The mech's night-and-day stimulator was realistic enough that as long as they didn't open the cabin door to peer outside, and since the mech was traveling smoothly, people could feel like they're actually stepping on solid ground.

Once it was past 5 AM, the artificial sunlight started to intensify, carefully chasing away the pa.s.sengers' sleepiness.

Most of the teenagers were people that found it hard to wake up in the morning. On Beijing-β, the most frequently appearing suggestion in the headmaster's mail was that the school's first cla.s.s could be permanently delayed for two hours.

But really, in one's life, there was always a period of time when one was looking forward to sunrise everyday.

Human's potential was probably limitless. After the pa.s.sing of one night, the surviving youngsters had learned how to ignore pain on their own, without any teaching. They all pasted on their most energetic expression, and sat in a circle around the dining table. Jingshu Huang, as the lead, flipped her cla.s.s materials in her personal terminal open. The others copied what she did voluntarily. Not considering whether or not they could absorb or even read what was inside the text, at least they had the appearance of a model student.

After the morning self-study and breakfast, the students took a theoretical course while they were still digesting. The theoretical course content was on identifying numerous mech equipment, and...to visit a living Union Commodore.

Rickhead whispered, "So B4 really was a commodore before -- what rank of official is a commodore? I don't think there's one in the Eighth Galaxy, so is it even higher than the galaxy minister?"

"It probably has to depend on which galaxy's minister you're talking about," White said seriously, "If you're talking about our galaxy's minister, then forget it -- our minister's words aren't even as effective as B4's."

"Pffft, what are you talking about? They're not even on the same level." Jingshu Huang said disdainfully with an elder sister's demeanor.

Mint was a young lady out of this world, and did not care about the useless t.i.tles. She simply lamented with an offended expression, "None of this is important. How much is a commodore paid every year? He didn't give a s.h.i.+t about quitting it."

The group of naive kids weren't brave enough to talk to Jingheng Lin face to face. Five meters away from Lin, they chattered on without end, thinking that he couldn't hear them.

Jingheng Lin suspected that this was the payback for him always pretending to be mute and deaf. He had to settle on flipping through the underground route maps Bixing Lu stole out, pretending that that he couldn't hear anything.

Mint said in pretence earnest, "​Salary is usually determined by rank, right? Then it must be high. They probably have some under-the-table income on top of that."

Jingheng Lin: "......"

These children seemed to be suggesting that he was involved in corruption.

"Yeah," replied White, "The military needs to buy weapons regularly, and mechs - all of them can be 'taxed' right? Headmaster Lu funded the school by selling only a single mech, even if they only took 1% every time, that's a lot!"

Jingheng Lin stopped, realizing that this actually made some sense. According to this, he seemed to have pa.s.sed on several billions in cash.

Bixing Lu returned right at this moment, and unfortunately listened to all of this. Realizing that merely in the time he spent adjusting the mech internal structure diagram, the kids had already embarra.s.sed him thoroughly, he hurried over to chase them away. "Go, go, don't get in the way."

He looked up, and met Jingheng Lin's eyes. He quickly moved his gaze away, using looking back down to talk to his students as a reason, afraid to look at this direction again.

Yesterday, in a haze, Bixing Lu had forgotten that mechs were not the same as solid ground, and had a mental network that reached every corner of the mech. Even though Lin didn't seem to act any different towards him in the end, he had been on alert the whole morning. He just felt like his sneaky nasty hand was seen by the target...... then things would be impossible to explain.

He exercised his guilty hand uncomfortably, thinking, "What do I need you for? You only get into trouble."

The corner of Jingheng Lin's lips twitched slightly, showing a tiny, hidden hint of a smile. He actually didn't see anything. As there weren't any antibiotics, he had to endure the entire burden with only his immune system -- his body temperature hadn't even completely gone down yet. The first night, he was in an almost half-pa.s.sed out state; his attention was spread outside the mech, only enough to be on constant alert and ready for emergencies.

