NationStates Jolt Archive

Phenian Space...

It was all so pathetically easy.
Phenia, as they called it, wasn't even a true nation: It was a colony that had been established by a conglomerate of companies and lobbyist-types, for the sole purpose of mining all the minerals and gas that could be found on the dull, rocky Phenia I, the generic gas giant Phenia II, and the thousands of asteroids that tumbled though the system, caught in the gravity well of the medium yellow star at the center. There were only sixteen million people in the whole system, ruled by one Governor (and President of the Colony Development Council) Sharon Clark Collins and her Phenia Security Force, or PSF for short. Almost half of the whole backwater system's GDP had been poured into constructing the PSF, many billions of credits to protect the Colony's drones, ships and mining installations from raider attacks. Armed Security Drones and starships patrolled and guarded the freighters, holds stacked with ore and helium tanks, as they passed between the asteroids, the starport over Phenia I and the Mining Station with their precious resources.
Despite this, Captain Kutt was having the time of his life.

The kitsune of the common rust-red fur tinged with black and white-tipped tail had a long history as a criminal in general. As a youth on the moon of Kel, a mining world not so different from Phenia deep inside the Kitsune Empire, he had done a brisk trade in narcotics, illegal weapons (mainly switchblades and hold-out blasters) and other prohibited items and substances. He had been arrested on one counts of drug trafficking, two counts of possession of an illegal weapon and one count of assault and battery and was awaiting trial when he received the offer to join a group known simply as Vila's Pirates. The Xiscapian jumped at the chance and became a part of the kitsune Vila's Pirate armada, working mainly inside the space of the Intergalactic Empire of Greal during the Imitator War and raiding Greali transports, merchantmen and freighters as they criss-crossed the great Empire. During a raid gone bad the pirate ship Kutt was working on, the Confiance, was ravaged by a Greali Orlin class Missile Ship; the outlaw vessel was boarded and Kutt was the only one of the crew taken prisoner, the rest either killed in the fighting or executed by Greali stormtroopers.

Kutt, while not a gifted kitsune, had his talents: He knew the Greali had kept him alive because of his race. The human-dominated nation was, at the time, a bitter rival of the Kitsune Empire, with alliances, incidents and hostilities almost constantly shifting and changing between the two. The keeping of a kitsune in one of their prison moons allowed them a sense of satisfaction and superiority, whilst satisfying curiosity about the strange people who plagued Greali foreign affairs. While in the prison Kutt forged a clandestine alliance with two of his cellmates: A Greali ex-stormtrooper named Alat who had been imprisoned for deserting his post, and a former Calaverian governor called Milic who was being held captive to ensure his newly conquered people did not rise up against the Greali Empire. Using Kutt's combat experience as a pirate, Alat's inside knowledge of the prison system and Milic's reserve of the hundreds of other Calaverians who had been locked up with him, the three brigands started a rebellion.

The revolt was signaled by the destruction of the central command center as Kutt, disguised as one of the guards, killed the staff and activated the emergency evacuation sequence. Hundreds of Greali marines and droids and thousands of prisoners clashed bloodily on all levels as the captives sought to break free while the soldiers tried to contain them. Greali resistance began to crumble as guards and officials fled to the hangers and escaped in shuttles, transports, starships and anything else that would fly. Kutt, having a head-start on the others, made it to a shuttle and managed to get Alat onboard. Milic, who came after him, was shot dead by Kutt: No love was lost between the Xiscapian and Calaverian, who had detested him from the second he had seen him.

In the end most of the prisoners were unable to escape due to the lack of starcraft available, most of them having been commandeered by routed Greali. Kutt and Alat were one of the few who did make it to freedom, along with a dozen other outlaws on the shuttle. Knowing his fellow fugitives had a deficiency in patience, and the craft didn't have enough fuel or consumables to get them to a known civilized system, and bearing in mind that he was a wanted sapient in both the Kitsune and Greali Empires, Kutt made for the nearby Phenia starsystem. He prowled the area for a full day, avoiding being spotted by the ships and drones, before he finally selected a target: A Dusky (http://i576.photobucket.com/albums/ss205/phenia_shipyards/duskyclassdestroyer.jpg) class Destroyer, fresh from Lance Shipyards in Phenia. The shuttle was completely unarmed and did not carry a cloaking device, jammer or other equipment that would assist in the capturing of a military vessel, but Kutt hatched a daring plan. Using the shuttle's smaller size and superior maneuverability, he came out of hiding behind an asteroid and approached the Destroyer at such a range that if the ship fired its torpedoes at him it would cripple, if not destroy, the Dusky class itself, leaving it at the mercy of the floating asteroids.

After attaching to the hull Kutt's men used simple welding equipment and blasters to enter the Destroyer. The crew outnumbered them four to one, but the green, untested PSF members were no match for the hardened criminals, and Kutt, leading the way with a blaster in one hand and a saber in the other, took control of the ship. The Xiscapian quickly established himself as Captain of the ship, naming her the Approaching Appalling Affair, and the other hijackers bowed to his supremacy: It had been Kutt who had orchestrated the prison breakout and led them to command of this ship, so now his leadership became official. Initially the Approaching Appalling Affair played cat-and-mouse with the few security vessels present in the system as its new owners worked their way though the consumables onboard, the crew too small and not familiar enough with the systems to put up a fight or even to assail the freighters and transports that were scattered throughout the system. Kutt soon realized that not only had he captured a security vessel from the PSF: Judging by the size of the other ships attempting to locate the Approaching Appalling Affair, he had stolen their flagship!

Using a combination of this prestige, tales from his glory days as a boarder in Vila's Pirates, promises of wealth and the sheer guts it took to approach them, Kutt caused a number of colonists and even a few PSF soldiers to defect to his command, allowing him to operate the Approaching Appalling Affair at full capacity and giving him a total compliment of forty crew plus twenty boarders. Over the course of a year and a half Kutt and his band of thugs violently seized the cargo and even some of the crew of several large freighters and dozens of smaller ore haulers and mining drones, selling their spoils on the black market, ransoming the hostages to the Colony Development Council and using the remainder of their ill-gotten gains to stock and power the Approaching Appalling Affair. These exploits made Kutt and his pirates a legend in the system, and earned them the nickname the Maroon Marauders. Interestingly Kutt also became well known for the discipline of his crew and his humane treatment of prisoners, and indeed he did not seem the stereotypical pirate, armed with a katana and covered in silky fur as he was. Nonetheless he easily became the scourge of the PSF and was responsible for the deaths of the crews of a number of smaller PSF craft sent to engage him and the crews of the vessels he attacked who decided to resist.

