Chapter 2: August 25th, 2350

“Are you serious?” Mizu replied to his divisional officer. He showed an expression of frustration and anger on his face.

“I am afraid so,” the commander replied in a Southeastern Asian accent. He sat at his desk as he put his hands together on the table.

It had been almost over a year and a half since the deadly attack on Batrice. Many things seemed to have changed as Mizu was a little bit older now. He was standing in a small luxurious office. Compared to over a year ago, Mizu’s attire was much different now. He was now wearing a UHN jumpsuit. The familiar red and blue colors of the uniform and black magnetic boots gave the testament that he had succeeded in his mission. In the center of his uniform was the rank insignia of a petty officer 3^rd class. He was a little bit stockier now, with more muscle tone to his body. Even his hair was cut short a little bit more to fit military regulations.

“Ugh...” Mizu waved his hand at his divisional officer. “What? Did they make you bend over backwards and serve the rest of the COC for this?”

The commander seemed used to the somewhat playful antics of Mizu that he didn’t take the comment too seriously. Mizu was used to this room. It was a pristine place. It wasn’t a large room, but the office consisted of a luxury style red and blue carpet. The finely metal-crafted desk was positioned in the center, with several chairs lined throughout the area. Throughout the walls were several displays that depicted the live feeds of surrounding areas, including the vast hangar bay of Fort Batrice. One of the displays was a wall-mounted rotating picture display that showed photographs of most likely the officer’s family and achievements. The typical officer’s room depicted the fantastic luxuries of being a high-ranking official of the station.

Standing in a relaxed composure next to him was a woman that was taller but also wearing a military UHN jumpsuit. Being skinny, she was lankier in appearance. Her facial features were more reminiscent of a person whose bloodline followed from places such as Malaysia or Indonesia. Her skin complexion was darker than Mizu’s paler face, and her hair was also cut short so drastically that some would mistake her for a man by accident. It was a common issue for people with longer hair. Gravity got in everyone’s way, and the military rules were final. To prevent hair from getting into a person’s face, the hair had to be cut down or tied up. Women generally suffered the most because of this rule, and they had to choose between having it cut short or tied up into a bun. This woman decided to have it almost taken off her head completely.

“Sir ... no offense, but what the fuck?” the woman almost angrily replied in a thick Southeast Asian accent to the commander. “We are pilots. We take up the roles and responsibilities of helping move the shit around this station. Now you are asking us to take up this role too?”

“I am afraid so, Hamiza,” the commander replied to the woman as Mizu looked upon him. The commander was a seemingly understandable person that Mizu knew well. Even for the rank of a high official, Commander Trai was a person who started as an enlisted and worked his way up. He once claimed that his family descended from both Vietnam and Cambodia back on former Earth. His facial features even showed a hint of this as well. Unlike the other two, he wore a prominent red and blue officer’s attire. He had a large handlebar mustache that he properly kept maintained as he looked upon the other two.

“Are you going to be informing the other pilots as well?” Hamiza asked with annoyance in her voice.

“Yes, I will, but that will be for tomorrow’s plan of the day,” Trai said.

“I can’t believe that you are going to do this,” Mizu commented as he waved his hand at him. “Being a pilot is hard work as it is. Now you are asking us to start taking up duty section watches?”

Trai simply sighed. “Look ... I will have to inform all of my personnel of the sacrifices they will have to perform. We have been lucky we made it this far, but there are over a hundred in my section that works with the hangar section. I am responsible for the logistics chain, but even with Fort Batrice completed, the rest of the crew and staff are overtaxed as it is.”

“We know, sir,” Hamiza replied. “We already take up ten-hour shifts ... but this ... this is bullshit.”

“Hamiza, that is enough. I have done as much as I could to defend our position, but the COC is crawling all over me. They see this department as free hands to start taking up additional watches as they try to resolve the technical problems on the station. Even if Fort Batrice is completed, they still need to work out the issues involved.”

“Do they want us to suck their cocks too?” Mizu asked.

“Heh...” Hamiza laughed.

