of a narrow sliding door labelled Visitor Room in blue. “I’ll wait out here. Phonor will be here soon and no one will disturb you.”

“Thank you Toros,” Kysaek replied and stepped into the room. There were a lot of round tables surrounded by chairs and the grey daylight filtered in through a long row of windows that were steamed up at the corners. The room was pleasantly warm, but the view of the snowfall made Kysaek shiver, so she rubbed her elbows and crossed her arms. When she heard the sliding door open, she didn’t bother to turn round. A few footsteps sounded and a chair was moved and someone sat down on it, but Kysaek didn’t turn round.

Silence fell and only from outside did the cold wind whistle audibly past the window until a faint crash hit the table. “Here I am,” Douglas’s voice murmured. “To be honest, I’m rather surprised that you’ve taken so long to do this. It must all go down like oil to you.”

“I didn’t come back just to gloat, even though I think your current situation is absolutely deserved.”

“How mature of you. Would you have the kindness and courtesy to look at me and tell me what you want from me?”

“Are you in a hurry?” Kysaek grinned against the slightly reflective glass. “Full diary, eh? Where are you off to here? Central? To the beach?”

“Your cocky attitude is one of the reasons why I’ve never liked you and never will. You’re reckless and without discipline and I pity all those who have rallied round you.”

“They’re better people than you, you grumpy arsehole,” Kysaek grumbled, giving the former SC1 what he wanted. Her eyes finally met his. “And if I didn’t have to be, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Spare me your whingeing,” Douglas said. His hands and forearms were pressed together with a magnetic handcuff and he was currently sitting in a chair at the back of the room with his back to the corner. “This is going off my free time, so spit it out: What do you want?”

Kysaek was stealing the prisoner’s free time? She had to go through that when she arrived on Anuket too. Oh how sweet was temptation for her to tease the old bastard, but she couldn’t allow herself that. “Give you a chance,” she replied and took a seat at the same table, heaving her left foot onto a vacant chair. “Tell me everything you know about the defence of the PGI headquarters. Especially about the central tower. This is your chance for a little redemption.”

“Redemption would require remorse, little daredevil,” Dogulas replied without emotion. The following look from him, however, was very penetrating and he leaned forwards a little. “And you can only have remorse if you’ve failed.”

“You’re in prison. You can’t fail any more. You’re out of the game.”

“I’m just stuck, like you are now. The difference is that I have what you need,” Douglas said, and unfortunately he wasn’t wrong. He may have been stuck, but he wasn’t alone and showed an unusual, if spiteful, interest in the question. “You want information about the main PGI site? For what purpose? To take the terror back to the source?”

“You still believe that crap? Seriously? At least I used to think you were smart, a bastard, but not stupid and not a better lapdog,” Kysaek recalled. According to the interrogation of Phonor’s right-hand man, the old man had not been privy to PGI’s machinations. “And you’re still clinging to this lie - how obvious does it have to be? I’m not the bad guy in this story!”

Douglas’s wrinkled face grimaced and he even laughed heartily. “I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” he asked. He had never grinned like that before, let alone laughed, and that was strange. He seemed to take pleasure in the precarious situation. “My little girl, it’s incredible that you’ve come this far with your attitude and that after the whole interrogation protocol you’re still singing the tale of the common, blue-eyed hunter who blindly carried out the orders of a tentacle head. Grow up. "

“Your lieutenant told us everything! I still have his interrogation in my head! You were only good for PGI’s media campaign and a blunt instrument in the execution of various tasks. If that’s not naive...”

“I had my reasons, yes,” Douglas asserted and let his jaw drop. His mocking attitude didn’t disappear completely, but he still took the conversation seriously. “Tell me, you’re talking about Brandon’s interrogation. What about mine?”

“About yours? What are you talking about?”

“The palanian woman didn’t say anything? And you didn’t read the report on me?”

“I knew what I needed to know,” Kysaek said snippily. Douglas had been nothing more than a puppet, a stubborn old man who probably wanted to hark back to past days of glory. That was enough for her to know. “I didn’t care that you let yourself be used.”

“My little girl, i-”

“Cut the crap! I’m not your little girl!”

“Squeeze your arse together and stop crying like a little girl,” Douglas replied, unimpressed and harsh. He wasn’t going to be told. “Because if you had done your job instead, you might be wiser and know why I did what I did. After the destruction of Facility A and B and what was suddenly told, I was extra on my guard. I didn’t trust Peeks for a second, never did before and wanted to know what was behind it all, just like you. That’s why I have no regrets.”

