Gabatrix: Legacy (An Erotica and War Science Fiction Story)

          The darkness….it revolves around us in its never-ending gaze. Space serves its purpose. It is reality. It is a cold place where life supposedly could never exist. It should have never had the aspect of life to exist at all.

Yet, it did. The shrewd complexity of a simple event in history has played a defining role in the shape of what is now our existence. We stand in the void of darkness as we watch the incredible explosion of what humanity defines as “The Big Bang.” A brilliant light showers us. For eons of years, we watched as particles, laws of physics, and our eventual existence would pour in all directions. Millions of years are just seconds to us. Matter forms and melds to form stars. Stars are born and collapse. Black holes spray in the sphere pattern engrossing the matter into galaxies.

However, it may surprise you that it isn’t the way that the Itreans initially believed. Yes, there are those that believe in a similar concept to the Big Bang, but it only came into existence relatively recently. The question of “what was before Itrea?” had loomed but was only questioned by the few. To the Itreans, it was theorized that there was simply nothing. It is described by human scholars that so diligently study the Itreans’ past of the so-called Kili’Ka’Doa or “The Great Illumination.” In this belief, the universe slowly emerged from the darkness to what it is now. There was no explosion, and the universe slowly materialized into existence, where life would eventually evolve and flourish. With the loss of history, it was further speculated that the Kili’Ka’Doa was the truth. To the Itreans, the exploration of history was recorded only by the few, even amongst trillions of individuals. It may further surprise you that to the Itreans, many never even looked into it. This was in no way an insult to my people. The curiosity of scientific history has always been deluded by war and the trivial lives that we enjoy. Even scientists and philosophers were tied to various religious groups and dismissed by the majority of the overall society.

Kili’Ka’Doa was never a doctrine to life. It was mostly a background acceptance of societal views. Very little care was taken in questioning its validity. There was little to challenge it or deny it. This, in no way, meant that the Itreans were deeply troubled by having no “true” answer to how the universe came into existence. It was mostly never brought up in discussion. Instead, the concept of “Itreanism,” or the belief that a single homeworld is the birth of Itrean existence, was more paramount to historical thinking. This was what loomed in the minds of the Itreans rather than the birth of the cosmos. Others, including the consideration of other beings, such as the Kiline, further added to the mythos that resided in all Itreans.  

I see that you remain intrigued. No, I’m not the “Guide” that has been stringing you along to deliver his “verbose speeches of the cosmos.” You already know this, as my voice is nothing like his if gender were assigned to it. No, you already recognize the deep feminine voice. Perhaps, I’m another, the “contrarian” to offer another point of view of what everything is like and what exists in space.

We continue to watch the formation of the cosmos. The great galactic filaments begin to form in the universe. Each string carries an assortment of galaxies till time eventually brings us to the “Milky Way Galaxy.” It is now November 9th, of 2350 of the human calendars, where time is normal by human standards. It’s essential that we look down at the great object from on top. It allows a more accessible conveyance of what Itrean history is all about.

We stare at the galaxy, the tremendous spiral formation, as if we were looking at a galactic map. The darkness of space lies beyond and past it. This is where only the light of the central core and its many arms circulate in a slow but spinning pattern. It serves as a colorful reminder of the current “existence” of our surroundings. This is how the Itreans view things. Humanity, in its infancy, was a mere speck of existence when Itrean history is compared to it. History was measured in hundreds to thousands of years at a time rather than a single year of human history. This, in no way, meant that the Itreans were apathetic towards its past accomplishments. No doubt, many noteworthy events can happen in a single year. However, when things get measured in a span of tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of years of Itrean history, things become more…..monotonous.

I’m not here to contradict the views or knowledge of the “Cicerone” but merely to offer my own wisdom of what the universe was and currently is. It’s important that humanity does get a genuine grasp of the sheer magnitude of Itrean history, no matter the inconsistencies or mundane tedium that coexists with it. The reason that the Itreans operate today is because of its past. The attitudes of all Itrean individuals cannot be merely assigned to being holistically evil or holistically good. It is utterly complex and one that can forever be expanded upon. In the end, the survivors are left with the pieces of their past. They must decipher how their history is to become written.

A series of red, green, orange, brown, and purple lines appear over the galaxy. They are like connected veins where each dot is a star. Inside each star are civilizations. The red represents Aksren. The green, Yutilian. The purple, Shal’rein. The orange, Palierian. The brown, Alara’jal. These were the current clan species of all Itreans over 50,000 years ago. The vein network goes outward till it eventually consumes a quarter of the galaxy. This is the era of “New Space,” the time where modern Itrean history is the most successfully recorded and survived.