“That is enough from the both of you,” Trai remarked. “Look ... I sympathize with you two. Even I have to start taking up additional watches too. You are not the only one. I sympathize with the whole team that works on Fort Batrice, but my hands are tied on this.”

“Is that why you asked us to come here? Sir?” Mizu asked.

“Partly. I asked you two to come here because you two will be the first to take up the watches. You will be taking up the night watches and providing assistance to the MAs in station security.”

“Security?” Hamiza asked.

“Yes. Tomorrow, the T’rintar clan are sending their ambassadors to talk to the Prime Minister.”

“Again?” Mizu almost chuckled. “Now they want us to play guard dogs as we fly the shuttles back and forth to the station?”

Mizu thought about it as he heard the words being spoken. Being told that he was going to be taking up night watches was one thing, but the fact that the T’rintar clan was coming to the Batrice system annoyed him. Hamiza herself was even more agitated.

Hamiza herself shook her head. “It’s such...”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Trai interrupted. “I am not much in the mood to hear the news either. They are sending their best ambassadors to the capital of New Phnom Penh to talk to Heng Chanvatey. After they finish, they will fly their shuttle to come and check out the fully operational status of Fort Batrice.”

“We are letting the enemy come and check out one of the most powerful battle station that the UHN ever saw?” Hamiza asked.

“Well ... they aren’t precisely our enemy ... for the most part,” Mizu remarked. “More like having a bank robber come to a children’s birthday party.”

Hamiza gave a scornful look at him, but she understood its meaning enough that she dropped what she was going to say.

“Tomorrow,” Trai explained. “I want the both of you to make your regular trip to the Batrice Shipyards. Your schedule will be somewhat close to the arrival of the ambassador’s shuttle.”

“What landing pad are they coming into land?” Hamiza asked.

“Pad 2. You guys will be landing at pad 1. I have to make sure that my staff are well prepared for the whole event. The supply department is promising the best meals that the ambassadors could ever have,” he cleared his throat. “I expect you two to be on your best behavior. Remember ... whatever we think about the Itrean clan, it is up to us to stay out of politics as much as possible. That attitude ... even if it is mutual ... must be contained.”

Trai’s words were circulating in Mizu’s mind. He remained a little bit quiet at first as he considered the news. So much had happened in one year alone, and so much more information was available now. The enemy aliens known as the Itreans had three clans ... the T’rintar, Aksren, and Shal’rein. The human race had chosen to ally with the T’rintar clan to have their protection against the other Itrean clans. There were insane rumors that the Itreans came from planet Earth and that they were the surviving descendants of long-dead life forms known as dinosaurs. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter. What did matter was that the ambassadors were simply carrying along with a peace treaty like it was nothing. His opinions only seemed to be tainted as he saw the mysterious group of alien women that began to show up on the space station. The wives of UHN personnel on duty were questionable of their true motives. As each day passed, more and more of these reptilian-like people were coming aboard the station. Hamiza’s opinion was even more aggressive.

“Fine ... orders are orders, sir,” Hamiza said as she waved her hand. “But, I would like to have my complaints on file of the situation. With us getting less time to sleep, this puts our flying skills into question. It endangers the lives of personnel on the station.”

“And you are one of our best pilots,” Trai consoled her. “That is why I am happy to see you help train Mizu with your abilities. I want you two together sharing the same responsibilities of everything. If the COC has to start forcing my people to work in other compartments, then I can at least try to keep my people together regardless.”

Mizu knew the divisional officer was telling the truth. Hamiza was one of the best pilots on Fort Batrice amongst the enlisted staff. Her abilities were so good that it put some of the officer pilots to shame. If there was anybody to learn from on how to fly a shuttle, it was her. Her rank of a petty officer 2^nd class was a sign that she should be higher than that. Regardless, her mouth made her an obvious target. She didn’t hesitate to voice her opinion, and neither did he.

“I have to side with Hamiza on this too, sir,” Mizu replied. “We might as well be robots. Where is the time to get something to drink? Where is the time for the whole R and R, shit? At this rate, they will find one of the shuttles running into the walls of Fort Batrice and point and laugh at the two pilots that can’t get any sleep.”