Was that a trick? What was Douglas talking about? It sounded to Kysaek like he was fighting his own battle against PGI. She at least remembered his record, which was full of praise and his successes in the war and that Phonor was a righteous man. However, she also remembered him making ruthless decisions and doing anything to fulfil a mission. That’s why she didn’t believe him. “You told Galaen and the Consulate that?” Kysaek replied, looking around. “It doesn’t look like they believed your fairy tale.”

“And you were in their prison for fun?” the old soldier asked, taking a deep, satisfied breath.

“That was only temporary. The Consulate is a just place and released me.”

“As it was with you, so it will be with me, because an opportunity is knocking at my door,” Douglas said, leaning his upper body forward confidently as he propped himself up on his arms. “You want information about the PGI compound? That can only mean an attack. I’ll give you what you want if you let me come with you.”

“No way!” hissed Kysaek. “I’m not falling for your lies. If we take you with us, we’ll walk into a PGI-orchestrated trap and everything we’ve fought for will be for nothing.”

“You think you’d die there because of me? I don’t need PGI for that.”

Kysaek suddenly pulled himself up. “Oh yeah?” she said angrily. Her right hand was bursting with prismatic energy. “Just try it!”

Douglas remained motionless in his seat, but his eyes were extremely quick and alert. “Little girl, I’ve just eaten.”

“That was obvious! Just hot air!” said Kysaek, reaching out with her energised hand to give this big shot a well-deserved thrashing. “Come on! Show me!”

“I guess we’ll have to go through with it,” Douglas groaned, annoyed and sober, and suddenly he kicked the table in front of him forward out of his seat. The furniture caused his interviewer to do an unintentional somersault onto the floor and suddenly he had his knee on her fragile neck.

Kysaek literally lost her breath and wriggled helplessly in her panic. There was an ominous cracking sound and she felt that there was only a millimetre between suffocation and a broken neck, her eyes going white and soon she was close to fainting.

“Phonor!” shouted Toros, after he had stormed into the room a few moments later armed with a Calanian guard and aimed at the prisoner. “Stop it now!”

The overturned table lay almost perfectly and the remaining furniture also offered some protection. Douglas had the opportunity. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, raising his arms as he stood up gingerly. “I just wanted to help her up - right, little girl?”

Just then, the fallen woman was struggling to breathe and coughing unhealthily. Toros came to her and got down on his knees. “Do you need a doctor?” he asked and his colleague secured the prisoner, who offered no resistance.

Kysaek crawled around on all fours, not knowing where to go or what had happened. “I-I,” she gasped. Her face was bright red and she stared suspiciously up at Douglas. At that moment, she cursed the man in her mind like never before and feared him at the same time - that wouldn’t happen to her a second time! “No, no, no. I must have fallen off my chair somehow.”

“Are you sure about that?” Toros doubted and pointed his gun at the prisoner.

“Y-yes, really. Please, leave him here ... I’m not finished with him yet.”

Toros sighed. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like the trouble at all. “Let him go,” he instructed the Calanian guard and returned outside. “If you need us, you know where we are.”

Back in togetherness, Douglas put everything he had knocked over back in place and took a seat. “Me needing PGI,” he smirked, knowing his superiority, but that was as far as it went. He avoided any mockery and showed no anger. “You want to attack the corporation, don’t you?”

“We do,” Kysaek murmured less cheekily. She rubbed her neck and her breathing calmed, stopping and keeping her distance from the seated man. “I’m sure there’s incriminating evidence in the main building.”

“That would be very bold of Peeks.”

“Anywhere else, perhaps. But in the expanses, corporations enjoy enormous advantages, especially when it comes to their rights. I mean, they were running an illegal research lab right underground.”

“It was camouflaged. That was different.”

“PGI is one big cloak and I noticed something there,” Kysaek said. Maybe it was because she hadn’t looked too hard for every tiny detail or hidden meaning, but everyone else was surprised by her realisation. She found it difficult to reveal this to Douglas, however. Even after his demonstration, which could have ended everything. After all the lies, could this still be a trick or had Kysaek become paranoid after all? “Your right hand man Brandon and a few prisoners we’ve taken recently have one thing in common. On a few occasions, they had to appear before Skarg in person and they always had secret information with them. And all the goods and information picked up by second parties have to end up somewhere. What better place than an area where corporations enjoy the freedom of fools?”