He looked at Bixing Lu's stiff back and surprisingly discovered that even the usually unabashed Bixing Lu had moments of embarra.s.sment.

It was because he was seen crying, was it?

Cute, but also a little bit pitiful.

Then Jingheng Lin smelled the smoke. His expressed coldly, not even turning back to reply, "It's common sense that flammable items and sprays are banned on mechs. If you want to smoke so badly, get the f.u.c.k out of the mech and you can smoke however much you want."

Monoeye Hawk could see that his wound was newly st.i.tched, and had difficulty getting about, so he blew a smoke ring right in his face, unafraid. "Ah, Commodore Lin, we haven't met in a night. I am pleased to see that you are alive and well."

Jingheng Lin walked forward a few steps without a word. Monoeye Hawk thought that he was pa.s.sively willing to back off, and was pleased by it. With a cigarette in his mouth, he inhaled a deep dose of nicotine. But what he hadn't expected was that before the smoke could enter his lungs, an alarm went off in his brain. The mercenary, based on his instincts by many years of getting into fights, backed up half a step instantly, narrowly missing a gust of water spurted out from the drinking fountain. But the cigarette had already been doused.

Some people forgot who was in charge without a day of being beaten up.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

"So are you."

After a full-on verbal fight, Jingheng Lin unfolded the underground route map open as if nothing had happened, waving the old Persian cat over, "There are three underground pa.s.sages recorded in the s.p.a.ce station, starting from the boundary of the Seventh and Eight Galaxies. They extend all the way towards extraterritorial regions in three separate directions, and have more than a thousand illegal transfer points - your Eighth Galaxy has such a fully developed smuggling ecosystem that it's literally the pillar industry - I've circled all of the three transfer points closest to us, take a look and check if they're reliable.

One couldn't mess around when it came to interstellar transfers -- the joke would come to an end when there was a blackhole. In human activity areas, there was a ma.s.sive transfer network, and every dot was paired with an interstellar coordinate. In normal terms, "transferring" was jumping between these dots according to your energy reserves and mech capability. Sometimes, there would be some deviation due to interference or the pilot's state. Deviation no larger than a thousandth AU were seen as acceptable. (see notes)

Every mech, legal or not, was equipped with a "universal sailing map", which had the transfer network clearly marked on it.

And "illegal transfer points" were unverified coordinates out of the well-known map -- like hidden pa.s.sages concocted in secret.

Monoeye Hawk stretched out his wrist, his expression twisted, receiving the map in his personal terminal. After a while, he nodded once, "All three of the coordinates look real, although they have different directions. One's headed for Planet Cayley, and that's definitely out of the equation. Another's headed for the no man's land at the edge of the Seventh and Eighth Galaxies, and the last is headed for extraterrestrial regions. Commodore Lin, I've heard that the Union's Admiral is a functionless ancient, and has long been only a name, and that you're the real one in power -- let me ask you, what is the situation right now, and where should we go?"

"Communication between the galaxies have completely been destroyed, and Eden relies on the network's hardware to a degree, which means it probably won't be able to be preserved either. All of the Eighth Galaxies have fallen into enemy hands, and the Union has no hope of striking back." Jingheng Lin's voice was still a bit raspy, and he cleared his throat slightly. He then went on to say, "These years, the Union hasn't been able to let go of military autonomy since it wants to keep its central power control intact. If the interstellar pirates can instigate someone high up in the Union's ranks to defect, and take the Silver Fortress through a shortcut, as can be seen clearly, the entire military system would collapse entirely in a short period of time."

Monoeye Hawk was flabbergasted. "And you people haven't solved it yet? What's f.u.c.king wrong with you guys?"