Trai shrugged. “Let’s just say blame it on the Itreans for putting us into this. The enemy declared war on us over a year ago. Batrice promises to keep this station in full combat status. If the Aksren or Shal’rein clans ever attack us again, they won’t know what hit them. We must ensure that this station works so that more of our constructed warships can go and help the other colonies that rather ... recklessly decided that it was better not to have a military and play ‘hippie’ in the first place.”

Trai decided to keep the rest of his opinions confined. Mizu knew that Trai was more professional in the large meetings with the rest of the staff. He usually kept his views to himself, but he had more liberty to be vocal because only two people were present. Mizu was felt inclined to agree with him.

“Aye, sir,” Mizu replied.

“Dismissed...” Trai remarked as he tapped his fingers on the desk. Both Hamiza and Mizu gave a salute to Trai. The familiar hand salute of keeping the right hand placed to the forehead and eyebrow made the commander look confused at first.

“Wait...” Trai told them. “Remember the new hand salute that is being passed. Batrice is changing its salute pretty soon. Honestly, I don’t care which way it is done right now, but do remember to salute the new way when you are out there. Fleet Admiral Baxton is watching everything with the ambassadors coming aboard with great interest. He prefers the new method over anything else and is adamant about it. The last thing that I want is to have the Fleet Admiral breathing down my neck because of stupid shit.”

Both of the two nodded their heads as Trai waved them off. He was not angry but just giving them a friendly reminder. The two proceeded to leave as they reached the sliding door. It opened as the two walked out of the hallway. Mizu looked at the door as it closed behind him.

Both Mizu and Hamiza were standing in the rather pretty hallway where the officer’s staterooms were located. All along the passageway were the rows of different colony flags painted on the tile-like deck. They began their long trek down the hallway to reach the elevator that would lead to the central atrium below.

“Ugh...” Hamiza replied. “I am going to have less time with my husband now ... fucking hell.”

“I agree that it is bullshit,” Mizu said. “We now have to take up armed watches along with our daily chores.”

“Imagine having to tell the whole department that shit. All because of the fact that they still can’t fix the damn power blackouts on the station.”

Mizu sighed. Fort Batrice’s completion was monumental after a year of the attack, but there was a price to it, even with the rushed job. He could still remember the series of unannounced power shortages that were happening on the space station. It would be routine as the emergency generators would kick in before the main reactor would be fully active again. This would cause power failures and power anomalies to hit throughout the station regularly. It was the final little kink in the chain that needed to be fixed, but it was taking months to resolve it. Engineers were doing their best to resolve the situation, but it was a headache to take care of. It had become a regular event on the station, and Mizu witnessed some minutes as the power shut off and the emergency power turned on because the fusion reactor decided to have a glitch.

“Those fucking engineers have been working on this for over two months,” Hamiza said. “The pride of Batrice is on the line to make sure this place works...”

“Maybe they are getting too much pussy from the T’rintar clan women coming to here,” Mizu joked.

“Maybe they are ... then again, I do wonder if the Itreans are responsible for this shit.”

Mizu gave a questioning look as they were getting closer and closer to the elevator. “What do you mean he asked?”

“Well, the errors didn’t start to happen until the T’rintar clan started to come aboard more and more.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be our allies?”

“It doesn’t mean shit. Don’t forget we blew up one of their spy ships less than nine months ago. They only see us as a way to save their species from extinction. They didn’t hesitate to bash Eutera to the ground before that too.”

“True...”

“Don’t tell me you are getting soft with those Yuknans?”

That word as Mizu thought about it. It was a new slang word of the proper name Yutilians to symbolize that of disgusting. It was generally identified as the prime subspecies that worked in the T’rintar clan. While he held some concept of disgust with the Itreans in general, it was for different reasons. The word just didn’t seem to make sense.

“Ugh ... that word is so ... stupid,” Mizu remarked as he smiled and shook his head.

“What, Yuknan?”