Today he stood on the bridge of the Approaching Appalling Affair and watched though the optical imaging array as the mining transport Two Twenty Three and two Security Drones burned on the viewscreen, savaged by ten-megaton missile fire from the pirate ship. The ship and her escorts had never even seen Kutt coming, the natural advantage of the asteroid field making hundreds of blind spots on their scanners enhanced by the stealth field Kutt had had engaged. Once he appeared the jamming system he had cobbled together was activated: Being civilian-grade it wasn't even good for half an A.U., but in Kutt's line of work it didn't need to have a range any larger than ten thousand kilometers or so, as a pirate he worked up close to his targets. After they a salvo of missiles had all but annihilated the drones and crushed the engines on the transport, leaving her helpless. Unfortunately when the boarders had breached in, led by Alat, they had meet stiff resistance, above and beyond anything Kutt had ever encountered: These were no freighter crew armed with direct-contact weapons and stunners, these were trained military troops!

In the end Kutt had ordered the boarding shuttle, the same that he and the others of his original core of pirates had come on, to swing around to the hold and directly siphon out the cargo, rather than have the boarding party fight though the platoon of PSF men to get to it. Once this was done the shuttle had made two trips back to the Approaching Appalling Affair: One to drop off the ore it had stolen, and the second to bring the few prisoners they had managed to take on this round back to their new home on the pirate ship. Kutt found taking hostages an extremely profitable venture: The CDC almost always paid for their safe return, and occasionally a prisoner would even volunteer to join Kutt's Maroon Marauders, entranced by the selfish ease of pirate life. However, as the shuttle turned to make its third and final trip to retrieve the small team of pirates left on the outer hull of the transport, Two Twenty Three abruptly exploded into a fireball, probably a self-destruct activated by the men still trapped inside to try and kill a few of the raiders before they got away. Kutt was disgusted: Now he was not only out two good boarders and his second-in-command, Alat, but the transport itself was gone. Kutt never destroyed the ships he preyed upon if he could help it, doing so would simply deprive him of a potential future target.

"Take us to the edge," he ordered the helmsman, tail flicking as he stalked off the bridge. The Approaching Appalling Affair would retreat to the edge of the system so the pirates could count the spoils and plan their next attack. Kutt always liked to use this time to interrogate the prisoners: He heard they'd taken three this time, which was about average. He found most Phenians to be quite dull, but every so often one surprised him. He dreamed of one day capturing Governor Collins herself, not only for the massive ransom he would be in an excellent position to demand, but also to be able to confer with her and find out exactly how much damage he was doing to the Colony: One could only get so much from the flattery-laced comments of the Approaching Appalling Affair's crew and terrified Phenian prisoners. As the kitsune Captain went though the halls of his ship the mostly human, almost completely male pirates in his way quickly moved to the side, bowing, saluting or throwing one arm across their chest. Kutt inspired respect and fear in his underlings, which was the way he liked it: Doing so was the only effective way to keep discipline aboard the ship. As he passed them he looked at each individually: He would need a new second to replace Alat, and he had no shortage of bloodthirsty brigands to choose from among the Maroon Marauders.

Captain Kutt would not have been so composed if he was aware that his second-in-command was floating though the void in his spacesuit, still alive and conscious, hovering between the flaming husks of the destroyed Phenian ships, cursing and unable to do anything but wait for death or capture...

Transport 223 wreckage

The destroyers Harpoon and Expedient were first on the scene. Too late to intervene in the battle - someone's brilliant plan had gone wrong - they arrived to find the pirate gone and several bio-signatures amidst the wreckage. Expedient launched a SAR mission, hauling in a dozen survivors. Mostly injured soldiers and some of the freighter crew, also injured.

On Expedient, in the captain's cabin, Captain William Longstreet spent about ten minutes on the horn with PSF Central Command. Afterward, the thoughtful, tall and lanky officer sought his XO, Commander Bruce Donalds.

"Commander," he said quietly. "As per your excellent service to the Phenia Security Force, and by authority of the Central Command, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain. Congratulations."

Donalds took this in for a moment, and managed to say. "Thank you, Captain." Then he realized something. "If I may ask, to which ship will I be transferred?"

Longstreet gave a faint, wry smile. "None. As of 0300 you will command the Expedient."

When he didn't elaborate, Donalds replied: "They are transferring you."

Longstreet blinked once. "Yes. I am taking full responsibility for our late arrival."

It was outrageous. "That's unfair, it wasn't our fault, we were-"

Longstreet was nodding. "If our late arrival had somehow won the battle, I would accept responsibility for that, too. As captain, you take the good and the bad."

Donalds had no response. Finally he said, "It has been an honor to serve with you, sir."

Longstreet returned the salute, his face impassive. Inwardly he boiled. It was his fault: he shouldn't have depended on the General's war plan. He knew that the timing was wrong. But if he had moved earlier, why, he would now be repremanded for disobeying standing orders. He accepted repsonsibility, alright, but he also knew where the fault lay, and who would not, like him, take responsibility. Inwardly, he boiled.

At that same moment, one of the small craft on the SAR mission slowly pulled towards another survivor who had been fortunately wearing a spacesuit. The nondescript suit was identified as neither PSF nor civilian model, however, and as the craft pulled aside two PSF soldiers at the open hatch trained their weapons on the ex-Greali stormtrooper, and present pirate.

Capitol House
Phenia Arcology

"You know my recommendation, Madame Governor. We must take a harder stance. We must not pay ransoms."

"I know, James," the Governor said with a sigh. "But you also know why that cannot be done. Every ransom paid winds up being a life saved. If we don't pay it, it's another death on my conscience."