If you were here talking with the Guide last time, then you already know the history of Jalgren. “Jalgren, the Great,” as many often referred to him, is something of a unique character in Itrean history. He managed to force and identify the lingering issue that existed in Itrean philosophy and thinking within the course of his life. He was revolutionary, respected, and perhaps a lucky strategist at the same time. Jalgren is more than just an individual, but a new collective form of thinking that was rushed and forced into all Itreans. Thirty-one thousand years ago was the creation of the “modern” Itrean views. The language, thinking, societal beliefs, and moralist ideas were pressured and implemented rather well.

Eventually, we watch as the red lines consume all the other colors of lines and dots. We are watching what will become the Empire of Jalgren, the first time that all Itrean clan species were united under the Aksren clan. Many feared what Jalgren would bring forth both in his idealism and the possibility of committing outright genocide. However, the emperor was defined as one of the first “modern Itrean moralists” that existed within the 31,000-year time frame. His philosophy was reflected in cohabitation. To him, Jalgren felt that all Itreans working together could achieve sustainable goals and master colonizing the galaxy. New technologies could be discovered, and the fortification to protect the Itreans from the unknown could be accomplished. The great star fortresses are a tribute to Jalgren and Itrean engineering in their finest debut. Even as far as my father combatting the Emphra, the star fortresses’ legacy ensured that the Emphra invasions could be appropriately countered even in the worst and grandest of scenarios. Even the most racist of Itreans of various clan species still adhere to some of Jalgren’s principles of an adequate defense. The legacy that one Itrean is enough to fill libraries, with even my father teaching me every strategy that Jalgren utilized in his successful attempt to conquer the known galaxy.

However, even with the success and contributions that Jalgren achieved, even he was fallible. The great emperor made difficult choices with the use of military force. Human scholars can compare Jalgren as similar to a moralistic and idealistic dictator. Cohabitation was pressured by physical and military force. Even the aspect of efficiency and wise decision-making was a lesser priority over the values of sacrificing equipment and personnel to achieve his moral views and objectives. His empire, however, did succeed in eventually creating an efficient and operational system. A single language was adopted, as were most social and cultural views. Technology was slowly shared amongst all clan species. However, the cost of some freedoms was sometimes thrown out over that of achieving pure equality. This equality seemed to be ethically correct. However, using violence and fear to pressure this new form of balance slowly backfired. Humans are quick to criticize or defend Jalgren’s actions. Although, it is essential to note that this emperor was the first of his kind to be in such a high position of authority, let alone achieve galactic conquest, yet faced with such unique ideals among so few. It is truly unknown if Jalgren would have ultimately achieved his final goal of creating an Itrean Proto-Republic. In conclusion, it was the other Itreans that would decide that for themselves.

We watch the red lines slowly erode on the galactic map. It dissipates in a fashion that the dots no longer connect. Expansion is slow, but there are some notable achievements. Four great red dots appear, identifying the construction of the star fortresses. However, even this was not enough to save the empire from its own past. What you are seeing is the slow decline of the Empire of Jalgren. Long since his departure, societal views, economic downturn, and improper decision-making destroyed the idea of a non-caste society. The Itreans returned to a time that they had long been used to, the eventual decimation of the other. However, as the scenery begins to change, a figure slowly emerges that blocks out this map.

This individual is that of a Shal’rein. He is strong and adamant. He is like a statue. His face shows that of determination, but not overconfidence. He displays strength but not being too abrasive. His four-digit fingered gray hand is clenched into a fist and held slightly upward near his protruding “shark-like” snout. He carries two jeweled emerald earrings that pierce into his fin-like ears. His tail carries a chipped fin at the end. He wears the purple and black uniform of a Shal’rein soldier, properly decorated with three “Eon”jis” medals. The fins on his arm are gold painted to identify his own constructed glorified rank insignia. His hair is black, ignoring the traditions of purple-colored hair and representing nobody.

It’s now around 11,000 years ago. While humanity was struggling to get their civilizations started on Earth, the Itreans were busy tearing down theirs. By this time, racism, caste society, and discrimination were more than evident. The Aksren were still in absolute control over the other clan species’ worlds, but racism has a price.

The inevitable event would come down to a single individual, a Shal’rein, which the humans identify as Rototrein. He is the man that we are currently looking upon. Jalgren is the beginning, but Rototrein is the end. Interestingly, both famous individuals would be equally shared as heroes by almost all clan species regardless of the 20,000-year time span. Rototrein was a warrior that was born from my own home planet of Shal’tar, although many Shal’rein historians would boast that he was born on one of their worlds. In the end, what does matter is what happened to him.

