Chapter 6: Revelations Part 1

Tired and exhausted, Mizu reached his apartment once again. The watch was over as he saw his door close. He began to take off his uniform while discarding it all over the floor. He didn’t want to say anything as the staggered sleep made him feel that he had been through two days of work had passed by.

The explosion and the two Itrean women were on his mind. It was something that he didn’t want to think about. He could only envision that he would be grabbed and dragged to every corner of the space station.

“Li’lo’s arguments didn’t make any sense...” he told himself as he took off his boots. “You can’t just blow up your own shuttle and act like you are all innocent. Don’t let them fool you. The Itreans are liars. She is just playing coy and nice. Hand her a knife, and she would slit my throat if she had the chance.”

He undid the Velcro on his uniform as he struggled to get that taken off of him as quickly as he could. He put his hand to his head to steady his thoughts. He began to breathe heavily.

“But her story was true...” he said to himself. “She didn’t get her meal from the previous watch. She was telling the truth, at least on that part. Everything else she said could have been a lie, though. I have to review the things she told me.”

He pulled his uniform as he slid the uniform off of him. He then pulled his shirt off to reveal only his underwear. He climbed into bed as he pulled the sheets up. He felt the desire to close his eyes and be done with it. He would only get a few hours of extra sleep before breakfast and the inevitable shit that was going to happen in the day.

“Tomorrow...” he said. “I need to have things planned for tomorrow. What was it that Li’lo said ... Jenta ... she was unique. She was a Fu’mal ... Fo’mil?”

He tapped his augmented hand as the menu screen popped up. Lying on his back, the projection flowed up to his face as he used his other hand to go through the menu. His finger scrolled up the information. He used the digital input keyboard that popped up as he typed in “Foemil,” to see what would pop up.

The library shared between the humans and Itreans began to load up as it processed his search queries. Instantly, the display depicted the information on the Fo’mil. He began to read the data as it showed a typical Yutilian Fo’mil. This model that was posing for the camera was different than Jenta. She had the same pointed snout, flat-chested, feathery tail, and other features. The only real difference was that this one had different colored feathers being more brown and green in color. He silently read the information as it was displayed.

The Fo’mil is a religious sect in the Itrean clans. They consist of only 0.001% of the entire Itrean population. They thrive in all three current clans, with the Aksren clan having Aksren equivalents and the Shal’rein having the Shin’Fo’mil in turn. The belief in their ideology was that continued forced evolution by the use of bioengineering would ultimately end their way of life and bring society’s downfall. The Fo’mil are considered to be the oldest known existing religion (150,000 Earth years ago), with theories and beliefs that the sacred world of Itrea, the birthplace of all Itreans, will be found. The sects are considered to be pacifists by many, although conscription in the Itrean clan ranks does force them to be soldiers during times of conflict.

“Hmmm...” Mizu remarked. “So these people are very rare, and they are considered pacifists. So ... why would they have her imprisoned with her friend?” He continued to look through the description.

The Fo’mil’s beliefs have been a source of empowerment for the sects. While 99% of Itrean women have long evolved themselves to have breasts to feed their young, the Fo’mil remain staunch in their views. This includes the concept of laying eggs. Unlike most Itrean women that give birth to live young, the Fo’mil have even practiced traditions of creating rudimentary nests to house and protect their eggs prior to hatching.

“Ah ... so Li’lo was right,” he said to himself. “Jenta is a flatchested woman. I guess that makes sense.” He read the last passages of the description.

In 2349, the T’rintar clan would announce the discovery of Itrea. With negotiated peace between the UWA and the T’rintar clan, Earth, which was claimed to be Itrea, would be given to the T’rintar clan. The Fo’mil have championed this movement and consider the great pilgrimage to Earth a necessity. They are profound members to promote peace and non-violence throughout the clans. The Fo’mil have proven pivotal in providing evidence that they are the original descendants from Earth. This includes being the closest DNA providers to that of the saved DNA/bone samples of the Velociraptor (Velociraptor Mongoliensis), Oviraptor (Oviraptoridae), and the late Cretaceous Era Shark Species (Squalicorax). Despite the evidence, the Aksren clan and Shal’rein clan majority are still heavily skeptical of such claims as propaganda delivered by each Itrean clan is often filtered out and eliminated before it reaches the mainstream public. Despite this, the Fo’mil are usually the first to assist and purchase older ships to send to Itrea in hopes of restoring Earth to its former glory of the 20^th century.