The Governor was an old lady, and in his private thoughts General James Wu thought of her as The Old Bitch. She wasn't particularly impolite, cranky or mean - but all the same, he had come to loathe her in the years of her administration.

With a tone of apology he did not feel, he said, "To combat these pirates, lives must be spent. It is in the hopes that in the long term, lives saved will outnumber lives spent. There is only so much I can do, Madame Governor, if acceptable success is to be achieved."

"Any kind of success would be acceptable these days. Who was in charge of this operation?"

"Captain William Longstreet."

"He can't be in charge of the next one."

"He is already re-assigned." And thank you for your suggestions on how to do my job. Perhaps you'd care to wipe my ass too, Old Bitch.

A faint sigh. "So where do we go from here, James? And do not talk to me of the old subject of budgeting. These pirate attacks continue and there won't be a budget. The CDC is bleeding the most, and they aren't sure who to blame the most - us or the pirates."

James Wu stared at The Old Bitch's face on the small desk viewer a moment, his face impassive, as if waiting for her to continue on. It would actually be easier to hate her if she did rant, often and long - but because she did not, it was more difficult to hate her. It was hard to pin down what about her, other than her self-centered, self-serving policies that he despised.

He said, "Well, the budget has yielded the instrument of my newest plan. Lance Shipyards has completed their prototype of a new class of Stealth Ship and its systems are operating within goal parameters. This will give us an advantage our quarry has enjoyed all this time."

She appeared interested, but he knew she wasn't, not really. "And how many of these stealth ships will we need?"

"...potentially only one, Madam Governor, but certainly more wouldn't hurt."

"Can it be put into action this week?"

"I - ah, no, Madam Governor. It is not fully tested and it would be unwise to risk revealing the ships existence prematurely."

She paused, tilted her narrow head to the side and said: "Are you certain that the existence has not already been revealed? The pirates seemed rather unsurprised with Transport 223 - as if expecting soldiers."

Now it was the General who paused. "I am reasonably certain that our security has not been compromised... in either matter."

"Hmm," was all she said. "Well, send me a report on this stealth ship of yours and keep me updated as to its progress."

"Yes, Madam Governor."

As she broke the link, Sharon Clark Collins sunk back into her leather chair. The mug of coffee on her desk was cold. She cracked another antacid and washed it down with cold coffee. It was one of those days.

PSF SAR ship...

Alat (http://harnois75.deviantart.com/art/Spacesuit-concept-124574291) raised his hands above his head, having lost his weapon in the explosion and not being especially interested in dying quickly but painfully by explosive decompression. Alat was a survivor: He had avoided capital punishment for his crimes prior to being conscripted into the military, he had escaped death on the frontlines of the Berrax Rebellion, and lived though the prison breakout and dozens of firefights against PSF soldiers since. Alat wasn't very bright, he didn't have any of the cunning of his Captain, and he didn't possess Kutt's wherewithal or charisma that he used in commanding the pirate ship, but he did have three traits Kutt had valued highly: Toughness, military training, and unwavering (some might go so far as to say blind) loyalty. They had served him well as Kutt's second-in-command, and they would prove themselves here again. Alat knew he would get away from the PSF, he had never fallen or died before and he didn't intend to start now.
He would escape, one way or another.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt liked his ship: It was simple and functional, not like the stupid stylish designs or flair of his own native race's vessels. True, more space would mean more room for additional boarders, equipment or loot, but the size of the Approaching Appalling Affair was essential to his strategy of keeping hidden when not raiding Phenian shipping. Kutt didn't plan on terrorizing Phenian shipping forever: Once he accumulated enough wealth he would settle down somewhere and retire, turning the Approaching Appalling Affair over to some eager, enterprising second-in-command. Originally he had planned to give it it Alat, he wasn't exactly the ideal candidate but he had been with Kutt the longest, and in any case Kutt didn't really care what happened to the ship or crew after he was gone. But he knew he couldn't think about such things yet, he still had some ways to go before he could finally relax.

As he walked towards the hold the pirate who had been Alat's Lieutenant fell into step beside him. Kutt glanced to the side and beheld the only female onboard: A human women with hair the color of obsidian, a blaster and two daggers sheathed in her belt, skin that was once a healthy bronze now bleached white by ship life. She was Inimi, haunter of every pirate's dreams, as good in bed as she was in a knife fight. While not especially beautiful, Inimi was the only women aboard, and easily attractive enough to have most of the crew lusting after her. Still, none dared touch her: They knew she was Kutt's, and Kutt's alone. Even if she hadn't been protected by this invisible barrier, Kutt knew she wouldn't have had any problems living with the pirates: The last man who had tried something without her permission had been badly injured when she got done with him, never having his damaged genitalia fully healed.

"Captain," she nodded respectfully.

"What've you got for me today, Inimi?" Kutt asked. Inimi was in charge of restraining, caring for and preparing the prisoners for interrogation.

"One of the transport's crew, he's no good, scared out of his mind, poor fellow nearly pissed himself. The second's a wounded PSF soldier, we've given him some bandages, a couple of painkillers and a shot of rum, he'll walk it off alright."

Kutt sensed she was holding something back. "And the third, my dear?"

She gave him a wicked grin. "We've got a PSF officer, right off of Phenia I, I'm sure his head's full of intel. That is," a chuckle, "if he hasn't already eaten it, I wouldn't be surprised with the size of that bastard."

Kutt nodded, thinking quickly. "You've separated him from the other two?"

Inimi gave a little bow. "Of course, he's ready and waiting to receive you."

Kutt smiled for the first time. "Very well. No one's to disturb me unless there's a serious change in status. By the way," he stopped at the door to the hold and turned to face her. "Alat's dead. Congratulations on your promotion to second-in-command, Inimi."

The female blinked and smiled. "Thank you, Captain," she licked her lips, "I'll consul you for his death later tonight..."

Kutt laughed as he opened the door. "Looking forward to it. Take the bridge while I'm gone, I might be a while..."

SAR Craft/Expedient

As the small craft drifted, ever so slowly to him, the prisoner raised his hands. Though their target was apparently unarmed, one of the guards stood and fell back, still maintaining a good and clear field of fire. Two more men came from the sides to haul Alat in, and then dragging him in the weightless environment toward the aft compartment, away from the wounded survivors.