Rototrein lived in one of the many underwater cities of Shal’tar. One day, an imperialist Shal’rein soldier broke into his home. There, the imperial soldier would loot his personal belongings, stealing everything of value. Rototrein was, as the humans would say, “penniless,” reduced to no money to live upon. He openly challenged and pressed charges against the soldier, requesting to get his money and belongings returned to him. Still, the courts refused, citing that it was in the interests of the empire that the soldier’s status and caste were more important than his income and property.

Angered, Rototrein lost all emotion. He had found the soldier’s home and killed him to reclaim his belongings. He managed to escape before he could be apprehended. What happened next would be further recorded in legend. It is said that during the time that he lived homeless, he personally witnessed what had happened to others that were in his situation. Once he regained his money, he understood what it was like to live in poverty. This was more than just inadequate wealth, but at a level that engrossed a vast majority of the Shal’rein populations. The decaying Empire of Jalgren had turned into an era of repression and relying on the few but influential loyalist Shal’rein to maintain the status quo.

It was here that Rototrein threw his money to the crowds of individuals and made his famous speech. “I hate this, and so do you. The Imperials rule us. We lived with this as if we were used to it all along, and it’s a crafted lie. We were better than this. We can be even better than ever before.”

Rototrein’s actions became a rallying cry. In less than a day, the city rebelled, and it spread like a tidal wave. By then, the imperial fleets were absent in orbit, the lack of funding crippling the empire’s military assets to safeguard their own controlled worlds. The rebellion swept through Shal’tar quickly, overcoming the opposition. However, Rototrein is sometimes considered to have been masterful in his strategy. An important rule in warfare is always to support your soldiers. Fight for them, and they will fight by your side. They were the same rules proclaimed by Jalgren. A vast amount of former imperial Shal’rein soldiers would give in and support the rebellion. However, even with the victory of taking Shal’tar, everyone knew that it could be short-lived. The empire still had vessels, while the Shal’rein had nothing.

Even so, the imperial presence over Shal’tar was almost nonexistent, a tactical maneuver of the gravest of consequences. Rototrein used this to his advantage. With the empire in the threat of returning, he began a massive effort to build an underwater fleet that could fight in space. The creation of the “modern” Shal’rein navy was forming.

When imperial forces finally returned in less than six months, they were greeted by Rototrein’s fleet. They came rushing from the oceans charging into imperials with complete surprise. The imperials were demoralized, while the Shal’rein were fighting for their freedom and survival. Rototrein made do with his promises. He was fighting for the Shal’rein and much more. The imperial fleet was decimated.

Rototrein continued to push his advances into liberating all Shal’rein worlds. In the course of years, he would engage against countless imperial forces in many famed hit-and-run skirmishes. He contacted and made alliances with the other clan species. Ultimately, other Aksren would turn against the empire as well. Rototrein had successfully united all the Itrean species in an all-out effort to take down the empire.

We watch as the image of Rototrein fade in the backdrop. The galactic map begins to change once again. In the course of years to even hundreds of years, the red dots and lines begin to vanish. The green, orange, purple, and brown colors start to reappear. The Rototrein Rebellion begins to unravel the empire slowly but methodically.

I made it my priority to study Rototrein in his strategic and tactical maneuvers. Even my father further pressed the need to understand what Rototrein was trying to accomplish in warfare. Indeed, the Shal’rein hero had managed to fight against overwhelming odds. The battles are dissected and evaluated. However, in those actions, Rototrein was more desperate in his situation. Yes, he managed to achieve much and accomplished a great deed in wiping out the Empire of Jalgren. However, he made numerous mistakes. Despite the claims from my people, Rototrein was far from perfect, even for a Shal’rein leader. There were multiple reasons why the empire collapsed. Thousands of years of decadence were the most significant factor. While racism and discrimination had been a focal point in the motivation to fight back, they had always existed. It thrived as far back as 26,000 years ago during the early middle ages of the empire. It was nothing new, nor was its impact a sudden shock to encourage a rebellion. Racism is and always is an inefficient system. The economic costs of pressuring society to commit and promote it only result in the society turning on itself. With that said, I am inclined to agree with some of Jalgren’s views, and there is profound evidence to suggest that the very early years of the Empire of Jalgren were prosperous ones for nearly everyone.