“Velociraptors...” Mizu remarked. He decided to stop reading the description and typed up the Fo’mil that are currently on Fort Batrice. There were not many. Currently, there were at least a hundred and thirty-two Itreans that were onboard Fort Batrice. Only two, not including Jenta, were on the station. His search queries were putting him everywhere. Even saved UWAN dating websites showed up of Itrean women that were looking for human mates to become fathers. This was not what he was looking for, as something did come up. He summarized it out loud to himself.

“There is some sort of ceremony going to be conducted at the Taktsang Monastery in Uniapon today,” Mizu said. “It is a peaceful rally for the call to the end of violence throughout the Itrean clans, and the UWA ... looks like it will be happening today at 1600 ... I will need to check it out. Maybe ... they can help me.”

He closed his hand as the projection faded. He passed out in bed as exhaustion and sleep overrode him.

“Mizu ... Mizu!” Commander Trai called out to him.

Mizu felt ready to nod out. The microsleep that kicked in was quick as he snapped awake. Somewhat embarrassed, he did his best to hide it as he sat in the chair looking at his divisional officer. The office was as same as before.

“I apologize, sir,” Mizu remarked. “You already know.”

“Yep ... late-night watch. Hopefully, I won’t have you napping on the higher officials ... you know ... like me?”

“Ugh ... yeah, that was bad.”

“I am sure that you have questions to ask of me. There isn’t much planned on the shipment since the hangar bay is still shut down.”

“Yeah, and I imagine that the shipments will be insane once it is reopened.”

“Yep,” Trai confirmed.

“Ummm...” Mizu remarked as he shifted his posture on the chair. “Do they happen to know when they will be done with the investigations?”

“No clue yet. The debris is still being collected for the investigations. They understand that they have a small time frame to gather everything before we have to get the shipments to return to normal again. Most likely in the next couple of days.”

“In that case, it sounds like we just fiddle with our thumbs until the time being.”

“As that your way of asking for more work?”

“Ah ... no, sir. The night watches are fine.”

“I don’t have anything planned for the day ... with the exception of one thing. It is why I called you here in the office.”

“I can provide what I know from Li’lo and Jenta, the two suspected terrorists. I don’t know if it will help much that the investigators may already know, but...”

Trai stood up from his chair, interrupting Mizu’s words. He walked around the desk to get a good look at him.

“I was planning on gathering that to be sent up to the chain of command ... however, I will not be the one delivering the message.”

“Sir?”

“Stand up. I need to look at your uniform.”

Mizu wondered what his divisional officer was inquiring about as he stood up from his seat. The shorter stature man overlooked his uniform carefully, picking out any form of lint that may have gathered on Mizu’s attire.

“You will be seeing Fleet Admiral Baxton today at 0900,” Trai said.

“What?” Mizu expressed a form of shock upon hearing it. “Why?”

“He personally wants to see you.”

“Ah... 0900 is about twenty minutes from now. I am not going to have enough time to get changed to something nicer than this.”

“I know. The notice just came in for me about ten minutes ago. I voiced my objections, but his schedule is filled up today. He overruled it and requested to have a talk with you.”

“Chain of command be damned...” Mizu remarked as he shook his head. “Well ... that is one way of waking me up, sir.”

“Yes. He doesn’t care about your uniform. He has already read up on your profile.”

“I knew that an explosion on the station is one thing, but a lowly pilot like me?”

Trai’s brow peaked as he looked at the last piece of lint that was on Mizu’s right shoulder. “It is all that I can do,” he told him. Despite the notification, Mizu didn’t feel too nervous about the news, but it still went through his mind like a tidal wave.

“Alright then, sir,” Mizu told him. Trai patted Mizu’s shoulder as he gave a cold nod to him. “Make sure to arrive early for him. It’s not only your head that is on the line.”