He was strapped in the weightless, airless and cramped room surrounded by four armed men who wouldn't shed a tear if this prisoner was, you know, accidentally killed while resisting capture.

Then there was an airy hissing as atmosphere and gravity were slowly restored. Gun barrels pointed at Alat's face. A red light switched to green. The craft jerked and then was still. The sergeant raised his helmet and took a breath of the ship's air. Alat was invited to remove his helmet.

"Alright, you pirate fuck," said he once this had been accomplished, "Stand up."

Approaching Appalling Affair

The prisoner woke to a bright light as his cell door opened. To say he was fat was neither insult nor overstatement. His double chin jiggled as he moved his head toward the door. His flabby arms and trunk-like legs quivered in his uniformed pants as they slid around. His enormous belly bulged as he sat up.

His undershirt was stained dark with sweat and his belly already rumbled. At age 25, his hair was already thinning and his round, baby-like face showed a startled, fearful expression.

Lieutenant (junior grade) Willis Turgeson did not look forward to being a hostage.

SAR craft...

Slowly, not wanting the guard with an itchy trigger finger blowing him away, Alat unsealed his helmet guard with a hiss of escaping air and pulled it off his head, the golden visor reflecting light from the bulkheads of the ship. The face exposed underneath was about what one would expect: Unshaven with stubble, thin lips and hard eyes, a visage simply made to glare, which is exactly what the Greali was doing. With equal care the pirate stood up, hands raised again, and waited, not wanting to risk saying something wrong and being shot for his mistake.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt was very careful about how he kept his prisoners: The room in which the Lieutenant was being kept was almost completely dark, so when he automatically turned his head to look to the opening he was blinded by the light, and thus unable to see anything more than a vaguely humanoid shape approach him. Kutt moved around behind him before he could regain his vision, careful to keep out of the human's line of sight: The shock of meeting an alien for the first time could work wonders on even tough subjects.
Not that Kutt anticipated this walking testament to gluttony would put up much of a fight.

"Lieutenant, ah, junior grade, Willis Turgeson, yes?" Kutt had an ever-so-slight Xiscapian accent, which was akin to a Terran Asianic tone that gave his words a light ending. "I am sorry you are not enjoying your stay here aboard the Approaching Appalling Affair. Perhaps we could remedy that. You see, I am certain you are privy to information which might prove useful to me; I, in contrast, hold your life in my hands. You may have heard I am humane to my prisoners, and this is so. But," the kitsune stepped into Turgeson's field of view, looking down his snout at the quivering man, "I am not, as it were, human, and therefore may not hold a concept of 'humanity' identical to yours." He smiled, or at least snarled silently, on the canine visage it was difficult to separate the two. "You have a decision to make: Shall we sit to tea and foodstuffs like civilized sapients while you tell me what you know, or will you remain strapped to that table while I experiment with the axiom of humanitarian treatment?"

"Yeah, sarge. Tell 'im," one of the guards said. The sergeant glanced at him sternly for a long moment, then back at the pirate.

"Now place your hands behind your head," was all the sergeant said. "Keep them there, and slowly turn to face the wall. Turn - yep, that's right. This ain't a new experience, I see. Don't give us trouble, we don't give you none, nice and civilized now."

The sergeant bound Alat's arms and hands together with multiple wraps of a thick, strong cord often used for this purpose. In the end Alat's arms and wrists were fairly well tied together, and he could feel the cord pressing through the suit.

"We go through that door in a minute. Nice and slow. But first, answer me this. What is your name, and do you currently have any allergies to any medications you're aware of?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson peered at the alien's face, breathing quicker, but trying not to show it.

Oh, Phenians knew there was a galaxy at large out there, absolutely loaded with nonhumans... but it was one thing to know, and another thing to see staring down at your helpless body.

It was a moment before the words the pirate captain said seemed to sink in. His eyes darted all over the place, as if seeking escape somewhere in the limited confines he could see beyond the table.

But he already knew what to answer. What the PSF were trained to answer. His voice, dry as it was, cracked on the first syllable. "Turgeson, Willis R., Lieutenant... Junior Grade. Service Number 9349JA."

His lip quivered just a mite... and he repeated it, his voice a little louder this time. His heart thumped strongly as the Kitsune pierced him with his gaze.

There was a slight pause.
"Alat," Alat said finally. No last name. He considered the second question for a while, wondering why they would think he would know. What's next, his mother's maiden name and place of birth?

"And no." He growled, shaking his head. I'd better get out of here soon, or the guards themselves might drive me crazy before I ever meet a fucking officer.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt made a short, bark-like sound that opened his jaws wide, shortly followed by a series of high-pitched growls: Turgeson would realize he was hearing kitsune laughter. "Cute," he said finally. "Lieutenant, I don't think you fully grasp the gravity of the situation you are currently in. A million things exist that I can do to loosen your tongue, ranging from merely uncomfortable to downright deadly, and I'm prepared to use all of them." The pirate stepped forward and leaned down so the tip of his muzzle was only inches from Turgeson's face, whispering. "You have one more chance before I decide to get nasty. Do you want to be cooperative, or do you want me to force you to cooperate?"

The sergeant looked at the prisoner and nodded. He stepped back a moment and muttered something into his communicator, heard a response, then chattered back.

The hatch seal safety light now shone, and the hatch then opened. "Forward," the sergeant said, and Alat was guided into what was the Expedient's airlock. Inside, two more guards awaited, and an unarmed CPO. An older noncom, he had medical experience many private facilities at the Colony would pay highly for. Not too much treatment of prisoners, but when you came down to it, most patients were prisoners of sorts as well.

"'Alat'," said the sergeant sneeringly, "Meet our ship's medic. Doc, meet Alat."

"This will not hurt," the medic said. He had a medical case sitting on the deck nearby, and a long syringe was in his hand.

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson firmed up his quivering and flabby chin as best he could. To answer his captor he only took a deep breath and began to repeat his name, rank and ID like it was a mantra that could magically stave off the inevitable pain.

