Untold Stories of a Galaxy - Kysaek: The Beginning

Act: 9 The Battle of Trident Three

“There’s a new one coming in,” Selok announced from his pilot’s seat. “Decline, with or without cancellation?”

Kysaek stood at the holo projector. “I think it’s time to block everything coming in,” she sighed exhaustedly. It wasn’t just the attack on PGI that had exhausted her. “Do it, Selok. All communication is suspended until further notice, outgoing and incoming.”

“With the greatest pleasure,” replied the Nebula’s main helmsman and made the necessary entries. “Ah, that’s much better.”

“Remind me to thank the general after we arrive,” Kysaek said sarcastically, looking beside her.

“I think he had hoped for something different,” Galaen replied appraisingly, although she was equally unenthusiastic. “Still, I think he should have asked us about the comm signature first.”

“Yes, he should have,” Kysaek agreed and grinned. “I wonder if this is his way of getting revenge for the ship?”

“No, definitely not,” Galaen politely defended her father. “This kind of game is beneath him.”

“Relax. I wasn’t being serious.”

“Well, not my kind of humour,” Galaen clarified as respectfully as possible. “But in a few hours, you can ask him yourself why he did it.”

“Yes, that’s on my list,” Kysaek said, crossing her arms. Almost four days had passed since her attack on the PGI headquarters. After the attack, she had the Nebula taken to a remote area so that the dust could settle a little. At the same time, she had the technicians and Dorvan disseminate the explosive recordings in which Skarg Peeks wanted to carry out Aurani’s destruction. Of course, even now there were still doubts about the authenticity of the recording, but the fire had been ignited and dominated much of the media. The Calanian himself had not yet made an appearance and there were only statements from company spokespeople and other board members who wanted to bring the sensitive issue under control. At the same time, the Nebula had been receiving constant communication requests for over a day, as the Consulate had released the ship’s signature frequency. Why the government had done this was still unclear. Only that it had been done had been announced in a terse text message from General Akaro. Since then, other governments, companies, the press and clever mercenaries who wanted to find the Nebula had been flooding the ship with requests, which were now completely blocked. It was just too much at once and Kysaek didn’t need that right now. Not with what seemed to be on the horizon and why she was on her way back to Anuket, among other things. Of course, there was more reason, because even if she didn’t want it at first and had to be persuaded, there was a promise that needed to be honoured. “Let’s walk a little further.”

“Walk?”

“Yes, a quick chat between us,” said Kysaek and walked towards the bridge exit.

“Of course,” came back Galaen curtly as she followed. “Selok - you have the bridge!”

The pilot raised his right hand without looking back. “Understood.”

The pace in the corridor was leisurely and Galaen enquired. “What do you want to talk about?”

“The crew,” Kysaek noted. She could talk freely here, but even when no one was around, she kept a low profile. “Has everyone recovered from the losses?”

“Well, luckily we didn’t have many and everyone knew what they were getting into. Still, some losses hurt more than others, but as far as I can tell, everyone’s coped for now.”

Kysaek understood that all too well. Such scars, when friends fell, would remain forever. Sometimes better, sometimes worse. “And our proud warrior?”

“Doesn´t stop talking,” Galaen reported positively. “This experience was apparently more than satisfying for Vorrn and a good point to build on in order to integrate himself much better into the team.”

“I’ll never understand this fascination with violence and fighting,” Kysaek admitted reluctantly, but she wouldn’t want to stop the Hishek. “But maybe it’s just a cultural thing, I hope.”

“As long as it doesn’t get out of hand, I guess,” Galaen added. The soldier in her was always present. “Not that this ship will give the wrong impression to outsiders any time soon.”

“I mean, even some humans revel in brutal violence, but this is disgusting. No, I’d rather hope that this is Hishek culture, and as you say, as long as it doesn’t get too extreme.”

“Indeed it does. Anything else?”

“Well, about that thing again, about him,” Kysaek sighed as the two arrived at the lift tube and she summoned the lift by pressing a button. “I’m not happy about it.”

“That’s what your position entails,” Galaen said, standing tautly a few paces away from the tube. “Of course you can refuse, because you’re leading, but what kind of example would that set for the team?”