The words were not reassuring. The idea of seeing the overseer of Fort Batrice was alarming at best. The boss of his boss’s boss was one that could send shivers down one’s spine. He took a deep breath as he left the office and proceeded to head to see the Fleet Admiral himself.

Mizu’s mind was all over the place as he approached the passageway that led to the great stateroom of perhaps one of the most powerful military leaders that the UWA had ever seen. On the one hand, he has never been here, but he knew that it was the location just because of the environment and setting that was established.

The passageway consisted of the great seal of the UHN that took up the entire deck. As he walked down, he could see numerous forms of adornments that were dedicated to the commissioning of Fort Batrice. Certificates printed out in paper and digital displays showed the photographs and still images of the great space station’s construction. There was even a silly cartoon drawing of some political ad that showed the fortress as Itrean ships were being shredded to pieces by the spinning buzz saw disks of Fort Batrice’s weapons arrays.

The gray passageways were turning whiter and light blue as Mizu got closer to the end of the hall. It was as if this portion of the space station was all dedicated to one thing. This fleet admiral was the man that controlled the destinies of every man, woman, and child on the space station itself. Even for the most formidable of individuals, Mizu could feel that his legs were getting heavier. His apprehension was apparent as he did his best to remain calm.

“It is alright...” Mizu said to himself. “I didn’t do anything wrong ... this is just another guy ... he exactly can’t rip my piloting qualifications away, can he?” he thought about it. “Actually, he could. He could probably do a lot of things or just have someone else do it.”

He would take deep breaths as he neared the sliding door. The door itself was much like the other sliding doors of the station, but this one was different. It was beautifully polished with what looked like an ivory finish.

As Mizu reached the door, he looked at some sort of well-crafted and painted emblem that was on it. This symbol was very much like the one that he saw at the school not that long ago. The familiar red and blue background was on it. In the center was the great green crutch cross. This time the silhouette of Fort Batrice was painted on top of the cross like a beacon of hope.

Mizu remarked to himself as he was reminded of his patriotism. He took a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself. He looked at the panel by the door and tapped the button.

He waited just a moment as he knew the fleet admiral was looking at the camera feed from his office. Finally, for what seemed like minutes, the door had opened up.

“You may enter,” a male voice echoed out. “Salute, state your name and your purpose for being here.”

Mizu walked into the edge of the room. He didn’t look too closely at the surroundings yet, but he could feel the awe-inspiring presence of somebody powerful inside the center of the room. He barely looked and could tell an officer with two stars decorated in a red and blue uniform. He had a solid pale complexion and had short blond hair. He was seated at first as he stood up to wait for Mizu to respond.

Without thinking, Mizu’s military training told him to salute as he did the traditional UHN salute. He lifted his right hand that was flat and open, as he pressed the tips of his fingers to the edge of his eyebrow.

“Petty Officer, Mizu reporting as ordered, sir,” he said as he almost dropped his salute. The officer instead gave him a stern look.

“No ... no, that is the old way of saluting, petty officer and pilot, Mizu,” Baxton said. His voice had a broad Australian accent to it. His demeanor was dominating to him. “What is the way that we want to salute on Fort Batrice?”

Surprised, Mizu foolishly had upset the fleet admiral. His form of salute was becoming more and more obsolete. The UHN had its own form of saluting, but the Batrice salute was all different. Anybody that came to Batrice had to salute in this way to be appropriately recognized by the chain of command. He bit his tongue as he knew that he screwed up.

“Forgive me, sir,” Mizu apologized. He was going to do the proper salute this time. He dropped his hand salute, clenched his fist, and hit the left portion of his chest. Holding the fist, he swung it, so it was perpendicular to the ground with the fingers aimed toward the ground, till the fist was pointing directly at the fleet admiral.

Baxton seemed impressed enough that he repeated the same method. The officer clenched his fist, hit the left portion of his chest with it, and then swung it outward to point directly at Mizu.

“Very good,” Baxton remarked as he dropped his salute. Mizu replied the same as he stood at attention. Baxton, instead, began to walk away from his desk. It was here that Mizu had a chance to evaluate the room while not letting his eyes wander too much.