I'll bet. "What is that?" Alat asked suspiciously, eyeing the needle. "What are you gonna stick me with?" He had a deep, slow voice, the kind often heard around shipyards, bars, military barracks and other places where large men with small vocabularies congregated.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt drew his hand back and gave Turgeson a ringing slap across the face, the clawed hand leaving three ugly red scratch marks across his cheek. Without giving him time to react the kitsune slammed his knee down into the Phenian's groin and followed up with an elbow to the stomach, moving so fast the Lieutenant could barely follow him with his eyes. "You and your kind, you make me sick," Kutt spat. "I hate this system and it's stupid, weak people with their foolish, petty concerns. You're just like all the others, a patriotic drone, no ambition, no intelligence, just waiting like a lamb to the slaughter. I could take over your whole tired, corrupt government right now, enslave your men, rape your women and kill your children, and the only reason I don't is because I'm not interested in building an empire." He gave Turgeson another kick for good measure. "You're pathetic, you stupid sack of shit, I could feed my whole crew for a week off your obese corpse! I bet the females run when you come a-calling," he sneered, "you've probably have more rolls of fat than dates in your entire insignificant, puny existence. I almost wish the Greali Empire was here now, they'd steamroll your entire failure of a military and put you all in chains where you belong." He breathed, shaking his head. "Worthless, useless, brain dead people!"

Finally Kutt allowed himself to mentally sit back and survey the affects of his little speech.

As the prisoner growled the sergeant, not a small man himself, stared at him and said, "You're not going to give us any trouble here, are you?"

The medic looked at the sergeant, then at the prisoner, hesitated only the briefest moment before saying: "A mild sedative."

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson's eyes widened in surprise as the pirate slapped him, and then he let out a rasping grunt as he was hit by the knee to his groin. He gasped and grunted with pain and fear as he was assaulted by the Kitsune's rage and speed, and he yelled with it at the final kick.

Then there was silence but for his groaning whimpers. His body ringing with adrenaline, the sickly, aching pain throughout his abdomen and crotch, he manage to gasp out his response in a hoarse voice. "I.... don't like you very much either..."

"Huh," Alat grunted, shrugging, looking away from the syringe. "Just get it over with." He'd gotten a lot of shots while in the military, and more in prison, and even some while on the Approaching Appalling Affair, though the ladder was in the form of mind-altering drugs, rather than medically useful substances as he had taken before. He didn't particularly like someone sticking him with the sharp thing to change his body or mind, he liked to be in complete control of himself, but he didn't really have a choice in this case.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

"Ah, good, something aside from your name, rank and serial number," Kutt sneered. "You know you grow less valuable to me as time goes on, after a time has passed I'll have to end your life if you continue to be so stubborn. You know I don't kill my prisoners, but nobody knows you're here, not that whimpering PSF soldier or the stuttering crewman we brought you onboard with; you die, and my sterling reputation stays that way. Of course, if you give me what I want you become my prisoner and guest, and we will treat you well. And after all, what are you really protecting, hmm?" He cocked his head. "Is your information worth dying for? Do you think your people really give a damn about you? Sure, they'll pay for your release, but that's just so the record will show that they weren't willing to waste lives to fight the big, bad, evil pirate, so history will look on them as the good guys. And what do you have to lose? Nobody needs to know what you tell me, and in the end I'll get what I want anyway, though force. So on one hand, if you help me, I'll make sure you get home safe and sound. If you don't, I'll destroy you physically, mentally and spiritually until you do help me, just to make it stop, as you inevitably will, and then I will kill you."

Kutt smiled inwardly. Few beings were invulnerable to the careful application of logic and torture, given in greater and greater amounts until they caved.

The medic stepped forward and, a bit warily, took Alat's arm. He removed the suited glove and so forth until he reached skin. Then he stuck the needle into his arm.

It turned out to be more than a mild sedative. The effects of the chemical concoction in the dose given were known and thoroughly tested on humans, and would occur within seconds. Some men could resist for a time; stubbornly hold on to consciousness. It helped if they were larger men or if they were just plain mean. But it only dragged out the process a few more seconds. Alat felt a rush of blood to his head, and his vision became speckled with growing red dots while he felt control over his muscles and body rapidly fade. Then he slumped to the floor.

Before blackness swarmed to overtake him he heard someone grumble, "...we got to carry him, now how is that gonna make things easier..."

When he next regained consciousness the first thing he noticed was the bright light... everywhere. Adjusting eyes through grogginess of sedation and Alat found himself in a small, cubical room with padded walls, no furniture... and no space suit. He was wearing a thin hospital garment... and a diaper.

The one door was shut. He got the sense he was being observed.

Approaching Appalling Affair

The PSF officer's wide eyes stared at the pirate, but also into the vague distance, his thoughts racing, his body still screaming.

The Kitsune was making sense, now. His only hope would be to hang on until a ransom could be paid ... but they would pay no ransom if they thought him dead. And even if not, there would be little hope in holding out for a rescue. Given the track record of the PSF thus far, that idea was laughable. He was at the mercy of his captor and it was clear that the infamous pirate had only begun dealing out pain.

"I'm..." he said, "I'm not protecting anything. I don't ... I don't know anything you'd want to know," and the words seemed to bubble nervously out of him now, "B-but, my duty... I... I... please don't kill me..."

He closed his eyes once, and when they opened a tear slid hotly down his face to the table he was strapped to. His face contorted in pain and shame.

Alat awoke with a snort and a grunt, blinking and squinting in the harsh illumination before letting his head loll again. The pirate took stock of his surroundings, his new clothes and the light-headed feeling combined with the sensation that his mouth had been stuffed with cotton. He looked up again, closed his eyes and leaned his head back, tired and (though he would never have admitted it) a bit afraid. He seemed to be having difficulty working his tongue, but he was finally able to say something quite loudly.

"What!"

It was difficult to tell if the single word was an exclamation of surprise, an inquiry or, for lack of a better word to utter, some sort of substitute for an expletive.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

"Don't kriffing lie to me!" Kutt roared and slammed his fist down into Turgeson's gut again, this time ever more forceful than the last. The Captain gripped the Lieutenant's face in his hands and forced him to look at him, breathing heavily in his face. "I won't kill you if you tell me what I want to know. What are they working on now? What else are they going to send against me? What's their next plan?" His furry fingers were grasping so tightly that the claws were drawing blood, warping the fat, malleable face of the PSF officer.