Douglas seemed astonished. “Hm, can´t see the forest for the trees. Who came up with the idea? The scientist?”

“No, that was mine. What does it matter?”

“None at all. I’m just surprised,” Douglas confessed. He had apparently had his thoughts, which he shared without bias. “After the destruction of the underground facilities, I would never have thought of it or that there was anything relevant left on Cipi at all.”

“It’s certainly a better alternative than our endless search in a seemingly endless galaxy,” Kysaek sighed and sat down on the edge of another table. For a fleeting moment, she felt as if she could talk to the man, “But we need your help to see if there’s anything to it, or this could be our last mission.”

“Your tenacity is truly admirable, in all respects, and for that I’ll give you this one clue: the central PGI data processing centre is located on the hundred and fortieth floor of the main building. If it’s anything like you think it is, you’ll find everything there,” Douglas surmised, but his expression stiffened noticeably. The man had his price. “If you want to know more about the site, you know my condition.”

“Even if I’d never met you and you hadn’t worked for PGI, I wouldn’t bring you on board. Would you put a complete stranger in charge of something this important?”

“No, but the question doesn’t arise because I’m not a complete stranger,” Douglas argued. He refused to let go and pressed his hands firmly on the table. “You know what I know, what I can do and who I am.”

“The only thing I know for sure is that you are a risk factor. Just the fact that I have to trust your information is risky enough, but it’s better than going in blind.”

“Then scout the area yourself.”

“We can’t risk that. Our attack must be completely unforeseen.”

Douglas was not interested in endless discussion, a man of strict things. “Then your attack will be as mindless as it is surprising. Are we finished then? I want my day off and then to read in my cell.”

“You’re still an arse,” Kysaek grumbled grumpily. “You can’t get what you want and you’re being obnoxious? Things don’t always go your way.”

“That makes two of us. Life is an unfair whore.”

“Unfair, eh?” Kysaek replied and turned away. It seemed pointless to continue talking to the man and she turned away from him, thinking of Douglas’ so-called career. “You know, you have this thick file full of commendations and comments on your upright character. Even the warden Toros told me how you clean up the prison. Also, you tell this fairy tale about working against PGI - I’m not aware of that. If you really want justice and know what it means to make sacrifices, then you would renounce your will and tell me everything.” She waited briefly, hoping to get through to the prisoner, but nothing came and Kysaek strode towards the exit.

“Little girl, wait,” Douglas murmured thoughtfully.

Kysaek was already feeling like a winner inside. “Gotcha,” she thought and looked back. “What?”

“My prize is unchanged.”

“Do you think that’s funny?” asked Kysaek. She was about to burst her collar. “I said nev-!”

“Shut up and listen: The price remains the same, but I’ll give you an advance. I’ll give you as much information as I can. If you survive this and succeed, I want you to get me out of prison.”

“That’s not my decision, it’s the Consulate’s. I’m not the judge.”

“No, you’re the hero. Your word carries weight here.”

“And you think doing something good once is enough?” Kysaek doubted. If she had her way, the old man would have to do much more than make amends. “I would call it a start.”

“I’m coming to meet you, but you remain stubborn. You’re talking about justice? Then show me the way I want to show you.”

That was a difficult decision, at least for Kysaek. She was supposed to get him out of prison? And what next? Take him into the crew? A ludicrous thought, and it should remain so. However, she had one simple alternative - to lie to him. Douglas had always treated her like dirt, apart from the short time after the PGI promotion and before the second terrorist attack. Perhaps this was her moment to pay him back and it was only fair for her. Lies after lies had been spread about Kysaek and she had been branded a terrorist. Now there was a good portion of karma, she thought, but she wasn’t allowed to show it to the man. “If and, I say if, we succeed thanks to your information, I will talk to the general.”

“Do I have your word?” Douglas asked firmly.

“You have, absolutely.”

Douglas tapped a finger hesitantly on the table. Had he recognised the lie? “All right, let’s talk,” he agreed. “I’d like a nice cup of tea, though. It’s not so easy to get luxury in prison.”

“Tea...?”

“Yes.”

Kysaek sighed. “All right. How would you like it?”

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