Undoubtedly, Rototrein still deserves a noteworthy mention in the history of the Itrean people. He had served a cause and would lead to a valiant struggle in the attempt to fight against the Empire of Jalgren. Rototrein personally admitted that he never imagined being the symbol of hope for all Itrean clan species, but he did embrace that recognition with honor. His children would further carry the fight watching the capital of the empire, Renlar, offering peace terms to Rototrein’s cause. As a result, the empire would be divided, and clan species would gain their freedom. There is a legend that Rototrein, himself, had ventured to one of the statues of Jalgren on Shal’tar. When others made the decision to tear down one of the statues, Rototrein halted it. He instead requested that the statue be preserved. He then bowed his head and kneeled before the Aksren emperor’s likeness. He gave the simple speech that is now etched on the sculpture’s base. It states, “I fought in your name. Equality for all.”

Why is all of this important? Why is the knowledge of a couple of Itreans amongst trillions worthy of being remembered? Because humanity has much to learn about the Itreans. Only by digging through history can a solution to a new era be found. Today, humanity’s struggle is against an overwhelming force. Is the UWA doomed to be destroyed? That depends on the choices and actions that are made. The T’rintar, Aksren, and Shal’rein clans serve as the “Tri’anta,” the three balancing powers in the galaxy. The UHN is insignificant in being able to fight back against such overwhelming firepower by one clan. That is why recapturing Cipra, humanity’s most bold but unwise move, proved to have varied results. Much like Rototrein, the UHN is a tiny spectacle in resources and strength. However, Rototrein still won against such severe odds. It’s an important lesson that if he and his supporters could do it, others could do it as well.

Regardless, overconfidence lurked in the hearts of the UHN and T’rintar clan. The Cipra Campaign has produced lingering consequences, many, as a matter of fact. While Cipra has been retaken, the expenses and loss of significant resources were extreme. An act of emotion against an enemy action over a year ago, it is something that I had wished that humanity avoided. Unfortunately, it was more than expected….predictable even if the results were seemingly victorious.

However…..all is not lost. As I said, it was predictable. A lingering plan must adhere to the many paths that go along to ensure its ultimate success. There is a solution to my father’s plan. It is there, and it can be reached. But you ask me what is that plan?

As the humans would say, “one does not always reveal all their cards on the table so easily.” Instead, it is time to close out this lesson. Time is passing, and I must rest for the impending day to come. Everything is set, and it’s up to the others around me to carry out their duties, including my own mate. I will leave you to the “Guide” so he can continue explaining to you everything that is happening.

You watch as the galactic map begins to fade into obscurity. The stars and their light disappear until there is almost nothing. It darkens more and more, leaving a background of solid black. Then you hear the sound that disturbs your hearing. It’s that of a facial covering being applied to oneself, followed by an elastic band snap. It is that of an eye patch being applied over one’s eye….. 

What comes into view is that of a single UHN Mark 12 space shuttle. The gray cylindrical vessel is dotted with a few arrays of small AIO turrets and several sets of various thrusters. Its rear engines have stopped firing as it has safely left the planet's orbit. Free from the gravitational hold, it coasts steadily in a straightforward direction. Its current destination is not made clear yet. However, the enclosed armored exterior is clearly seen when one continues to get closer and closer to the vessel. Written on the side of the shuttle is the name “Babur,” in both English and Chinese characters.

Finally, we move past the armored shell of the shuttle until we can see the ship's interior. Inside is a relatively comfortable living environment. The spacious area allows personnel to walk to the various rows of side-mounted passenger seats. The forward compartment leads to the pilot’s cockpit, while the rear section leads to other rooms. The lack of g-forces is the only thing that genuinely affects one another. The lack of gravity guarantees that everyone is buckled in, and their magnetic boots clamped down onto the deck to ensure that no one is floating freely.

There is at least eight personnel in the main compartment that is present. Six of these individuals are humans, while two of them are Itreans. Of these humans, four of them are dressed similarly. They wear a dark and light blue colored shirts with the words “Marine Recruit,” written in both English and Chinese. They also wear red and blue camouflage cargo pants. Of these four individuals, three appear to be men, while the other seems to be a woman. Each of these recruits appears different, coming from various environments. One of the men is skinny and lanky, having a mixed complexion, lightly bald, and similar to that of a person from Central America of former Earth. Another man is bulky and muscular, his pale complexion and short-cut brown hair reminiscent of someone from former Russia on Earth. The last of the three men look like a person of Chinese descent. He has a pale complexion and a light muscular, athletic body with short black hair. This individual is noticeable for the fact that he has two different colored eyes, the right eye being blue and the other being brown. The woman has a pale complexion with tied-up black hair, possibly that of a person of Greek or Turkish descent. A nice scar rides down her chin. A tattoo can be seen of a knife on her arm.