“I know yes, I know yes. It’s just good to be able to express my displeasure again.”

“You have a personal history with the man, the rest don’t - it’s understandable and sometimes you have to release anger, but personally I prefer practical things to channel that pent-up energy into something useful. Training, reading material, a good duel. You should try that sometime.”

“Sounds exciting,” Kysaek replied less seriously. “But I’d rather close my eyes in bed and hope I wake up less stressed.”

“Simple, but possible,” Galaen doubted, but still carried out her task as a supporting officer. “If you’re still complaining about it after your sleep, I’m available for the aforementioned duel. Far better than us draining each other with words.”

Kysaek laughed briefly. “Message received,” she said. Had the Palanian just politely told her that the constant complaining was annoying? Yes, Kysaek understood and tried to restrain herself. “Get a good night’s sleep, though.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged. Quiet hours, I hope.”

After a nice, hot shower, it was more than a good night’s sleep for Kysaek. Restful and re-energised, she was ready for her next stage after the Nebula had reached the planet Anuket and she made her way to the ship’s hangar. On the one hand, she wanted to fly to the consulate capital with one of the Bolt Droppers, but at the same time she wanted to welcome a new crew member beforehand, albeit reluctantly.

Although the crew had been told beforehand not to make a big spectacle of it, some of the crew had gathered in the hangar in their free time alongside the hangar workers to watch the Bolt Dropper land.

Kysaek took a deep breath. “The duelling thing,” she breathed out heavily. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

“Yes?” Galaen listened up. “I’m at your disposal.”

“I didn’t mean with you...” Kysaek remarked and fixed her gaze on the opening hatch.

Unarmed, but free and in civilian clothes, the rustic and fit Douglas Phonor took his first step onto the Nebula. With his striking and hard features, the old soldier let his eyes wander briefly, more out of routine than genuine interest, but in the end his full attention was focussed on the commander of the ship, towards whom he now walked slowly but steadily.

At first, Kysaek waited silently, even as the new crew member stood at an appropriate distance in front of her. She didn’t say a word, just like him, but Kysaek had to get this over with and pressed her lips together. “Phonor.”

“Little girl.”

“My name is Kysaek,” Kysaek emphasised calmly. “So please do me the favour of using it. After all, I’ve kept my word.”

“And I keept mine, otherwise you probably wouldn’t be standing here,” Douglas countered calmly, not allowing the man’s self-confidence a gap. “So let’s see where this takes us.”

“If I had my way, straight to the airlock,” Kysaek replied honestly. Restraining was easier said than done, but she had promised and tried. “But, a word is a word. However, should you give us even a teeny-tiny reason. We understand each other?”

“My language exactly,” Douglas nodded. He knew it, like Kysaek. He had already shown who was the stronger of the two on Anuket. Here, however, it was all of them, a whole team, and Douglas showed no intention of confrontation or undermining authority. At least nothing too obvious, and probably out of experience and habit alone, he went along with the existing structure. “And I understand you don’t just speak that language. You’ve actually done it.”

“We all have, yes ... With a little outside help.”

“Nullity - results?”

“Follow the news,” Kysaek waved off the conversation, also for a plausible reason and not just unwillingness. “Or exchange with XO Akaro if she wants to reveal highly sensitive information to a stranger. I have an important meeting on Anuket.”

“I’m sure she’ll speak my language even better,” Douglas whispered with conviction when his eyes met the Palanian woman’s. “If she’s anything like your father.”

“Here I am first officer of the Nebula and nobody’s daughter,” Galaen replied briskly and took a step forwards, leaving no doubt as to what she was saying. “Is that understood, soldier Phonor?”

Douglas tilted his head almost imperceptibly, but not out of scepticism. He had probably expected exactly that and took a stance. “Of course, ma’am.”

“Excellent, then come with me and I’ll explain some details of the current situation.”