Turgeson was again taken by surprise with the hit to the stomach, letting out a soundless scream. He writhed helplessly, tears running freely now. When he next spoke he was babbling.

"I... I... I don't know t-their plans, just... l-logistics officer... please don't h-h-h-h-" and he was unintelligible as he breathed in a great heaving gasp for a few sweating, agonizing moments. "Only thing r-recently is the supply allotment ch-changed." Then he silently weeped, not elaborating, as if he had found some new strength within him, trying to regain control.

Somewhere

His voice didn't echo, but seemed to be absorbed by the walls, muted and artificially cut off.

But the tiny camera saw and heard. Up in the corner, where the wall and ceiling met, it whizzed and whined as it turned to focus on him. Almost camouflaged, now conspicuous. Watching.

The sound of the hatch opening. In walked a guard wearing what seemed a bio hazard suit, faceplated helmet, gloves. Rifle. You could hear the hissing sound of air in his suit as he watched Alat silently for a moment, then moved to the side, allowing another man to come through the secure door. Alat could see no other guards standing outside, but his view of the white hall beyond was partially obstructed.

The second man was tall, cleanshaven, with some graying hairs, and he wore Phenian business attire. He carried a briefcase. His blue eyes met Alat's and his face briefly showed pity - or perhaps mock pity.

Then he smiled, a real how-do-ya-do smile. "Hello there, Mister Alat. My name is Mister Daniels. I hope you don't feel too unwell? Can I get you anything, water maybe?"

He glanced at the guard. "We can do that, right? Have someone bring him some water? Right? Right, we can."

The guard had said nothing and hadn't reacted, his eyes remaining fixed on the prisoner, staring behind the faceplate.

Mr Daniels looked at Alat. "Yes, no? Perhaps some food as well?" He smiled his award-winning smile again.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt backed off a bit, leaning against the bulkhead behind him, looking at Turgeson curiously. A red herring? Perhaps. But all leads needed to be pursued. "Changed?" His voice was a soft purr now, non-threatening. "How so?"

Undisclosed Location...

Alat stared at "Mister Daniels." He looked like an Intelligence spook if the ex-stormtrooper had ever seen one, and there had been a lot of them in the President's Army, so Alat was sure his guess wasn't far off the mark.

"I'd like some water, but not if you put any more of that knock-out shit in it," he croaked, not returning the smile. Alat didn't feel hungry, he was too nervous, but he would kill for some water (or any consumable liquid really); anything to get that horrible taste out of his mouth.

He spoke quieter now, his throat raw. "At Central Fleet Command... they've been requisitioning more sup-supplies. Uh... fuel and energy cells and consumables... spare parts. I don't n-know what it's for, but we- we speculate, I mean I think it's for...."

And he hesitated. Blinked again. His eyes looked weary and he cringed almost anytime Kutt moved.

"I know that's ship supplies, so I think it's for-formation of a new squadron, but they really don't tell us shit, half the time they don't know either, it's sloppy and it's like they don't even want to run things efficiently and-"

His voice had grown with emotion, perhaps months of pent-up frustration before stopping; as if realizing he was babbling on a tangent. But Kutt's eyes spoke, and they said there was no irrelevant information.

"I'll... I'll answer whatever you want... just..." He didn't want to say it, but had to. "Just don't hurt me any more."

Willis Turgeson was no fan of pain.

Somewhere

Daniels nodded thoughtfully. "I certainly don't want to knock you out. I could use some water myself, actually. Guard, could you please have someone bring us in a pitcher of water? Just plain water, please. For me and my friend."

Again, the guard seemed to take absolutely no notice.

But Daniels looked back at Alat, following the prisoner's eyes. Beaming again. "I'm sure they'll bring some in in a minute. They don't talk much, but they're quite professional. And, as I'm sure you know, they can hear every word."

He crouched down a bit, folding his arms. His suit and shirt pulled back to reveal well-tanned wrists; on one of them, what seemed an old-fashioned style, gold wristwatch. "Now, I don't have as much time as I'd like, so let me get you caught up on things. You have been found guilty of Piracy, and numerous small crimes; you're not a citizen of the Colony, or of anywhere else as far as we can tell. Your fellow pirates have left you for dead, and in the eyes of the law, you pretty much already are."

Mr Daniels paused, letting that sink in.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

"I'm not going to hurt you as long as you keep talking," Kutt said patiently. He looked bored on the outside, or he did as far as anyone could tell on his furry, alien visage, but on the inside his mind was racing. Another kriffing squadron? Laughable. This man, Turgeson, he's clearly fed-up with the system's suffocating bureaucracy, with a little more pushing I'm sure I can get him to spill his guts... The kitsune glanced at the officer's rising curve of fat. Not that I'd really want that.

"I think you know more than that," Kutt said softly. "Tell me about the PSF and their troubles."

Undisclosed Location...

Alat glanced suspiciously at the guard, but soon had his attention dragged back to his interrogator. He listened to his list of offenses, face impassive, before nodding slowly. "And...?" He let that hang in the air for a moment, eyes locked on Daniels.

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson collected his thoughts, seemingly put more at ease by his captor's assurance.

"W-well, I don't know, a lot of little things. They never tell us what anything is for so we don't really know... some things are obvious enough. But even that... I could be wrong, my com- some other guys say maybe it's just a ruse, and it's really to cover up a buildup at one of the staging facilities, but this was last weekend. I... things might have happened, I haven't been at LogCom s-since transferring out..."

His sweaty round face gave a slightly sour look at this.

Undisclosed Location

Daniels' expression didn't change for a split second before he smiled, sheepishly. His hands spread outward in a gesture of seeming helplessness. "And, I just thought you should know where you are, and why, and what the likelihood of you ever leaving this place is. Which is zero, of course, unless you are willing to accept my help."

The door beeped again, and in walked another guard, outfitted like the first, his rifle slung. He didn't step inside, but instead knelt and placed a clear plastic pitcher of what could have been water onto the floor (somewhat carelessly, a few drops splashing onto the padded white material). He stood, then left, while Mr Daniels smiled again, reached and lifted the pitcher as if making a toast.

