Cmdr Dixon-Phyre
Role
Bounty hunter / Adventurer
Registered ship name
Vindicta
Credit balance
-
Rank
Elite
Registered ship ID
Type-10 Defender DX-8F5
Overall assets
-
Squadron
RazorGoat
Allegiance
Independent
Power
Yuri Grom

Logbook entry

A Second Chance?

20 Dec 2018Dixon-Phyre
Governor al-Shaheed grunted and tossed the data pad onto his desk. "Guy's a convicted criminal. Why the hell does he get released now? He's still got years to serve!"
Warder Klowski shrugged. "Orders from above, Governor. Before he got transferred here, you recall, he was one of a bunch of cons who got used in some...unethical research." al-Shaheed muttered sour nothings to the universe in general.
"Radiation exposure experiments. That's how his eyes got how they are," Klowski replied. al-Shaheed nodded and shuddered. Those milky eyes always gave him the willies. He sighed and returned his gaze to his terminal.
Mikael Yitzhak Dixon. The son of a respectable high-level Federation family, who had taken the whole rebellion thing just a bit too far. Could have just toed the line, had a respectable life and career. But no, went the other way and descended into a life of petty crime and degeneracy. Wound up in a gang, involved in theft and drug dealing. And, of course, it all caught up with him. Sentenced to an appropriate length of time. And now, because someone somewhere had blown the whistle on some unsavoury practises, the little reprobate was going to be free to wander the galaxy at large.
al-Shaheed sighed, picked up the data pad and signed the release order. The galaxy was welcome to him...

Bolts clunked and the door slid open.  Mikael lowered the book slightly and watched one of the guards step halfway in.
“On your feet,” the man grunted.
“Really?” Mikael replied, “This is a good bit…”
The guard disappeared back outside, and a deep, resonant voice spoke.
“Where are your manners, Mikael?”
He carefully marked his place and put the book down, swung his legs over and rose, standing looking ahead.  A bone-thin figure, so tall he had to duck under the doorframe, entered the cell.
“Warder Klowski,” said Mikael respectfully. The officer  gazed back at him and nodded.
“Good lad,” he murmured. A thin smile passed across Klowski’s narrow face.  He raised a hand, holding a data pad. “It’s your lucky day, Mikael.  You’ve been sprung.”
Mikael remained expressionless.  “Is this a joke, sir?” he asked. Klowski moved into his line of sight.
“How long have you been here, Mikael?  How long have we known each other?”

Five years…five long years since he was transferred here. He’d already spent two years inside, somewhere else, somewhere he would rather forget about.  Like many young male cons, he’d been cocky at first. That first place had been harsh, though. They tried to break you.  But he’s stayed unbroken, even after those horrible hours strapped down in a medical chamber whilst misguided scientists fired various kinds of invisible nastiness at him. He had gone almost completely blind. And that was how he had arrived here.  Not broken, but definitely bent out of shape.  Klowski was the senior officer back then too. He viewed his charges almost like wayward children (ha!), he was always strict, but never cruel and believed absolutely in getting the prisoners to better themselves.  His sense of humour was understandably dark…but he never took the piss, or messed you around.

Mikael lowered his gaze.  “Long enough…to know that was a bit of a daft question, sir.  I apologise.”
Klowski shrugged.  “I don’t blame you, though.  It does seem a bit bizarre.” He tapped the frame of the data pad.  “The Supreme Court has been looking into your treatment at the other place, and has deemed that you should be released immediately as recompense. But as part of the deal, you don’t get any kind of compensation.”
Mikael nodded.  He’d been bloody lucky as it was.  Klowski had arranged for treatment for his eyes, a course of targeted progenitor cells.  His sight was restored, although the whiteness would remain forever.
Klowski leaned forward and spoke quietly. “There’s more to it though.  Someone seems to think you have potential on the outside.  When you leave, you will have a ticket directly to Asellus Primus.”
“Why…there?”
“I know not. Apparently, you will find out more when you arrive.” Klowski straightened.  “Sort your stuff out, Mikael.  You leave tomorrow.”
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