All of these individuals appear distracted or carrying some form of resentment of the current trip. However, even if they all appear this way, the man with Chinese features gathers the courage to break the ice and talk to the other recruits.

“My name’s Enlai. What’s yours?” he asks with a faint Martian accent. His tone is aggressive.

“Dariea,” the female recruit said beside him. She gave a mean and scornful look at Enlai. “What’s it to you?”

“Just curious.”

“The name’s Gavrill,” the Russian-like individual stated. His voice carried a broad but light Cebravin and Russian accent. The volume of his words boomed in the interior, somewhat startling the lanky individual. There was pride in that voice as he pounded his fist to his chest, but it was still an aggressive posture. Finally, the last recruit sitting beside him caved in, perhaps out of peer pressure.

“I’m…..I’m Isandro,” he said. The Martian accent was clear and present.

“What the hell is going on?” Enlai asked the other three. “Why the fuck are they sending us out here?”

“I don’t know,” Dariea remarked. “I just remember them telling me to get on the shuttle. I figure that they’re sending us home.”

“They can’t get rid of me,” Gavrill said. “The UHN needs more men. Can’t say that they need little women around to fight.” He deliberately tried to mock Dariea, and she didn’t seem pleased.

“Care to say that again?” Her voice carried hostility. She was showing a fit of anger.

“I say that you’re puny. UHN probably thought you’re too unfit to serve.”

“How about I rip your balls off and shove them down your throat, meat cake!”

“You couldn’t even scratch ol Gavrill.” He laughed as Dariea was getting ready to unfasten her seatbelt.

“That’s enough!” yelled another individual in the shuttle interior. It quickly seemed to silence the argument and for a good reason. This individual was a standing guard, his hand and arm braced to one of the shuttle interiors holding bars. He was dressed in combat armor and holding a carbine of some sort. His responsibility seemed attuned to the four individuals. It was impossible to see this individual’s face due to his helmet and visor. However, he was clearly agitated by the argument that broke out.

“What’s it to you?” Enlai asked the guard. “Care to explain what’s the meaning to all of this?”

“I’m just here to escort you to the UHN Lifen. I don’t need to explain anything else.”    

“The Lifen?”

“Umm…..it’s a ship,” Isandro tried to answer.

“I know it’s a ship,” Enlai snapped at the recruit lightly. “Why the hell they’re sending us to a fucking ship?”

Dariea and Gavrill both didn’t seem to have the answers.

Isandro lightly pushed the scene further. “Um….maybe because they were impressed with our performance in boot camp?” He nervously said.

“Hell no. Besides, it’s hard to smuggle the Hlen’weed in any way and then get access to the pain killers at the same time. It’s a bitch to do it, but so worth it. I had one in my division that managed to do it. Fucker never got caught…..yet.” She was looking intently at Enlai. “So, you managed to make some? Then you got caught. I bet they ITed your ass, good.”

“Oh, they did,” Enlai replied. “Of course, I learned how to handle it well. They really got on my case about it. All the extra physical training can’t break me, though.”

“Bullshit,” Gavrill mocked him. “You’re weaker than me. You probably tired out in two seconds. Starting crying….like babies.” He pointed the thumb at himself. “Not like ol Gavrill. I got strong…..really strong. Drill instructors can’t knock me down. I spit in their faces.”

“You…..really did that?” Isandro asked.

“Of course! Did it like….oh….three times. They pulled out the level 3 EPT on me. Their yelling and screaming couldn’t phase me one bit.”

“Level 3?” Enlai was shocked. “They did a level 2 on me before I finally….‘broke’ down.”

Isandro was studying the three in how they were reacting. All of them were boasting about their times in boot camp about getting in trouble. Things were starting to add up. Why were they heading to a transport ship?

“Enlai,” Isandro asked him. “Do you notice that all of us have some sort of…..record in our boot camp?”

“Yeah, what about it?” Enlai asked.

“I mean that all of us did something while we were in boot camp. Did they ask you to bring your belongings too?”

“Yes, dammit. We already said that we did.” Enlai looked at Gavrill and Dariea, who both gave similar affirmative nods. “Anyways, I did other shit too. Thought that they were just going to kick me out. Getting caught with Baldrine can get you thrown out, regardless if the UWA allows it or not. They just don’t allow it in boot camp….‘per UHN rules.’” He mocked his last statement.