“Yeah ... I just feel like I can come up with a better word or something to identify them.” They reached the elevator door as it slid open. They walked inside as they looked at each other. “Like ... I don’t know ... thieves or ... Akrit or ... Trinity of thieves or ... Men humpers or ... ugh...”

“Yeah, well, when you come up with a better word, let me know,” Hamiza said. She lifted up her left arm and tapped a button. A three-dimensional display activated as she linked up with the elevator controls. She pressed the bottom floor as the elevator began to move downward.

“Sounds like the elevator needs to be worked on some more as well,” Mizu commented.

“What do you mean? ... oh ... yeah, that’s right ... that ear of yours.”

Mizu tapped his left ear. He could hear the tiny fluctuations that were going on with the elevator as it was moving. The frequency of the sound that it was giving off while in motion was an indicator that it wasn’t operating at its greatest efficiency. It also always served as a reminder that it was an augmented ear. While it looked no different from any other ear, there was a slightly indented line inserted correctly into his head.

“Damn nice that you got that shit,” Hamiza commented with envy.

“Hey, it isn’t my fault that you decided to get a pair of Tenix H-20s for augmented hands,” Mizu chided her. “All you need is one to pilot the latest shuttlecraft.”

“Yeah, and if I lose my other hand by accident, who is going to be piloting those pile of moving gun boxes anyway? Certainly not you.”

Mizu watched as the elevator came to a stop. Its doors opened up to reveal the central courtyard of Fort Batrice. They stepped out as he began to remark upon the scenery. It was nothing new to him, but the area was one of the more ideal spots of the massive space station. Located in the northern large spinning drum, this was the place where civilians and military personnel got a chance to hang out. Using centripetal force, the great drum would spin to produce an artificial gravity to those that lived inside. This section alone completely wrapped around itself instead of it being closed off like several of the departments and rooms. If you walk east or west, you would eventually walk around the entire drum and find yourself back from where you started.

This was the city of New Sydney. It was one of the two great populated locations on Fort Batrice, and it was an area where hundreds of thousands of individuals resided. The colossal station allowed not only military personnel to serve proudly, but their families could also be housed in the many military housing apartments that were built. Civilian personnel and commercialism followed in its wake to make homes here. Even if the space station was designed to serve as a military starbase first, it became an economic hub and powerhouse in the UWA.

Mizu and Hamiza were among the many of the individuals that lived in this location. It was a vast area. Looking up was the great central passageway that had the elevators that lead to here. He could see closed-off sections that blocked the eye from seeing everything. However, what could be seen were numerous buildings, each one allocated to serve as apartments, housing, facilities, administration centers, stores, shops, restaurants, and more. Not far was a park that had different trees and flora that grew for children to come and play. For a space station, it was an incredible achievement.

“Another day in paradise...” Mizu remarked almost jokingly. They both stood on a street by the elevator. Due to the great size of the location, the roads were nothing like that of the capital. It was not large enough to house the typical civilian vehicles, but it was large enough for emergency vehicles to be moved through once the crowds of people got out of the way. The city construction consisted of squared sections to ensure that every piece of land was fully utilized in the space station. Massive tram systems were built that allowed people to get from one location to another more efficiently and quicker. It was late in the day. The space station itself even simulated day and night cycles for those that lived on worlds that had those types of operating time schedules. It was another reminder to Mizu that his timetable was about to get even busier.

“Yeah ... let’s go,” Hamiza commented as they began to walk down the street. “Finally done with the day, and the news couldn’t get any worse.”

The people that resided came from all walks of life. Some were UHN crews as expected, dressed in various uniforms that indicated their position and role for the station. A mother, probably a spouse of somebody that worked on the station, would be pushing her hover stroller with her newborn baby. A couple of older civilian men would be playing mahjong on a table by a store. Another person would be walking and looking at a tablet while almost bumping into other people by accident. It was, all in all, a relaxed environment. There were even advertisements that were posted in both English and Chinese all over the place. Within less than several months of its completion, the great space station had been turned into a starbase that would rival anything that the UWA had ever created.