With Galaen and the rest on board, Kysaek could leave the Nebula with confidence, even if she still wasn’t convinced that Phonor’s admission had been wise. Perhaps everyone was right and it was simply a personal, perhaps childish, resentment that Kysaek needed to overcome. On the other hand, that didn’t mean that everyone trusted the old soldier implicitly, and they had made that clear when it had come to the subject of Phonor and honouring Kysaek’s promise, which she had resisted for some time. However, things were as they were now and there were more important things to attend to. Far more important, because what Dorvan had reported meant more than just disaster and Kysaek wanted to convince the Consulate of that. What lay ahead of the Nebula was no task for a strike force or a few more helping hands - it needed a powerful fleet, which was why Kysaek was on her way to the capital of Anuket, the showpiece of Vinovae. She was already expected in the government tower, which was not a given despite her deeds, especially when it came to the time of the Council of Thirteen, the highest authority in the Consulate. However, Kysaek was able to convince General Akaro of the urgency of her request and he organised the upcoming meeting.

In the already familiar council chamber, where Kysaek One was asked for her assistance, the thirteen elders of the Consulate government sat and waited. “Elaine Kysaek,” Elder Rila took over the warm greeting as she rose from her broad and sturdy chair. “It is a real pleasure to see you again after such a short time.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Elder,” Kysaek returned the greeting, not looking at General Akaro. “Although I wish the circumstances were better.”

At this terse but friendly exchange, the remaining twelve members of the Elder Council rose as well, one from each species, and a Scyth, with a silver, softly crafted head collar and white robes over his synthetic body, voiced thoughtful concern. “That could truly be you. Ever since your attack on Cipi, they’ve all been coming to us for answers we don’t have.”

“Answers? To what?” Kysaek enquired, looking for a seat at the table. However, as the table in the centre of the room was round, shared equally and without favouritism, she simply remained standing near Rila and her chair.

“Like why we support such acts,” the Scyth mentioned. He was not typically reproachful, as many politicians were wont to be, but the wariness in him was present. “We are aware of your services to us and are grateful to you. It’s just hard to convince others when something like what happened on Cipi happens.”

“Do you have to convince others? You know I have nothing bad in mind. That’s all it takes.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not that simple, Kysaek,” Rila regretted and raised her hand. She was apparently trying to stop the elders from rushing straight into the subject, while the voluminous Eporanian sank back into her chair. “But to reassure you right away: We have no intention of imposing any consequences on you.”

“That depends,” murmured a Davoc whose fur was pitch black.

Kysaek looked at him. “On what?”

“Elder Rila and Elder Mognor are extremely prudent,” said the Davoc, to whom the word elder did not really apply. In fact, a good half of those present seemed to be middle-aged or older. “I mean you no harm, of course, but General Akaro promised us answers that we could pass on to various organisations. The last few months have been difficult anyway, with many a different government. We don’t need any more rifts and you’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen. right?”

“The general promised answers,” Kysaek repeated. Quin had probably had to lay it on a bit thick to get this audience and the commander’s statement wasn’t entirely a lie, but Kysaek wasn’t really here to justify herself and save herself from any politicos. Damage limitation, however, was apparently unavoidable for her. “Of course. The Consulate has given me an enormous amount of help and I don’t want you to get into trouble because of my crew and me, Elder ... ?”

“Orath.”

“Elder Orath,” Kysaek nodded in deference. Phrases she had learnt from her father. Unfortunately, there was no such thing as name tags here. “I’m sure you remember where the Nebula went after we left?”

“I’m just reading it again,” Orath said, with an open holo display on his part of the table. “You left for Arche to follow up a supposed lead on alleged PGI machinations.”

“And do you know what happened there?”

“No.”

“Curious,” Kysaek grinned wryly. “Of course a report like that wouldn’t be publicised, when it was far more serious. But forgive me, I don’t want to deviate now. The fact is, we didn’t find what we had hoped for on Arche. There was only one new clue that would have led us to a communication station. However, since we knew nothing about this station, except that it is certainly well protected and lacked the necessary strength to storm it, and because we were tired of searching for clues, we decided to attack the PGI headquarters.”

Orath waited, but after that explanation, he seemed moderately convinced. “That’s the explanation? That’s what you want us to reveal?”

“At least it’s part of it. We hoped that with the PGI data centre there, we would finally find the evidence we needed to give voice to the list of long-known and unknown charges against the company.”

“Nicely put. But since you’re here instead of at the Central Spectrum, I assume you didn’t find anything?”