“So, what did you do, little man?” Gavrill asked Isandro.

“I……I……,” Isandro rubbed the back of his head. “I was caught having sex with….one of the other recruits.”

“Oh shit!” Dariea seemed impressed. “She must have been good.”

“Umm…‘he’….actually.”

Enlai was about to join in as the other two snickered. However, he could see that Isandro lowered his face a little bit as if he didn’t want to say anything. He tried to remain somewhat considerate.

“What level did they EPT you?” Dariea asked.

“Level 3.”

“For getting caught having sex?” Enlai questioned. “I had somebody that got caught trying to fool around with the women in my division, but they only gave him level 2. He was like really nailing her in the restroom too. Sounds like your drill instructor was pretty strict.”

Once again, Isandro avoided commenting further. Enlai wasn’t going to push in his questioning. However, there was something oddly suspicious about how Isandro answered the questions. It was only a mild feeling that quickly passed.

“Something’s bad is going to happen to us,” Isandro remarked. There was a hint of fear in his voice.

“You worry too much,” Gavrill stated with a lack of care. “Besides….I get to kill Itreans. That’s all that matters.”

“Whatever,” Dariea shook her head. “It’s not like they’re going to flush us out of an airlock for being shitty recruits.” She lightly played with her hair and scoffed at the other recruits.

“Yeah….,” Enlai remarked. His eyes narrowed at the guard. It appeared that the guard had been listening in on the conversation. Even with a helmet on, he could see that the individual was shaking his head and silently laughing to himself. He wasn’t laughing with them but at the recruits. The moment Enlai realized this was something that started to make him a little nervous. The UHN had to have been desperate, but it wasn’t as if marine boot camp was filled with troublemaking recruits. He could at least rule out that the UHN wouldn’t kick them out of service yet. The guard’s presence was proof enough. But, then again, it still didn’t answer the fundamental question of what was going on.

The shuttle was getting closer to the UHN Lifen. By now, the vessel’s full details were apparent. Its hull had the beautiful side painted letters of “UHN Lifen, MT-27” written in both English and Chinese. The shuttle’s forward vectoring thrusters were starting to activate. The interior could feel a slight lurch forward while the vessel was slowing down and preparing to dock with the military transport.

“Attention, other passengers,” the guard called out to Mizu and the two Itreans. “It’s priority that these recruits are delivered to the Lifen. They will disembark before you.”

“Roger,” Mizu replied. The other two Itrean women did their series of quick nods to acknowledge the guard's request.

“Heh,” Gavrill mocked. “Yeah, look at us. We’re important!”

“Silence!” the guard snapped back at him. “I’m sure that all of you will have a….good time on the Lifen.”

He said nothing else as the shuttle continued to close in on the port side hatch of the military transport. The location would bring it away from the rotating centripetal ring. Mizu appeared to give a thorough look at the ship. Even the Itrean women held onto his hands as if they were holding back their enthusiasm for coming aboard. To Enlai, he didn’t care or mind what they were thinking about. Only Isandro seemed to mind and looked upon the structure of the ship. Ahead, the shuttle continued to slow down more and more. The spinning centripetal ring could be clearly seen. They were nearing their destination.

Javier was already aware of the man’s personality. His head and peripheral could see him approaching the door. It was the same door that led to the room where the new recruits had been delivered. The officer slowed his walk just enough to see Stone tap his finger on the door panel. In less than a second, the door opened up, and he walked inside. The sound of “Attention on deck!” was called out by one of the new recruits.

Seeing that Stone was now inside the recruit room, the officer was now clear to silently approach near the closed door. He wanted to wholeheartedly not disturb the master sergeant in his drilling. Curiosity was on Javier’s mind. He decided to be discreet. He didn’t have to do much on his part. The voice of Stone was so loud that it bled through the closed door. It was clear enough for Javier to overhear it. He now stood by the door as he listened.

“What the hell is this!” Stone yelled. “You call this a made-up bunk!? It looks like shit! My deranged grandmother could do a better job than you! What do I expect!?” WHAT DO I FUCKING EXPECT FROM THE COMEDIAN OF THE DIVISION!? And this!” There was a pause in his talking as if he was walking around the room. “You call this being in uniform!? I’ve seen scarecrows dressed better than you! I bet you even slept in your bunk with your uniform on, didn’t you!? Like the fucking dirtbag you are, Enlai. I should call you recruit crinkle! CHRIS FUCKING CRINKLE! All of you, drop! DROP RIGHT NOW! We’re starting this morning with fifty pushups, and after that, I’m going to show you how to make a goddamn bunk! Right now! Right, the fuck now!”