“You feel like getting something to eat?” Mizu asked Hamiza. “I’ll pay.”

Hamiza shrugged a little bit. “Nah ... lost my appetite. Now I have to tell my husband that I am going to be on watch on top of the shit that I already do.”

“I wonder if you can ask to be reassigned.”

Hamiza shook her head. “I am not fucking running just because the jackasses tell us that the workload is going to increase even more. Besides ... I like this place.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Mizu walked by a bread store. He looked at it briefly as before but noticed a sign that was posted on the sliding door. It stated, “No admissions for Itreans allowed. No applications accepted,” written in both English and Chinese.

“Starting to see that more and more often,” Mizu remarked to Hamiza.

“What?” Hamiza asked.

“The signs on these stores and restaurants.”

Hamiza looked at it as they walked past. “Oh ... yeah ... good riddance to those bitchin lizards.”

“Bitchin lizards...” Mizu commented with a smile as he nodded, hearing that. “I like that one. That actually should be the word we should use instead of Yuknans.”

Hamiza, for once, actually smiled a little from the comment, but she mainly was distracted with her own thoughts.

“Ugh ... at least cheer up a little bit,” Mizu told her. “That offer still stands if you want to get something to eat.”

“Tired...” she replied.

“Hmmm? Not even a little bit?”

Hamiza sighed. “Fine ... you win on this. Let’s go and get something small.”

“I know what cheers you up. A good chocolate shake can do wonders.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“The translation to that is ‘yes, I would love to have some,’” he replied to it.

There was a gaming alleyway where students were playing music and hanging out. Mizu only remembered it as some electropop rap 2320s style songs that he had no idea what they were. They walked past it as Mizu could see one of the Yutilian women that were walking in the crowd of people.

The Yutilians of the T’rintar clan shared an anthro-reptilian-like look. Compared to humans, they stood out a lot. They were much shorter and stood on two digitigrade legs. Generally, they had green-like scales that were mixed with varieties of other colors. This one was wearing the typical yellow and black shirt and dress, a favored style on Batrice. She had a dark blue feathered green tail. All her feathers that protruded from her arms and top forehead were the familiar dark blue. Next to her small pointed snout was an etched engraving of a lance next to her raptor-like eyes. It must have been some form of a religious marker on her face. Something that Mizu noted was that she was pregnant. Her belly protruded a little bit underneath her budding breasts that were kept confined by the clothing. She seemed to be carrying along with her business, but it was hard for her to do so. While some people didn’t care, a few people were giving her a look of annoyance at her presence. Even Mizu felt somewhat inclined by it.

He figured that this was one of the many UWAN Itrean dater women that were married to one of the men on the station. He had only heard of the wild rumors that were involved with this form of supposed arranged marriages.

“Watch out ... UWAN Mail order bride,” Mizu told Hamiza quietly.

Hamiza only gave a scolding look towards the woman. She said nothing else as they walked by.

They finally reached a small outdoor restaurant with the name of “Bora’s Shake and Grill.” It mainly was a grab-and-go sort of place, but Mizu did enjoy the hangout joint that it seemed to appeal to. Even with only two tables, there always seemed to be that one table that was always available. Much as before, there was a couple that was sitting at the table. They were just about to make the table vacant for the incoming two that were eyeing it.

“Perfect...” Mizu commented as they reached the small stand. The crowds were relatively light today, that Mizu noted. The counter had a simple menu up on display. An older man by the name of Bora owned the place.

“Ugh ... I wonder when Bora is finally going to learn English,” Hamiza remarked quietly as she was nearing the counter. “Chinese may be the secondary language, but that doesn’t give an excuse not to learn English.”

Mizu almost shrugged as he finally saw Bora walked up to the counter. Dressed in his usual red and green grill attire, he looked at the two, bowed slightly, and addressed the two.

“Nín hǎo. Nǐ jīntiān xiǎng yào shénme?” Bora asked them.

“Ummm...” Mizu thought about it briefly. “Yī fèn qiǎokèlì nǎi xī and ummm ... Zhà shǔ tiáo.”