“Mr Peeks prevented that, I’m afraid,” Kysaek sighed idly, but her head stayed up. “We were right outside the door of the data centre, but he destroyed it.”

“So you have nothing but the immense damage and all the lives lost?”

“With all due respect, Elder Orath, but what do you call Peek’s statements about the destruction of Auranis? Isn’t that enough?”

“PGI has survived much clearer cases that went against the company,” the elder recalled. It didn’t fail because of his faith, but because of the public’s. “I’m totally with you, but we lack any context in this statement and PGI is capitalising on that. Why would Peeks destroy Auranis in the first place? No matter if earlier than planned. What’s the point of it all?”

“Unfortunately, Orath is right,” Rila said regretfully, leaning her upper body forward and supporting the massive structure with her elbows on the sturdy table. “Mr Peeks has everything you could want, from a social point of view. To charge him with that statement is difficult.”

Kysaek held back, but she couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have our way here, otherwise you would never hear me say such things. Unfortunately, the expanses in which Cipi lies are an area with generous rights for corporations and have never been known for their fairness. Besides, Skarg Peeks has many friends in politics, powerful friends.”

“Let’s see how much longer,” Kysaek announced, raising her left arm with the vortex cuff on it. “May I have access to the projector?”

“Of course,” Rila nodded, while the rest of the elders fell into mumbles after the announcement.

“Thank you,” Kysaek replied, transferring a data packet to the table’s holo projector. “I apologise in advance. This is the recording of Dorvan, a hacker from my team. Incidentally, he saved Auranis by defusing Peeks’ bomb. Unfortunately, he doesn’t feel comfortable in any company and because he’s not feeling so well at the moment, he didn’t want to talk about a comm or port connection in front of you all. That’s why we recorded his statement.”

The face of Dorvan, the real one and not his machine, appeared above the holo projector. Not visible, but audible, was Kysaek’s voice in the recording. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m getting there,” the Davoc nodded. His face was marked by exhaustion and where he usually spoke so precisely and almost mechanically, he was now a little confused. “Even if it still hurts.”

“Take it easy and explain again what this was like for you and what you could take away.”

“Skarg Peeks,” Dorvan began. He recapped the events at PGI headquarters, where he had done far more than just save the city. “When you said he wasn’t in his office and was on a link. I reacted immediately and joined the conversation. A natural reflex of mine.”

“A good instinct. It allowed you to prevent him from detonating the bomb.”

“That may be, but the bomb was basically nothing compared to my experience during the connection and even now, I can only piece together fragments,” Dorvan faltered. Even the technicians, even Wolfgang, had had difficulty following his explanation before this recording. “The impressions I took with me were mostly subconscious. I had to fight too hard against the endless stream.”

Kysaek gently helped. “You’re talking about this apparent space station, Trident Three.”

“Yes,” Dorvan said with awe. Digital worlds were normally his domain, where no one could hold a candle to him so quickly, but right now he was showing uncertainty. “I certainly got that from the connection, Trident Three. A hideous space station, I’m sure of it.”

“Hideous? Why hideous?”

“I know you’re not particularly tech-savvy,” Dorvan stopped short. It wasn’t easy for him to find a comprehensible explanation and his sentences sounded correspondingly strange. “And even if you were, my head, things often happen there. Even I sometimes find it hard to categorise them and when I was connected to Trident Three, that was a completely new and overwhelming experience. It doesn’t last long, thankfully, but in that short time it was like something was stabbing my head with sharp needles, sending little electric shocks through my body and a mass that wanted to bury me. These weren’t technicians defending the connection. Not just. I had to flee.”

“Flee? From what?” asked Kysaek. Even now, knowing the statement already and merely re-recording it for the consulate, she didn’t quite get it. “You’re not talking about the headquarters, right?”

“No, no - the station. while I was connected. You could say my mind was attacked from all sides and I was chased through some system there. An endless stream of darkness pursued me, engulfing everything in its path. Call it a flood.”

“And while you fled, you subconsciously absorbed the crude schematics of Triden Three?”

“Yes, it can’t be any other way. The images in my head can’t have come from any other source,” Dorvan said for a moment, more than convinced, and a new image began to appear next to the recording of his face. “Here, take a look at it.”

