The following exchange was recorded between prisoners 83109 and 80113 at the Hel facility on Lokh. Most of the video captured during the exchange has been heavily corrupted and is unavailable for display. Audio is uncorrupted and will now be played.



There is a distinct patter of bare feet on cold stone. From the sound, it seems to be two men, one with a limp and significantly smaller than the second. A hard thud is heard along with the cracking of several bones. It is likely that one of the men has just been struck in the side, breaking multiple ribs.

A voice is heard. “Who do you think you are, coming into my home and telling my own men that they shouldn’t be taking orders from me?” The voice is a throaty bass, likely the larger of the men. Several more thuds and cracks are heard. The smaller man seems to be suffering a great deal of bodily damage.

Another voice is heard. “Look, I just meant that they are their own men, and they should look to the Great One for guidance here, not another man. We’re all equals here.” This voice is a soft tenor, likely the smaller man. More cracking is heard along with shouts of pain.

The first voice speaks again. “The Great One?! You think the Great One gives two flying hrags about men like us? No, we’ve got to fend for ourselves.” There is again the sound of cracking, and the shouts become screams this time. “I protect these men from the gangs! I teach them how to fight!” The screams drown out the sound of the first man’s voice again. “People like you teach them nothing but weakness.” The sound of a body falling to the floor can be heard.

The second voice laughs. “You think I’m weak? Do you even know why I’m here? I know why you’re here, 80113.” Hands can be heard sliding across the stone floor as the man on the ground tries to get up.

“Shut your mouth,” says the first voice. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” There can be heard now the sound of a blade being drawn while another slides across the stone floor. There’s a scuffling as the man on the floor tries to get up, but the sound of a blade cutting through the air interrupts it, meeting shortly thereafter a clang as the blades meet one another.

“Loriard Khuda’Feliiah, a former cargo ship offloader, was captured by the Armada yesterday for attempted assault over a dispute about a pet hrag. After resisting his capture and attempting to flee the Armadian Security Forces–” There is another clang, this one much louder. The second voice continues his recitation of the news broadcast. “His sentence was extended to four cycles in the Hel facility with no chance of parole. It is suspected he will die in the prison, where usually only the most hardened criminals are sent.” The second voice stops speaking, and for a few moments, the only sounds that can be heard are labored breathing and the sound of feet sliding across a bloody floor.

“Of course,” the second voice continued, “we both know that’s not what really happened. In reality, you were the only survivor of the ship that got hit by that pod from the alien ship that came from the other side of the Bifrost. That’s why you’re here. You’re here because you were so busy counting the guns you were supposed to be shipping to the underground Ginnung that you didn’t know the ship was coming, so when it smashed a big hole in your ship, you were still in a sealed compartment. The Armadians came through to investigate, and you were sent here.”

There is the sound of a man being picked up and thrown across the room into a wall, and there is a loud grunting as the man who was thrown has all the breath knocked out of his lungs. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” the first voice says. “I’m king here, now. I’m in charge, not you.”

There is a loud series of unpleasant-sounding snaps, cracks, and pops, and the man who had been thrown seems to be standing up slowly against the wall. “Do you want to know why I’m here, Loriard? I’ll tell you why.”



Video corruption ends here. Video will now be displayed.



A large man is propped against the wall, blood staining his ragged clothes, his breath weary and drawn out. Across the room, standing straight, is a short man with what seems to be a large, metal cuff on one leg, stopping just short of the top of the foot. He begins to speak. “It’s because they found out I was a Sheii’Cronell, and there’s already another one bidding candidacy to the Monarchy. There’s only allowed to be one Sheii’Cronell at a time, you see.”

In a single frame, the smaller man moves across the length of the room, thrusting his knife into the larger man’s sternum. The man falls back against the wall, his face blank as he begins to slide back down the wall to
the floor.

“I can’t be king out there,” the small man says, “but there’s no way I’m letting a weakling traitor like you stay king here.” He places his fingers over the larger man’s face, closing his dead eyes. He then takes the belt the larger man had been wearing and throws it over his shoulder. “At least I can be king here.” He walks away as guards and medical personnel are seen rushing into the room.



This concludes the recording of the exchange. No further data is found on prisoner 80113 other than a certification of death three centidays later. Prisoner 83109 is known to have been the first person to be removed from the Hel facility due to the risk of endangerment to other prisoners. Records indicate that he was transferred to Nivlahim for unknown reasons. Further records for prisoner 83109 cannot be found on the general access archives. All further information regarding 83109 is classified.