Baxton’s room was little more than a stateroom that was meant for the most elite of officers. It was finely decorated with the most expensive of materials. There was a Silk yellow and black carpet woven from Cebravis. There was an artificially wood-pressed desk most likely crafted from Aphadus, and the lavish blue and red-framed cushioned seats that were made from Oshun. Inside the room was a carefully framed portrait of the fleet admiral. It was not a photograph but a painting. Numerous displays showed the entire layout of various cameras of the space station. On the back were other displays that showed still pictures of Baxton as he stood beside Prime Minister Chanvatey. Another photo showed the fleet admiral doing the same salute as there were other officers and enlisted doing the same new salute. Above the picture was the same green crutched cross. On his desk was a swagger stick that was in a solid glass case. It had a long brown color and green bristles at the tip.

“Parade rest, Mizu,” Baxton said as Mizu followed the order to the letter. He stood at a relaxed stance as the fleet admiral began to walk around him. He didn’t seem to be looking at Mizu as he stared straight forward. Baxton demanded the most professional of the people that worked underneath him.

The rumors had to be accurate as Mizu thought about it. Baxton was a man that had a self-image that appeared to look over everyone’s shoulder. He would be quiet in one hand but would be very vocal on the media. His ideas were sometimes considered to be ... extreme to some. He never really appeared to be happy and was always downright serious. To anger him was an act of foolishness. Something was driving this man’s personality, though. He only knew so much about his history.

Baxton was a hardliner in UWA and UHN politics. Some hated him, and others considered him the right-hand man of Chanvatey. On Batrice, he was a hero to most. On the other colonies, he was a troublemaker to many. He didn’t appear to be snobbish at first but was very direct instead.

“Do you know why you are here? You may speak when I ask,” Baxton remarked as he walked ahead of Mizu’s vision. He could see the short back red cloak of the officer, the familiar sight of the former Martian colors of the UHN. The only difference was that he didn’t wear his signature cover over his head. His hands were tucked to his back as he looked at the portrait.

“I do not know, sir,” Mizu answered.

“There was an explosion on my station yesterday, pilot. Would you care to explain to me what it is that you saw?”

“Sir ... why ask me if the investigators have already.”

He waved his hand. “I asked you a question ... you must answer it. I demand that you tell me what it was that you saw.”

Mizu’s mind was trying to figure out why there was so much importance in this question. Why call him up here when the investigators could quickly provide the information? He had no choice but to follow the orders given to him.

“My ... my shuttle that I was piloting came down to land,” Mizu explained. “We watched as the Itrean shuttlecraft came to land ... the staff were departing ... the Ambassadors left the shuttle, and then it exploded.”

“You are the only one to have seen the explosion directly?” Baxton asked as he turned around and walked up to him. He looked directly into his eyes as Mizu kept his attention directed forward to the best of his abilities. It was challenging as the fleet admiral was directly in his vision, causing his eyes to veer towards him naturally.

“Yes, sir ... I think ... as far as I know from what I am told, it is, sir.”

“You saw the shuttle explode?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did it explode?”

“From the ... the center ... it happened so fast ... it is the best that I can answer, sir.”

Mizu was doing his best to keep his composure. Baxton was a person who knew that he was in charge as he continued to walk around looking at the pilot.

“Did you see the two Itreans press the switch?” Baxton asked him

Mizu thought about it for a split second. He should be honest and direct to the best that he could. It was both true and untrue. If the question was in reference to what he personally saw, then it was best to be truthful.

“No, sir. I did not,” Mizu answered.

“You didn’t see them press the detonator that activated the bomb. Do you know that they are responsible?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I will ask again. Did you see the two Itreans known as Li’lo and Jenta hit that switch?”

“I ... I saw her trip, but I didn’t see her hit the detonator ... but I saw a recording in which she did.”

Baxton went up and folded up his arms as he looked with a stern look towards Mizu. “That is what you saw, then?”

“Yes, sir,”

The fleet admiral gave a brief nod. “Bloody hell...” It was said, but Mizu didn’t understand it enough in what he meant by it.

“Sir?” he asked the high-ranking official.

