It had happened almost instantly. When the recording in the transmission had ended, the door to the room that Tyr Cromwell occupied was kicked open as six well-armed and armored soldiers rushed in to subdue the former Samarran Raider. The operatives wore an unfamiliar purple insignia on their shoulders, and carried unrecognized rifles. They placed a pair of cuffs on Tyr, and escorted him out of the room on Freeport 9, rushing him back to a shuttle.
The flight was long and silent. Questions were ignored. One of the soldiers would occasionally offer a water bottle to Tyr throughout the flight to ensure he was hydrated. Hours would pass by before the shuttle began to approach a Battlecruiser. From the window, a Bullhead could be seen awaiting their arrival. The shuttle approached slowly, likely being scanned for any issues or violations. Finally, the shuttle docked with the Core vessel, and the soldiers prepared to disembark. They raised Tyr up from his seat and escorted him to the ramp. The ramp opened up into a relatively small hangar, containing only a handful of fighter craft, yet a high variety of them. A Sabre, a Prosecutor, a Wraith and a Marlin awaited pilots that didn't appear to be flying today. Some mechanical drones, which crawled on four legs, or walked on two, eyed the man that was brought into their home. Joining the crowd of glares were people in jumpsuits - engineering and maintenance staff. The majority of their faces appeared confused and unsure as to what was going on as the small team escorted the restrained man past the hangar and into the dark, narrow halls of the Eidolon Wraith.
The hallway was occupied by less inquisitive people. As the team escorted Tyr past, no one even glanced over to give them a second look. Cameras tracked their progress through the halls, while heavy security checkpoints hindered their progress. Frequent stops involving the flash of a datapad to security teams stationed at each allowed them to continue on their way. The dark, metallic atmosphere seemed to only get darker as security got heavier. At the last checkpoint, the same insignia the team that had taken him wore on their shoulders was embedded into the wall - a sub-division. They'd move past the shielded checkpoint and make an immediate right into an adjacent hallway and stop outside a door. One of the soldiers accessed the door's console in order to open it. It slid open rather quickly, and they guided Tyr into the small room, which contained only a table and two chairs. They sat him down with his back facing the entrance, and chained his handcuffs to the floor in such a way that he'd remain comfortable, but would be unable to raise his arms or stand.
The small team turned and left, leaving Tyr alone and locking the door behind them. An hour would pass. Two hours. There was no sign of anyone showing up. An intercom seemed to go active from somewhere in the dimly lit room, as the familiar cold tone of the voice that had warned him of the incoming operatives spoke.
"So. Now you're here. I'd say welcome, but you're not exactly a guest right now. Let's talk. Specifically about why you thought it was such a good idea to get in touch with me instead of your old friends, because I don't believe for a second that you're here without having at least contacted them once, or without their knowledge."
"Then you are wrong. I absolutely do not want to have any connection to the Raiders anymore. They may have been my brothers in arms, but I now know that I have been deceived for a long time. And I want revenge."
His facial expression changed rapidly, from calm and composed to angry and vengeful. The atmosphere in the room quickly changed, as Tyr's vengeance was clearly showing. He got to a point where he tried to break the chains from the floor but with his diminishing strength he couldn't do anything but sit back in the chair and rattle the chains that now keep him at bay.
"I'm sitting here, fuming, and you're asking me such trivial questions, like you didn't ask around before you brought me up here, or even responded to my plea. You're not stupid, and neither am I."
He looks worried for a second, but quickly shakes it off.
"Now, Hunt, are you going to hide forever, or are we going to speak face to face, like men?"
Hunt chuckled through the intercom. "I didn't live this long by being reckless. Security and caution is a priority. Call me paranoid. Procedure needs to be followed in these scenarios to a tee. I can't just drag a former associate into our home without covering every possible outcome, and obtaining every single detail I can so as to not jeopardize the people here. The short answer is - I don't trust you enough to sit around and chat idly face-to-face. Not yet. But I will grant you one liberty." The intercom went silent for a moment. The chain connected to the floor detached remotely, freeing Tyr's hands.
The intercom chimed again. "I need re-assurance. I can't simply take you on your word. Even if vengeance is your motive, it isn't ours. How do you plan on accomplishing it and why do you want it to begin with? I thought you people were loyal to the end."
The chuckle breaks the silence in the room. Tyr scratches his wrists as blood rushes back into his hands. Now free to move around, he stood up, leaned onto the wall below from where the sound of Hunt's voice came. He scratched his neck, gazed into the intercom, then lowered his head and stood silently for a moment.