"A conflict of interests." Jingheng Lin's gaze drifted far away, and saw Bixing Lu, who was facing Zhanlu, introducing high level mechs to his students. Lin then said casually, "Since the pirates have only been small forces of guerilla in the past for so many years, the Union's always been optimistic towards its safety. It thought that it was impossible for interstellar pirates to have any substantial population in harsh extraterrestrial regions, and even if they did cause a brief period of chaos, when the Union fully reacted, it could soon annihilate with an army dozens of times larger than theirs. The interstellar pirates' era was supposed to be over, but no one knew that the strength the pirates showed were just the tip of the iceberg, and that they could hide for more than two hundred years."

Monoeye Hawk lowered his voice. "You mean that someone's been supporting pirates out in the extraterrestrial regions all these years."

"You probably remember how humiliated the Cayley Guard was when they were kicked out of the Eighth Galaxy -- Ares Von was basically naked when he crawled out of here. But right now, he has at least a mechanical troop made of medium to heavy hypers.p.a.ce mechs." Jingheng Lin took his gaze back, pressing his voice even lower. No one was around them. These two exchanged a conversation in urgent and light voices, kind of like gangsters whispering to each other.

Jingheng Lin's gaze sc.r.a.ped through Monoeye Hawk's face like a knife. "Where did his men and mechs come from? At least they can't be born from him?"

Monoeye Hawk's eyes were close to spurting jets of fire. "If Xin Lu were still..."

"Of course he couldn't be," Jingheng Lin said almost inaudibly, "It's been so many years now, do you still not understand? Of course they had to wipe him out first."

Monoeye Hawk's differently colored irises instantaneously shrank. "What are you saying?"

Too lazy to repeat his words, Jingheng Lin only shot him a meaningful look, and turned around without a word, walking towards 001, slightly paralyzed from the waist down. When he pa.s.sed by the students, the few students, along with one single teacher, were all tensed for some reason. They all automatically put their feet together, standing straight in a row.

Commodore Lin gave a conditioned reflex, "At ease."

He only registered what he just said after finis.h.i.+ng it. When he looked up, he saw a row of wooden sticks all staring at their feet in formation -- the born and raised wild monkeys had only seen military training in dramas, and didn't know how to put their feet.

Rickhead spoke. "B...Commodore, which foot should I ease, right or left?"

Resignedly, Jingheng Lin gave a nonchalant wave of his hands, and pointed at another tiny flight of stairs across from the lounge on the second floor. "That's a training room, which contains fitness, weightlessness and mech operation simulating equipment. I've given all of you access to the training room, you're free to use it anytime you want."

Bixing Lu lowered his head, and let out a simple "um".

This kid was usually as extroverted as one could be, never knowing what giving other people s.p.a.ce was. Back then, when they first met out in Beijing-β's atmosphere, this human dripped his nosebleed in Commodore Lin's nutrition liquid, but wasn't as embarra.s.sed as he was now.

Jingheng Lin, without any other choice, stretched out his hand and waved it in front of Bixing Lu's face. "Fine, just pretend that I saw nothing, is that enough?"

Bixing Lu, having heard this, was even more horrified -- his unnerving suspicion had been proven to be true!

Although Commodore Lin was a distant person, and also sarcastic to the point of being harsh, but Bixing Lu, having bothered him for more than five years on Beijing-β, always thought one-sidedly that they were friendly acquaintances with each other. But friendly as they were, what the heck was touching the other's face while they were asleep?

Basically textbook-level suspicious intentions, one of the ten most used scenarios in s.m.u.t!

But as the horror flit away, another tiny and different notion popped up.

Bixing Lu thought, "He didn't kick my s.h.i.+t out even if in this situation?"

Jingheng Lin was covered in bandages, so his clothes were only draped over him loosely. Bixing Lu sneaked a look at him, and for some reason, remembered the time when he had just found him out in Beijing-β's atmosphere. Of course, someone who was resting soaking in nutritional liquid couldn't have any clothes on, and to this day, Bixing Lu still remembered his shock when he first curiously pulled the cabin door open and saw the person inside. The body that had gone through many years of tough training had not the slightest bit of flab on it, all of its indexes at their peaks. Like an elegant standard body sketch. That specific sketch had always been saved in the depths of his mind peacefully, but now, caused by the appearance of Lin wrapped in bandages, the restless sketch had came out to exhibit

Itself in public. Bixing Lu covered his nose unconsciously.