“I understand that you have been on duty overseeing the convicted terrorists. Is that true?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Zaza are just another rogue element in the Itrean savages. They represent a threat to us. At ease ... pilot, Mizu.”

With that, Mizu relaxed his stance upon hearing the fleet admiral’s words. He kept his hands together as he stood looking at him. With a single order, he was free to look a little more around the area while keeping his attention on Baxton.

“You are very important to this investigation, Mizu,” Baxton said as he walked up to his desk. His fingers pressed to a simple piece of paper. It was something rare to see these days. Quantum computers and processors made everything virtually paperless. Usually, anything done on hard paper was strictly for confidential purposes or something else such as special reports.

“We decide to let the Itreans onboard this station, and they decide to bring their ... problems to us...” Baxton remarked.

“Sir, permission to speak freely?” Mizu asked.

“You may until I deem unfit otherwise.”

“Why bring me up here? This was ... it was horrible, but this was just one thing.”

Baxton went and picked up the piece of paper as he looked at it. Mizu could not read it as it was too small and too far away to see it from his distance.

“You know the Itreans have brought their warships in this system three times, and each time that they did it was under malcontent?” Baxton said without looking at him.

“Yes, sir,” Mizu answered.

“The T’rintar clan ... they are just another alien menace. They represent the stained grass that can come underneath your boot. Before you know it, they are everywhere. The Itreans infest our systems. They bring their filth and perversions to us. They represent a threat to our way of society. Do you know that?”

“I do, sir,”

Baxton walked up to a small alcove that was in his room. It was next to his restroom door. The alcove was a sliding lip door that responded the moment he got next to it. When it opened up, it was enough for him to toss the paper inside of it. The moment the door slid closed, the lasers inside it disintegrated the paper, burning it to ash before the remains disappeared.

Baxton seemed to smile a little bit as he looked at Mizu. “I want to know of your opinion, pilot. How do you feel about the Itreans that sit in our space station?”

“They are not welcome, sir,” he almost hesitated in answering.

“Do you agree that they are dangerous?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Do you feel that it would be better that we removed them from the space station entirely?”

“Yes, I would.”

Baxton nodded his head. “What are your feelings of the mineral shipments to them?

“The sooner it ends, the better, sir.”

“I think I am beginning to like you, Mizu. Said like a true patriot of Batrice. Not like the idiotic peacemongering Cebravins or the disconnected politicians of Mars. In the end, the UHN and the UWA will owe it to the survival of the human race in due thanks because of the backs of Batrice and Gillan. Our people struggle in the mines as the others live, never knowing what we had to go through.”

“I agree, sir.”

“I read your report...” Baxton said as he tapped his desk. “You were a victim of two tragedies. You had to see the death of Chanvatey’s daughter. You were a hero that ran into the middle of a bombardment made by the Itreans ... all to save your niece.”

Mizu had to admit that the fleet admiral did his homework, although a simple search would have mostly said the same thing. Regardless, he felt inclined to believe in the fleet admiral’s words. On the one hand, he felt warm to the officer but also afraid of him. What if he said otherwise? Was this form of communication from officer to enlisted professional?

The fact was that Mizu also knew that it was important for officers to sometimes talk to the enlisted. Even his professional relationship with commander Trai was no different. In a different lifetime, he would consider Trai, a friend. With Baxton, however, it felt that he had no choice but to say yes. It was best to keep the fleet admiral happy regardless of any hesitation that he may have had.

“Yes ... it is true, sir,” Mizu confirmed.

“Travesty ... such a horrible event to occur,” Baxton said as he paced the room. He did not look at Mizu as he spoke. “In one event, the Prime Minister would lose his daughter ... all because of savages and their ill content. History repeats itself over and over again ... in the end, it is the heroes that we must remember. Your courage can never be forgotten. Your ear, for example ... you wouldn’t hesitate to run into a burning building. I was told that many of the children were killed instantly ... never knowing their attackers.”

Mizu nodded his head. “I agree, sir ... they were murderers.”

“It was because we didn’t have this station up soon enough. With the full construction of this space station, the Itreans would have never made it ... not one bloody shell on the streets of New Phnom Penh. Did you know that the UHN constantly condemned the construction of Fort Batrice?”