"Listen, Hunt. I never asked for anyone's forgiveness for what I've done. I never had, but, you know, when things as serious as these happen, you start to see things from another perspective. The Raiders weren't what I thought they were at first, a band of brothers and sisters, set together by their common goals of being united under one banner, pillaging through Taus, hauling slaves and cardamine for some of that sweet profit, you name it, I've done it."
As he tries to say something, he raises his head back up, but now with the look of a serial killer. You could see the pain behind his eyes, the anger, the emotion, all building up, about to explode. He lowers his head again, pausing for a minute.
"I do not like betrayal. What they have done to me, is more than that. Each, and every single one of them put a knife in my back. And I will not let that go. I could've stayed back and fought with them until I found a better way to escape, but..."
He starts walking towards the desk in the middle of the room. A few seconds, and a loud bang could be heard echoing. Not a few moments later, his arm was covered in blood, as his hand went through the table like it was made of paper.
"I am what I am. I couldn't seem to find anyone more appropriate to help me with my plans. And Hunt, you and I have a lot of things in common, yet you fail to realize it."
As he takes a seat in the chair, he takes off his shirt, rips it apart and bandages his injured hand to stop the excessive bleeding.
A long silence followed the statements made by Tyr. A sigh could be heard as Hunt ran his hand through his own hair. "We men are wretched things." He said before going silent yet again. The intercom went quiet entirely.
Hunt worked his way through the halls in his usual attire - a black suit with a blue vest beneath it. The door to the interrogation room opened as he walked in with a fresh shirt and offered it out, closing the door behind him with his foot. "There is no greater enemy than the mortal enemy of a friend, but I'm not sure if I can call you that quite yet. There's still a lot of unanswered questions." Joshua Hunt made his way around the table and took a seat, nonchalantly kicking his legs up onto the table.
"You should probably avoid breaking my furniture though. It really ruins the mood of a good conversation. Nevertheless, let's talk about this... Situation. You've been lied to, stabbed in the back, used to further someone else's motives. The only similarities we have are those as far as I can see, but I don't aim for revenge against the people who did it to me." He crossed his arms behind his head. "So you need help, but you should be aware - we don't condone revenge missions. Even if the enemy of my enemy is my friend, there are some risks you just shouldn't take. Emotionally driven situations are... Unpredictable." He appeared calm and collected. Neutral to the topic and towards Tyr. He was difficult to read. "So beyond coming to me, what was your plan?"
"There's a lot more going on than simple betrayal here."
He lets out a deep breath, while shaking his head.
"All I want from you, or whoever runs this thing, is to give me a helping hand. Times are tough on someone who made half of the universe hunt him down, and the second half wanting nothing to do with a Samarran, y'know. And I think you could use someone with my skillset."
Just as he finishes his sentence, he pulls up his leg sleeve, to reveal the Samarran Intelligence tattoo.
"You help me out with my thing, and I'll gladly serve whatever purpose you want."
He sat there, thinking for a moment. "Do you know what we do? Who we even are?" Hunt gestured around the room.
"Whether you noticed or not, this is a vessel of Core origin. An AP-535 Bullhead, to be precise. If you were able to look out a window, you'd probably see an Osiris loitering nearby." He chuckled. "If you had shown up months ago, you'd see a Monument-Class Liberty Dreadnought, too. We're quite efficient at surviving, and very capable at obtaining things we may want or even need, but we're not after ships, or power, or domination. The very core of every living thing's instincts is the will to survive. Survival is an imperative. In order to survive, we preserve the tools and machinations of mankind or any sentient species, really. Knowledge, technology, weaponry - all of it is of interest to us. All of it can be misused by people out there to further whatever personal agenda they might have. We don't get involved with wars unless we have no other choice, or see strategic value or point of gain in them. It's not our place to tamper with local affairs, so to speak."
Hunt stretched out with a brief yawn.
"You know where I came from, and there are a lot more people here with more... Colorful, origin points. You'd be no exception. There would be a lot expected from you, but ultimately the decision of acceptance is not mine. I hold no official rank here. I'm just an adviser, really." He leaned forward and placed his legs on the ground with an unusually loud impact.
"But, I can put in a good word for you. It isn't for old times sake or any other reason beyond that there is potential in you. So, based on what you've been told, has this captivated your interest outside your plans for revenge?"