"I didn't specify for cups, I guess," he said with a chuckle. "Here you are. Try not to drink too much too quickly... you're rather dehydrated, and it'd be unfortunate if you got sick on me."

Again he smiled, as he lowered the pitcher and placed on the floor in front of Alat.

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt sighed to himself, rubbing a finger along the bridge of his snout. This is why I shall never father children. "Slow down," he snapped. "Put your words into a coherent sentence. Think before you speak." Trying to shift though Turgeson's babble was starting to give him a headache.

Undisclosed Location...

Alat accepted the pitcher, drinking greedily, some of the liquid spilling down his chin and onto his gown. The Greali was a big man: He drained three quarters of the container before he was done, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand and setting the vessel down, keeping it near him. Once this had been done he looked expectantly at Daniels, waiting for him to say something else. As long as I'm in this dump I might as well play along. Alat wasn't concerned about the spook's assurance that there was no escape: Intelligence was lying all the time, and no facility, no matter how secure, was escape-proof. The prison, with its legion of battle droids and phalanxes of guards, steel bars and stun guns, had proved that.

Turgeson swallowed and bobbed his jiggling chins in assent. His tongue snaked from between his lips and licked them. The welts on his face glowed red against the pallid color.

"Well," he said after some thought, "Command likes to shift supplies around sometimes, to make it seem like there is a movement or operation in some area. Usually the staging facilities, since they know they can be observed by anyone with a telescope. Or us in logistics. For assurance, I guess. But I think it wasn't just a ruse because, these days, supplies and transporting them is costlier, and this involved enough to outfit a whole squadron. Too much for just assurance. You know?"

He seemed to be more at ease now, now that he was speaking in his domain of expertise.... and not being attacked by this strange alien pirate.

Undisclosed Location

Daniels watched as the man drank, his humorless smile broadening ever wider. When he felt he had his prisoner's attention he said,

"You may be thinking of holding out for escape or rescue, or just for the sake of some sort of honor. But, knowing what I know, I can say definitively that you cannot. You can only change how messy, time-wasting, uncomfortable, and permanent the extraction of what information we want will be. If you accept my offer and cooperate, you'll come out of this a winner, and we can talk about that. If you don't, believe me in that I will not be able to help you."

He stood up, slowly, his eyes never wavering, and no grin any longer on his face. He looked as sober as a priest. "I have only been allowed two chances to speak with you, and after that if you still refuse, you are beyond my ability to help. Today is the first chance.... So tell me. Are you willing to answer a few questions?"

Approaching Appalling Affair...

"Mmmhmm," Kutt nodded thoughtfully, grunting. "And you think they're trying to construct a new squadron?"

Undisclosed Location...

Alat didn't say anything to the little speech, but he shifted uncomfortably, and when Daniels stared at him he looked away. At the last question he nodded slowly. "Yeah...shoot."

"Not construct," Turgeson said with a faint shake of his head. "Organize. They shuffle ships around just like everything else. They don't construct the ships."

Undisclosed Location

Daniels eyebrows crinkled in suspicion for a moment, then relaxed.

"Okay," he began. "What is your full name, and where were you born?"

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt idly scratched behind his ears, licking his chops. "But you said there seems to be too much activity just for the PSF to be covering its ass. If they're not building a new squadron, what do you think they're doing?"

Undisclosed Location...

"My name is Alat Khrushchev, and I'm from the world of Hurtrix in the Intergalactic Empire of Greal." He answered simply.

Approaching Appalling Affair

"Well, I do think they are forming a new squadron, I mean what else could it be. But what it's for, I don't know. There were definitely combat supplies. So, warships. Maybe a new convoy? You would probably know better than I do what specifically is going on in this system, you have a ship full of telescopes."

Turgeson swallowed again, looked nervous again. "Could I... could I have some water? And... uh, maybe go to the bathroom?"

Undisclosed Location

Daniels nodded, paused but the briefest moment and asked, "And what was your rank or position aboard the pirate ship?"

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt was staring off into space, and didn't seem to have heard the Lieutenant's questions. I don't like the looks of this, whatever they're up to, it probably concerns me. But I still think this fat bastard knows more than he's telling... The pirate Captain didn't answer, but pushed off from the bulkhead and walked over to the door, the guard lounging there snapping to attention, or at least the best a pirate could do.

"Sir."

"Guard, escort the prisoner to the nearest bathroom. He's to be allowed five minutes to use the facilities, and you're to give him a change of clothes. I want everything, his uniform, weapons and personal effects turned over to me."

"Yes sir."

The pirate, a grizzled bandit who was relatively new to the Maroon Marauders, stepped into the hold and unstrapped Turgeson from where he had been restrained. Kutt watched nearby with a bored expression.

"Now no funny stuff," the pirate showed the Phenian his assault rifle, "I'd hate to have ta ventilate ya." He pushed the officer with the stock of his weapon and herded him out into the corridor and into a small restroom. "Five minutes, no more, ya hear?" He handed Turgeson a folded pair of pants and a shirt. "You're to change into that before you come out, and don't try to hide nothing from me, 'cause I'll frisk ya!"

Undisclosed Location...

Alat curled his lip but answered anyway. "I was the leader of all the boarding parties that hijacked your freighters." He seemed to dislike the questioning, moving uncomfortably in his seat, restless.

Undisclosed Location

Daniels nodded, seeming to take the pirate's answer into account without noting the vagueness. Sensors measured the prisoner's bio and chemical outputs. Later analysis of the recordings would reveal plenty of data. But he observed Alat on a more intuitive level. He saw a practical, cautious, proud and disciplined man.

Greali, probably ex-military. If so, trained to resist interrogations, to lead interrogators on and turn the tables on his captors. As a pirate and probably long criminal history, he would use prison routines to find a grounding for reality, for resistance, even boredom. This was a man who, in his way, wanted for Daniels to torture him, perhaps to have that PSF guard give him a bloody thrashing. That would be worse than useless, however.

Daniels continued, his voice gentle, even warm-sounding. "And your captain - what was his name and where did he come from?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

"Yes... OK... Alright..."