Bora nodded his head. He walked behind his counter to go and fetch the order. Hamiza looked at Mizu as he tapped his left hand. The augmented hand projected a 3d image menu system as he checked out the order’s total cost. One batch of French fries and a chocolate milkshake had a total cost of three mard. He went and moved his right hand over the checkout icon. With a simple press of the confirm button, the money was electronically sent to his computer register. After that, Mizu closed his hand as the projection image faded.

“Thank you,” Hamiza commented as Bora came out with the milkshake and small paper bowl of French fries. Mizu went and picked up the fries as Hamiza took her chocolate shake. Bora smiled at the two as the next set of customers approached from behind to take their place.

The two-eyed the table. As expected and on time, the couple got out of their seat to leave the empty table. Mizu and Hamiza went and had a seat at the table. The moment that Hamiza put her butt on the comfortable framed cushioned seats, she briefly closed her eyes as if she was relieved to sit down.

“See? Good to sit down and relax a little bit,” Mizu replied.

She sighed again. “If I were any more stupid, I would think that you were trying to make a move on me.”

Her gaze was as serious as it always was. Mizu looked at her. Her figure was something that he was used to looking at. She was not exactly the most attractive woman on the station. The ring on her finger was more than enough to tell any man or woman that she was taken. If anything, the small chest that she had combined with her very short-cut hair made her look more masculine to him than anything else.

“Can you blame me?” Mizu happily replied to her. He gave a smile and a wink at her. “Just because you are married doesn’t mean I can’t tell you that you are still sexy.”

She took a quick sip of her milkshake as she relished the taste. “Nah ... I wouldn’t fuck you. Not my type.”

“Nah, you just prefer the big muscle man named Tim that you have sex with for two hours.”

She pointed her finger at him. “I never told you that,” she said as Mizu grabbed a French fry and started to eat it.

“Nope, but you whispered it when you nodded off in the shuttle ride to Darwin Mega.”

“Ah, son of a bitch,” she said as she expressed some anger and looked away. “My husband always told me that I talk in my sleep. It isn’t that loud, though, but those fucking ears of yours.”

“You know it,” Mizu happily replied as he grabbed a French fry and continued munching it down. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved at her. “I won’t tell the others unless you want me to.”

“Fuck no,” she went and retook a sip. “So ... any luck with the women’s department.”

“Nah ... Grace said no when I asked her last week. Told me to go jump off a cliff.”

Hamiza chuckled a little bit. “At this rate, you might as well go and bang one of those bitchin lizards. Besides ... I am not interested.”

“Ah, you wound me,” Mizu mockingly replied to her. “For that, I am going to tell you that you prefer ivon dick to your husband.”

“Do that, and you die.” She paused as she shook her head. She knew that he was joking with her. “Let us watch what is on the news.” She stopped as she was struggling to change the topic. She activated her left augmented hand as the projection screen turned on. She accessed the table’s display projector, and with a simple button press, the screen on the table activated.

“Too bad all this shit is a day old,” Hamiza remarked. “Fort Batrice and their damned rules about keeping things disconnected from most of the UWA.”

Mizu knew very well what she was talking about. Fort Batrice’s connection to the United World Alliance Network was strictly on an emergency channel only. Everything was carefully screened to ensure that nothing could be hacked. It seemed to have worked as well. He recalled hearing about the event where a super-intelligent AI managed to take control of Mars. It could have taken control of anything, but because Fort Batrice purposely limits access to the UWAN system, there was no way that the AI could have reached the space station. Instead, only small windows are made to download content throughout the UWA each day. There, the computers and personnel carefully screen the data before it is broadcasted to the station’s personnel. Fort Batrice might have seen it as strict on its actions, but security was a priority one. The catch, of course, was that it was challenging to communicate with families on the ground or anywhere else. Everything would be prerecorded messages rather than people strictly talking with one another. There were, of course, the standard secure comms networks that were utilized on the station that only UHN ships, T’rintar clan ships, and the occasional freighter would operate to talk to one another.