“No ... I didn’t know that, sir.”

“Did you know that eventually, the UWA pulled all funding for this battle station ... they said it cost too much to build it. Our great leaders believed that a powerful space station combined with a powerful military would be enough to repel an alien invasion, and yet ... the idiots decide to stomp down on construction. The people of Cebravis sway the society. Their peace-loving ways ask for us to lay down our arms and fornicate in their forests. Meanwhile ... the true villains show themselves. We were almost too late in getting this space station built. We would have been another vulnerable colony ready for the slaughter. It wouldn’t have been one lone Aksren scout ship that bashed us. It would have been a fleet. Batrice and Gillan would have been like Cipra in a few months’ time. Brave people like you didn’t need to be told. They heard the call and joined the military without a second needed.”

“I would have volunteered without having to see the Prime Minister’s daughter killed, sir,” Mizu proudly told him. “I believe in the actions of our ancestors. Just like the Khmer Alliance, we will stand against whatever powerful races or nations will come to attack us.”

“The Khmer Rouge...” The words seemed to echo in the room. There was a sense of pride that filled the place as if the fleet admiral was proud to hear the reference. “Such brave soldiers ... those people.” He slowed down in his pacing as he spoke to Mizu. “They never hesitated to follow their orders. They resisted against two powerful nations. They made choices that many would have questioned ... sometimes, one had to pull the grass out so that the new ones would grow. In the end, they made a paradise on former Earth. Your family can take pride in that, Mizu. You come from those magnificent people. The beauty of their cities of ancient Cambodia spread through Vietnam and Laos,” he clenched his fist and lightly waved it in the air. “A strong military, a strong defense, the right teachings, and the right people can make a colony stronger than ever before. Fleet Admiral Batrice herself was starting to see the light ... right before she passed away, of course. Like anything, time ravages us all.”

He walked to his desk as he almost sighed to himself. “I apologize for rambling, pilot Mizu,” he told him. “Chanvatey is a valued friend of mine. The fact that your action to save your niece in the very school his daughter was at ... it makes me see something in me. It inspires the bravery of all of us in what we can do. Yesterday, you saw another event ... brought upon us by terrorists. They didn’t even bother to try to kill their own. The T’rintar clan promises their protection to us against the other clans, and they can’t even protect themselves from their own people.”

Mizu nodded his head as he felt that the fleet admiral was trying to be friendly towards him. “I understand, sir.”

“What else did those ... perpetrators tell you last night?” Baxton asked Mizu.

“Sir ... it was unusual,” Mizu tried to be honest. “They were ... one of them was too scared to respond. The other one was very cooperative in answering questions.”

“Cooperative to tell a lie or outright confessing to their crimes?”

“One spoke for both of them. She claims that they are innocent. She does know a little bit about the Zaza, but it sounds more like common knowledge rather than anything special about it.”

“Hmmm ... the perpetrators share their loyalties with the Zaza well.”

“I ... don’t know if they truly did it, sir,” Mizu tried to defend them. “Li’lo claims to be a good friend to Ambassador Ifra. I also have to question motivation as well.”

“That is not your position to say that, pilot,” Baxton said as he pointed at him. “Their innocence is a screen of their horrible deeds. What else did they tell you?”

“Li’lo claims that her innocence comes from her ... tilon. It has everything to prove her innocence.”

“Ah ... that is what she is after. You claim that she might be innocent. The investigators disagree with you. They confiscated it and looked at it. In it is everything including the detonation program for the bomb and small messages to known outgoing members that maybe members of the Zaza ... possible other members that maybe on this station.”

“What?” Mizu reacted. The words took him by surprise as Baxton smiled at him.

“Surprised? You shouldn’t be, Mizu. The T’rintar are masters at lying. If this Li’lo had gotten the tilons, she would destroy the evidence.” Baxton stepped forward as he pointed his finger at him. “Did you know that this Li’lo was a defense attorney at a trial on Mars? Did you know that she was responsible for defending a Shal’rein captain that launched the attack on the colony of Aphadus?”