There was a pause as Javier’s eyes lightly widened. Even with the soundproofing of the door, it was never enough. He could only imagine what was going on in there.

“Louder!” Stone yelled.

“One!” all four of the recruits called out. “Two!”

“One!” Stone corrected them. There was another pause. “ONE! What is it supposed to be!? It’s ‘One, Master Sergeant! Two, Master Sergeant!’ Did they not teach you anything in the first week of boot camp? Or did all of you have a brain aneurism in your shuttle ride to this ship!?” 

“One, Master Sergeant!” they all called out in unison. “Two, Master Sergeant! Three, Master Sergeant!”

Javier had heard enough that he pulled away from the door. He had a big sigh of relief. His time through officer’s boot camp was more than enough for him. His curiosity was satiated.

“Phew….,” a female voice said behind Javier’s shoulder. “Sounds like Stone is having fun with our newbies in there.”

The officer wasn’t startled, but he turned to look upon another marine. The Oshunian woman had apparently snuck up to listen in as well. Standing beside her was an Aksren Itrean. The smaller statured anthro oviraptor was benevolent and fellow mate to the human marine woman. Of course, Javier already knew of the pair and the fact that they were inseparable.

“Sergeant Zalika, good morning,” Javier addressed her. “Bekra.”

“Good morning, sir,” Bekra politely nodded her head to him. She looked up at Zalika, who got close to the door and listened further to the commotion going inside the recruit training room. Zalika said nothing as if she was afraid to cause any sound to travel past the closed door.

“Oh…. he’s really giving it to them,” Zalika quietly said. Her Oshunian accent was well placed. “I bet he’s the wake-and-bake sort of drill sergeant. Oh….man….fuck I wouldn’t want to be in there.”

“Was your experience like this too?” Javier asked her.

“Pretty much, sir,” she replied to him. “Had a female drill instructor that wouldn’t stop at all. Phew…..damn…” she practically backed up, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Come…,” Bekra said. She took her four-digit hand and wrapped them around Zalika’s arm. The scaly fingers neatly gripped Zalika as she was almost pulled away from the door. The couple walked off as Javier smiled at the two.

Javier decided to move along as well. There was no further need to be there, and he proceeded to leave. He continued in his walk in the passageway for half a minute. Then, a part of his mind began to clear away all the details and nuances that the working day brought forth. Instead, he focused on the one thought again that made him who he was.

He reached the door to his quarters. They were the most unique of the many doors present. The red and blue emblem of the UHN seal was painted on it. It was technically supposed to be an officer’s stateroom, but it was his room. On the nametag of the door, it stated the words “CO Shira and XO Javier’s Stateroom” in both English and Chinese lettering. The very idea of a married coed officer’s room on a military warship was unthinkable, but these were unique circumstances. The Itreans offered a plethora of loopholes and non-established rules on how the UHN conducted their personal business. Nevertheless, a married couple of different species could serve as the leaders of the same ship. He could be with his lover with no threat of the UHN to tell him otherwise. Javier knew that he was a lucky man indeed. However, the road to reach such a position was not an easy feat and far from over.

He tapped the panel buttons a few times and watched the doors slide open. Upon stepping inside, he could already see the lavishness of the CO’s room. Even for a transport ship, it was pretty large. However, much of the interior was too dark to see. He was already used to the captain’s quirk of languishing in areas where the illumination could be poor. Any flooding light from the passageway revealed the edge of the table on the other side of the room before the doors completely closed behind him.

Of course, Javier already knew well enough what the CO was doing. She was sitting on her chair and looking at the display image that was on her table. The projected 3d image glowed blue and revealed a little bit of the surrounding area. The brief outlines of a glowing red burning cigarette could be seen. The smell of cigarette smoke filled the air, even distorting the image a few times while the vapor blew through it.

“Ugh…Just finished up watch,” Javier addressed her.

Shira’s only response was to take another drag of her cigarette. It was still too dark to see her complete appearance. But, what could be seen, was a single yellow working shark eye. On the right side was her purple flowing hair that completely covered the other eye and face. The exposed smooth gray skin and pointed snout were on the left side. Her pointed fin-like ears jutted out from her scalp and sides. Javier knew that her attention was focused on one single thing at the moment.