The schematic wasn’t exactly detailed. Above all, it showed the rough shape of the space station in question, but not its exact structure. A cylinder-shaped structure made up the majority of the facility. At both ends, this shape converged into sharp, deflecting points and, in addition, the lower third was surrounded by an extra-wide ring, like a firmly attached belt. From this massive part, at an exact distance of 120 degrees, three more not quite as long, but extensive and identical parts of the station protruded. They resembled slightly curved L’s lying on their backs with a square outer shell.

Kysaek murmured in the recording. “Now can you explain what exactly makes this station so hideous?”

“The First,” Dorvan pronounced, paralysed. The fact that PGI worked with the forbidden technology was no longer a secret to Kysaek’s group, but it still took a few moments before the Davoc ended his oppressive silence. “This construction was built with the technology of the First.”

Kysaek murmured emphatically. “Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” the hacker assured him, while more than a few worried faces appeared on the elders’ faces. Graphics appeared in the recording, showing wavelengths and digital components, which may have been confusing to the normal eye at first, but not unpleasant. “I’ve never seen signals like this before. Seen in recordings, yes, but not experienced. What you see here is not from any species in our galaxy.”

“Seen in records? Which one? PGI?”

“No, in the past. There are treatises and information in the Virtual System, including official ones, but the official ones are old war records. After all, it’s forbidden technology these days,” said Dorvan, and where the image of the station had been before, a second graphic now appeared on the screen, showing one and the same thing as the first. However, both holograms soon showed fleeting flashes of red bouncing between the data streams and an eerie green colour flickered in the waves. “I described my experiences to Doctor Schaefer. I knew that no one else had the necessary knowledge and intellect to deal with it and he recognised it immediately. After all, he had been forced to work on it and recognised the patterns from recent work. From the remains of this beast, Project Z.” It was the conclusion of the data when a series of texts and pictures followed, documenting Wolfgang’s work on the piece of the beast that he was allowed to take from the consulate. All the more astonishing were Dorvan’s last words in the recording, clear and decisive. “There is no doubt - this station is of a terrible nature, the technology of the First. It must be destroyed.”

Everything above the holo projector vanished and as the now tense Elders stared at the blank space of the previous images, Kysaek kept his voice tight and dry. “How is it - does Skarg still have powerful friends now?”

Some of the elders looked aghast at the heroine of the Consulate. They probably saw this question as bad humour and suddenly almost everyone at the table was talking in confusion, so that hardly a word could be understood at first.

“This is a threatening situation!” said Orath, pointing at the projector. “Is that really a secured information?”

Between the verbal, incomprehensible confusion, the Talin elder made herself heard. “How is that possible? How could PGI build such a station undetected?”

“Space is big enough to hide!” argued the Skyth Elder Mognor. “You’ve just seen the proof!”

“Proof, perhaps!” agreed the Talin Elder, but she waved her finger in the air. “But this piece alone is not enough! Besides, it would hardly convince anyone else!”

“So we’re supposed to ignore it?”

“That’s not what I said!”

Among the elders, more to himself, a Galig with faded, blue skin murmured. “The First must have him under control. Skarg Peeks is lost and must be stopped.”

There was no end to the commotion until Rila raised her heavy body. “Now, now!” she tried to placate the council. “Please, dear elders! Let’s keep calm and tackle this difficult issue with reason and not with loud voices!”

It helped and the mood returned to normal, but the tension was now in the air and Kysaek took the floor. “Dear elders, no one can ignore this. We had initially considered flying to the coordinates and providing them with corroborating evidence. However, we did not want to forewarn PGI and assume that they do not yet know that we know the location of Trident Three.”

“That’s the real reason you’re here, right?” Orath surmised after this statement and ran his fingers through the fur on his head. “You want our help?”

“That’s the main reason for my return, yes,” Kysaek nodded, patting the side of her heart as she took General Akaro’s defence. “I’m sorry if I lied a little. However, this topic was too volatile for me to bring up over a comm or a text message.”

“Definitely explosive,” agreed the Davoc elder, slapping his hands on the table. “But what exactly do you expect us to do now?”

“That you recognise the urgency of this matter,” said Kysaek honestly. She now had to play with her cards completely face up and wanted to ensure that there was no skirting around the issue. “I saw the righteousness of the Consulate, a free and brave people! But it needs more than those things - it needs your fleet.”

