Investigation (Part One)

Reno opened his eyes.

 The sky outside the window was still dark.

 Reno sat up in bed, put on his robe, and went out to the balcony.

 From here, looking into the distance, he could see a clear and pristine lake, bathed in soft moonlight, shimmering with ripples on the surface. The wind blew, rustling the trees by the lake, and a refreshing fragrance wafted over.

 The New Federation government had long stipulated to return Earth to a state of tranquility and nature. They had relocated most of the industrial areas, reduced population density, eliminating the hustle and bustle of big cities. Earth's nights were quiet and peaceful, the scenery beautiful, like paradise on Earth.

 After completing the mission, due to the need for extensive repairs on the Abrode, Reno was placed in a military-affiliated sanatorium, the San Juan Mountain Sanatorium.

 Until the Abrode was completed or until a new assignment came, he would spend a leisurely vacation here.

 Perhaps accustomed to days of thunder and gunfire, faced with the serene and peaceful night, Reno couldn't sleep. It felt like the calm before the storm.

 Memories bubbled up like bubbles in water, constantly surfacing in his mind, recalling the days of entering the academy, the first enmity with Matthew, and the first meeting with Claire...

 Oh, the days of youth and recklessness.

 Once, he had dreams of commanding starships and roaming the galaxy.

 Once, he had been so close to his dreams.

 But in the end, dreams turned to dust. He didn't become the victor; instead, he became a part of those eliminated from the Alpha Academy.

 Luck or accident, the outcome was already predetermined.

 He was given a chance by fate, an opportunity to command a starship in this mission. For Reno, it was a chance to fulfill his dreams.

 When the dream was fulfilled, when he returned to Earth with the starship, he felt that all his dreams were realized, and there were no regrets in his heart.

 From now on, he would peacefully be a mech pilot, enjoying the thrill of space combat.

 Reno told himself, a faint smile on his face.

 He poured himself a glass of wine, sat on the wicker chair on the balcony, and quietly looked at the night sky in the distance.

 Morning arrived.

 Reno realized only then that, unconsciously, he had spent the latter half of the night sitting like this.

 His spirit was still vigorous. In his ship days, he had gone without sleep for thirty-six hours. Compared to that, the comfort he enjoyed now felt somewhat unusual.

 He washed his face in the bathroom, shaved off the stubble, and looked at himself in the mirror. Reno murmured, "Anyway, at least one dream has come true, hasn't it? Life is full of dreams, and this trip hasn't been in vain."

 The voice of the smart butler sounded at this moment: "You have a visitor."

 Now?

 Reno was taken aback, but he still said, "Let them in."

 The image in the vanity mirror changed, a man in a black suit with sunglasses stood at the door, pressing his wrist on the identity scanner of the door, saying, "Federal Fleet Investigative Bureau, here to see Captain Reno."

 The identity scanner scanned the identity chip implanted in the man's wrist, giving out Reno's name: Russell Hill.

 "A federal agent?" Reno was puzzled. "What does an agent want with me?"

 Russell Hill replied, "You misunderstand, Captain Reno. The Federal Fleet Investigative Bureau is not the same as the Federal Bureau of Investigation, although they only differ by two words, the former represents the Federal Fleet and is subordinate to the military, while the latter represents the federal government. Our main responsibility is to investigate military security issues within the fleet. We are usually not referred to as federal agents but as starship investigators."

 "I see. Why have I never heard of this department before?"

 "That's because you weren't a captain before. You should know that there are six security departments within the fleet, not just the military police."

 "That's quite a lot. No wonder people always say bureaucratic organizations are bloated."

 "That's true. Later, the federal government attempted to streamline some agencies."

 "And then?"

 "The four security departments became six."

 "..."

 "I mean, are you sure you want to keep talking to me like this?" Hill shrugged.

 Reno laughed. "Please wait a moment."

 He finished grooming, returned to the bedroom, straightened his collar, and then opened the door.

 "Can I come in now?" Hill said.

 "Of course." Reno smiled, stepping aside. "I must apologize for my behavior just now. My questions made it seem like I don't trust you."

 "I'm not upset." Hill entered the bedroom. "Suspicion is everyone's nature. A good attitude of suspicion helps ensure safety. In fact, in a while, I'll be asking you some questions too, and I hope you won't mind."

 "No problem." Reno opened the liquor cabinet and looked at Hill. "Tennessee? Martini? Or truffle liqueur?"

 "Thank you, but I need to stay alert while working." Hill found a seat and took out a pocket-sized brain recorder from his pocket. It was a portable optical brain recorder. He activated the recorder, and a beam of light projected in front of Hill. He was ready to record.

 "It's a good habit." Reno sat down on the balcony. "So, what do you want to ask me?"

 "Let's start with your military experience. Before coming here, I investigated your personal file. I noticed that you were conscripted three years ago. Before that, you were... a mechanic?"

 Hill asked while retrieving the file from the brain recorder.

 "Bellagard Mechanical Workshop, mech technician, mainly repairing security mechs for some private enterprises, occasionally doing some modifications, although not entirely legal, but I guess that's not under the jurisdiction of the fleet investigators."

 "We're starship investigators," Hill corrected. "After joining the military, you started as an infantryman. Due to your outstanding performance during the three-month special training, you were appointed as a squad leader and led them to achieve excellent results in the Berdai defense simulation. Shortly thereafter, due to your excellent driving talent, you were recommended to become a mech pilot and entered the fleet, becoming a mech trooper on the Abrode. During this time, your performance was rated as excellent. Half a year later, your mech squad lost its squad leader in a battle with the Zerg, and you became the successor squad leader. A year later, the commander of the mech battalion also died in battle, and you became the second battalion commander."

 "Those were two brutal battles."

 "Perhaps," Hill shrugged. "It must be admitted that you are a quite diligent and studious person. Being able to reach this point in just three years from an ordinary soldier is definitely not an easy task. It indirectly proves that your ability and luck are quite good."

 "Luck?" Reno was puzzled.

 "Isn't it?" Hill spread his hands. "In the Federal Fleet, each promotion has a minimum time requirement, and you've almost hit that mark every time. When you were eligible for promotion to squad leader after six months of service, your squad leader died. When you were eligible for promotion to battalion commander after a year and a half of service, your battalion commander also died. When the Abrode lost its captain and initiated the hierarchical leadership procedure, all superiors above you died. Instead, you, the mech commander charging at the forefront of the battle, took over as captain without a scratch, and miraculously brought a battered starship back to Earth..."

 "Don't you think you've been incredibly lucky?"