Before he even asked, Javier looked at what Shira was gazing upon. The projected image was that of a small star that was glowing red. However, this was no ordinary star. A large object was neatly planted over it, almost as that of a Dyson’s Ring. It consisted of a single structure. It was a slab of metal that was bent into two interconnecting rings. These rings had a large series of hatches, constructed buildings, and a massive trench that drove through the entire long track of the superstructure. This metal seemed more than capable of handling the enormous heat of the low-mass star. It almost appeared to be sitting on the star, floating, while the light rays pressed onto its rear sides without a care in the universe. On the northern pole trench was that of an enormous optical lens piece. This massive shell-like structure almost appeared to give the gigantic station an eye of some sort. Altogether, Javier knew of the vast station and its purpose.

“A star fortress…,” Javier remarked.

“Yes,” Shira said in her deep voice. Her tone was calm and collected, without any hint of emotion in it. “What star fortress is it?”

Javier looked at the object again as his mind tried to answer it. Finally, however, he was forced to guess. He only had a one out of four chance of getting it correct.

“Starfortress Trin’sica,” he answered.

“Incorrect,” she replied with utter clarity and lack of an accent. Her hand lifted and pointed at the structure. “Look closely at the construction hatches on the Eastern and Western quadrants on the superstructure ring. These are construction drydock hatches. You will notice that they are far larger than the other hatch doors of the other star fortresses. Try again, Javier.”

She lowered her finger and provided another hint. Her finger began to tap the console a few times. Finally, the room started to offer that of a low hum. It would echo in and out like a heartbeat. Javier was already well aware of what the sound was. It was that of the cosmic radiation that was sputtering from the star. The radiation was then converted into a sound that could be heard by human and Itrean hearing since sound didn’t travel in the vacuum of space. However, the uniqueness of the melody was further amplified by alterations in the superstructure. The enormity of the star fortress would alter the hum and rhythm. It made it almost sound like a low dial ring tone. It would echo in and out, further accompanying the hum. It was quite beautiful and sat in the human senses with a certain elegance. Javier could see that Shira was enjoying the converted music of this particular facility.

“Starfortress Ome’tci,” he tried again. This time, Javier was surer of what Shira was getting at.

“Correct,” Shira explained. “Formerly known as Starfortress Xil, of the Alara’jal clan. When it was being finished in construction, the drydock construction facilities were enlarged to accommodate the larger warships built and used by the Alara’jal. Do not forget this.”

Javier shook his head. “It never ceases to amaze me of the sheer magnitude of these fortresses.”

“Truly, a marvel of Itrean engineering at its finest,” Shira had a slight grin on her face that quickly faded. “Perfect. Indefatigable. Beautiful.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “Jalgren the Great knew what he was doing when he wanted to build such stations of great power. It cemented Itrean capability in securing its position in the galaxy.”

“True, but isn’t Ome’tci now in the hands of the Aksren clan?”

“Yes. One of the greatest battles to ever occur in Itrean history. Of course, there were profound reasons as to why the Alara’jal clan would lose their prized station.”

“The disease….the disease that played a significant role in wiping them out.”

“Many reasons,” she added and blew a large amount of smoke from her nostrils. “And yes, it’s now in the hands of the Aksren clan. A significant factor in why the Aksren are in such an advantageous position as we speak.”

She seemed to have enough. Shira’s hand flicked a button on the console shutting off the projection. The melody in the room came to an abrupt end. The overhead lights began to illuminate significantly. Even Javier’s eyes had to adjust momentarily. But, within a second, he could more appropriately view the room and Shira.

The captain of the UHN Lifen was the typical Shal’rein of the Itreans but with noticeable differences. She was somewhat short, about seven feet in height. Her red and blue jumpsuit uniform seemed to fit comfortably on her. However, she seemed well adjusted to sitting with her shark-like tail that protruded from her rear. Her seat was custom-built to allow proper spacing to prevent it from bending too hard into her tailbone. Javier could further see the black banding strap that held her eye patch over her right eye. Her long, tied-up purple hair radiated from the glow of the ship’s interior lights. A few other sets of items lay on the table, including the stopwatch Javier had given her as a gift.

The interior room consisted of that of a single large alcove and bed. There was a metal table, mounted chairs, restroom, displays, paintings of various ships, and multiple closets and cabinets. There was also a rather elegant bathtub that was near the bed. However, the tub and bed had a dark visor tinted screen covering them. This would help prevent other personnel from having their attention drawn to it. In addition, the UHN seal was neatly decorated on the bottom carpet. Technically, the room wasn’t much bigger than most rooms, but its layout still helped make it appear larger than necessary.

“Stone seems to be grilling the new recruits,” Javier told her.

“He’s doing his job,” she replied. She took another drag of her cigarette.