Turgeson rose shakily, his hands turned upward in a sign of acquiescence as he stuffed himself into the small restroom. He sat down and sighed in relief. He had nothing to hide in his clothes, in his equipment, not even in his military career. All would check out, showing him that he was exactly what his service record said he was: a PSF logistics officer. Probably never make O-4 before forced into retirement. His service mates reported mixed opinions of him: he was a nice guy really, but his obesity separated him from true respect. Some still called him by his boyhood nickname, 'Turd' or 'Turdeson.' Others called him far worse. Mostly but not always behind his back.

He was done and he looked at the clothes he was given. Too small? No, they fit... not that well, but not humiliatingly too small or anything. He rinsed his wounded face with water, drank a fair portion of it, and grimaced at his body's aches and pains. He suspected he'd have to endure a fair bit more of that before this was all through.

Undisclosed Location...

Instantly Alat's disposition turned suspicious, almost hostile, glaring at Daniels. "What d'ya want with the Captain? He's the best damn sapient I ever met, you fools ain't ever going to catch him, you'll chase him across the galaxy and you still won't catch him."

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt flipped lackadaisically though Turgeson's wide clothing and what he'd had in his pockets and on his belt, laying the last article, an I.D. card, aside with a sigh. Nothing that could help him: The guy was as straight and boring as exterior of the kriffing Approaching Appalling Affair. But Kutt had a sixth sense about these things, an unexplainable certainty that the Lieutenant was still hiding something, something he was trying, and by all appearances, doing very well to conceal. So by the time the PSF officer was brought back in, dressed in casual pirate clothing and fully hydrated, Kutt was certain of his instincts.

"Let us resume, Lieutenant," he stepped closer as the guard once again strapped Turgeson down to the table, "I need some specifics about the PSF. How many total ships are there in the sector? What classes? How many troops? How well trained are the crew and soldiers? How's the morale of the colonial people? Who's your superior officer?"

It was the best track to take: Change the subject and Kutt would either smoke the man out, who he was now convinced was an impostor for some more sinister purpose than a Logistics officer, or the subject would actually give him something of value. Either way, he won.

Undisclosed Location

Daniels didn't seem perturbed by Alat's response. "Have you ever been convicted of a crime in the Intergalactic Empire of Greal?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson was taken aback when he saw he was to be strapped to the table again, and after the barrage of questions from Kutt he blinked and spoke, in a resigned but nervous tone. The pirate captain had been fast.

"My superior officer at LogCom was Commander Hutchins. My n-next, would be Captain Stuart. I don't know how many ships we have total, but I know we don't operate out of Phenia system except on c-convoys. Troops, well I don't know, but I know we have four major units - divisions, one through four, each one is about 20,000 strong. I don't know about ground forces training, but crew almost all specialized in something, or training to become a specialist, and a lot of that is not from Academy but in the field. Officers too, we get a good general education but the real path is in the field."

He elaborated. "They told me I was getting a good deal with it, but Command doesn't see it as training its officers. It's more like exile, at least it is for logistics, because what we do out there - I mean at the Helium-3 Facility, orbit of Phenia II - is exactly the same as what we do back at Log. But they promoted me, and reassigned me, and it's not like I had a choice. I need all I can get for when I'm back in the civilian sector trying to make a living..."

Undisclosed Location...

Alat seemed to calm down, relaxing a bit in his chair, a slight, sardonic smile creasing his lips. "Yeah, but it won't do you any good: Last I heard the Intergalactic Empire was going tits-up, thanks to the Danaversians and the Xiscapians and Alversians and Calaverians and every other fucking race with a couple of starships and a chip on their shoulder."

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt acted like he was listening, but in truth he barely heard what Turgeson was saying, for he was caught up in three little words the human had said: Helium-3 Facility.

"And this, ah, orbital station you used to work at, what does it do?" He paused. "Is it actually a mining station, or is it for ships in transit?" He showed his sharp, pointed teeth. "And what sort of defenses would the facility have?"

Undisclosed Location

Daniels was pleased. This information, seemingly harmless enough, would be a valuable lead for the PIA.

He nodded thoughtfully. "And do you feel anger, perhaps bias toward those races... Danaversians, Xiscapians and so on?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

Turgeson said, "I used to work at Log Com, in orbit of the main colony site, it's defended by the main fleet and orbital weapons platforms, sensor drones, the works. The Helium-3 mining station, I haven't been to yet so I don't know... uh, it's not a mining station per se, but it's a transport and shipping hub..."

Undisclosed Location...

Alat snorted. "I don't have much use for their fucking governments, no, but I don't actually got any problem with the races themselves...you couldn't be xenophobic in Greal, there was aliens everywhere you looked." He shrugged. "The government was always weak anyway, in the Intergalactic Empire, the others are just ripping her apart like animals over a kill." He snickered. "The strong eat the weak, that's what they're there for. One day they'll get eaten by someone stronger."

Approaching Appalling Affair...

Kutt waved a hand. "I want to know about the Helium-3 mining station, everything you know about it."

Undisclosed Location

Daniels, again nodding. "The strong eat the weak," he repeated calmly. "And your captain, would you say he shares your philosophy?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

He hesitated, swallowing. Somehow his throat was dry again.

"It's an orbital station, about one kilometer in diameter. It's got a heavy shield and thick armor, I think five heavy weapons... there's a patrol assigned to that zone..."

Undisclosed Location...

Alat shrugged. "I dunno, we didn't exactly sit around and pour over the Ancient Texts so we could talk about the human condition. He didn't have any use for weaklings or fools on the ship, I know that."

Approaching Appalling Affair...

"And what can you tell me about the patrol?" Kutt's voice was mild, even pleasant, and his gaze was almost kindly.

Undisclosed Location

Daniels nodded in understanding, and then asked, "So, how would the captain do with any weaklings, or fools, aboard his ship?"

Approaching Appalling Affair

"I really have no idea what ships are in the patrol, or if they rotate out, or what," Turgeson said, licking dry lips. "It wasn't part of my sector in logistics, and I've never been out there. I only know there is a patrol."

His eyes darted furtively.