Jingheng Lin: "What?"

Bixing Lu answered painfully, "It's too dry in the mech."

"Too delicate," Jingheng Lin thought half-complainingly.

But then he shook his head, and said, "There should be a humidifier in the medical room that you can move to the training room to use. Just remember to seal the doors tight, an over-humid environment can easily damage the mech's parts."

Monoeye Hawk, who followed them over here, was furious everywhere, feeling that the conspiring b.a.s.t.a.r.d Lin was willing to do anything to get his son on his side, "What do you want? Didn't you just say that smoke and fire and sprays were prohibited?"

Jingheng Lin waved at the teacher and his students. Bixing Lu didn't want to interfere with the war between the two for the first time. He fled, taking his students with him.

Arriving at the entrance of the training room, he saw Jingheng Lin directing Zhanlu and Monoeye Hawk to move 001 to a nearby enclosed medical room. For some reason, he had shooed Zhanlu out to guard. Zhanlu, being the friendly AI that he was, noticed him looking, and nodded at him from a distance.

Bixing Lu waved back at  him, and felt like his thoughts had been going on a rollercoaster lately. A lot of self-sentimental thoughts had been circulating in his brain.

In the medical room, a four-sided translucent gla.s.s wall rose up. 001 was tossed on the ground, and Monoeye Hawk had his hands wrapped around his chest.

"What, you have to avoid Zhanlu when you're torturing people? Afraid that your mech's behavior's going to be corrupted?"

"Shut the f.u.c.k up and get over here to help," Jingheng Lin said.

Monoeye Hawk snickered, and stretched out a leg to place 001's body straight. He witnessed cuffs come out of the ground, binding 001's limbs. At the same time, two slender probes poked out, piercing into 001's brain. The probes were attached to Jingheng Lin's personal terminal.

Monoeye Hawk spoke. "Or do you feel that your tutor's watching you from Zhanlu's eyes -- that his student, the one he's most proud of, has a set of torture instruments banned since the start of the Union?"

Man had unlimited creativity when it came to torturing its own kind. There were the ancient "Ten Great Tortures", and when man progressed to the interstellar era, they had the wings of scientific progression. No matter how nasty its inner political conflict was, the Union did have "human rights above all" as its cornerstone. Since the beginning of the NSE, the Union had released its newest version of the Human Rights Declaration. The remnants of the "poison" from the previous era were viewed as unforgivable.

Jingheng Lin stirred the probes through his personal terminal with a stone silent. Instantly, 001, who had been unconscious for several days since he was forced out of the mental network, with a spasm, forced to awaken.

His pupils widened, breath quickening. He struggled once, and then looked at his surroundings, terrified.

"We'll skip over our introductions," Jingheng Lin said, "There are a few things I have to check with you to determine our next route."

001 opened his mouth to curse, "Bullsh..."

Before he could finish his words, his voice was suddenly muted. He was like a fish out of water, mouth opening, twitching once uncontrollably. The sound of air coming out the wrong way was coming from his throat.

Monoeye Hawk asked, interested, "What is this?"

"Direct stimulation to the pain nerves, allowing people to experience the physical pain that unable to be experienced by living people." Jingheng Lin replied without looking up once, and then said to 001, "You've misunderstood what I just said. I didn't plan on wasting time on getting a confession, I'm going to dissect your brain. Stay in there and try to not die immediately."

Author's Note:

AU is the average distance from Earth to the Sun. Earth is where humans originated, and the astronomical research in the solar system is valuable riches left by the primitive humans.

*proud primitive human face.jpg*