“But of course!” the Galig elder immediately spoke in favour. “Any hesitation means danger for the entire galaxy!”

“So’Zil!” Orath replied, turning his eyes to the Galig. “No one doubts the importance of this matter, but we can’t mobilise the fleet without further ado! What kind of picture do you think that would make?”

“One of action!”

“When we’re not doing particularly well with Central and some people?” questioned the Orath. Political pitfalls lurked everywhere and all the time, but he endeavoured to take a diplomatic approach rather than an active one. “Instead, we should share this information with Central! If the Spectrum sends out the Rangers and High Sentinels, we’ve helped and not caused a provocation. If you ask me, a good idea!”

After the commotion at the table, the Calanian elder reacted quite calmly, yet firmly against the suggestion. “If this gets caught up in the mills of bureaucracy and the Spectrum, I fear delayed action. Mr Peek’s allies could also put themselves before him.”

“The High Sentinels won’t be interested in that,” Orath was sure. He stood up, wrapped in his colourful, finely crafted and Davoc-typical Dashiki robes. “They are not too political a force. There are enough of the Sentinels who prefer practical solutions to talk. At the latest when Enar Piéren hears about it, something will happen. He averted a catastrophe once before and he will do so again.”

The elder’s suggestion did not sound illogical, Kysaek thought. If only because of Enar Piéren, who had taken the reins in the Punisher incident and prevented the return of the First. Nevertheless, her people had already noted one thing during the briefing on this task, which she now echoed. “This time we’re talking about a space station and not a fixed installation on a planet. An action against PGI would certainly come, but perhaps enough time would be wasted and although it would mean an extremely high, massive effort, even a space station citadel could easily be moved elsewhere in a fortnight by IPF. Perhaps even faster with the technology of the First and then ... Good luck with the search.”

The Calanian elder agreed. “A very valid point. I am in favour of initiating a scouting mission immediately and securing the location, as well as the assumption about forbidden technology. If this station really corresponds to the design of the First or emits certain signatures, it will be recognised beyond doubt and if it does, we must gather our forces against it without hesitation.”

Where Mognor had previously accepted the facts, he added one more. “We should start now. Let’s put the fleet on alert. That will save us some time if the information is confirmed.”

“Have you seen the alleged location of the station?” asked the Palanian elder. He was characterised by cracked scaly skin, half his face was covered in scarred furrows and he was missing an eye. “The station may be in wild space, but the shortest route for us would be along the edge of the Junta’s territory. All other routes would take a lot more travelling time and I doubt the Junta would like our fleet to be near their territory with or without notice.”

“Our fleet is not in the least a threat to the Junta’s power,” the Calanian elder rebutted, drawing on her cultural knowledge. “And considering the Junta’s past, once banished from the Spectrum and only earning a place in it again thanks to the Solaris War, I hardly think they’d use this as a reason to give us serious answers.”

Orath played with his thumb and fingers on his lips as he pensively moved his chair back and forth in front of him. “I don’t know.”

“One thing is clear,” said Rila and activated the holo projector again. When everyone in the council was on an equal footing, you couldn’t help but notice that the Eporanian was somehow the leading instrument. “We need to talk and discuss this carefully. Time is not our friend, but we must take as much as we can.” Her words were taken in and understood by all present before the Eporan looked to her guest. “Kysaek, I’m afraid this is a matter for the Consulate, but I’d like to give you a chance to say something about it, if you’d like:”

“Say, mm,” Kysaek replied thoughtfully. She had put the facts on the table and said what she wanted. Now it was all up to the elders, but should she perhaps put forward a few more arguments? Try to give good reasons why holding back would only mean greater disaster? Or should she be more forceful and simply demand what she needs? Many questions, but Kysaek knew that there would be enough talking after her departure, so she did the opposite. “I said what needed to be said and I would only add one thing: We don’t have many opportunities to do great things in life. But this is different - this is a significant point that could, no, will determine the course of our galactic history.” Whether there was any truth in that remained to be seen, but Kysaek believed what she had just said and took her leave of the Council with that mentality. “And I hope that you will all make the right decision, dear elders.”