Agent of Chaos

part 1

by Kris Barton

Ziekiel Walters had a contact upon the alien world of Lyzaria. A contact who had been assigned to him by his superiors, in order to help him survive the horrendous ordeal that they knew lay ahead. The contact estimated the total stay upon the hellhole Lyzaria to be about a day, two at the most. The information was inaccurate; he had already spent a week here. A week trapped in the dark, stench-ridden, prison cell; practically pinned to the ground under the intense Lyzarian gravity. Ziekiel quickly suspected that this place was far worse than hell could ever hope or dream to be.

Despite his obvious discomfort and unquestionable anger, he could at least understand why the proceedings had taken so long, and why he was being treated exceptionally badly. His stay had lasted longer than the estimated two days because this was no ordinary murder investigation. The death of the Lyzarians beloved General Kolash had hit the Lyzarian people a lot harder than any Off-Worlder could’ve imagined. Consequently, his contact did not take into account the kind of time frame that global funeral arrangements would take.

Naturally, the Lyzarians believed that the popularity of the General amongst the Lyzarian population was too great for any Lyzarian to even think about committing the crime, and consequently they were quick to blame a Human suspect. And since Ziekiel was the only person to survive the assassination, he was the perfect candidate. The speculation was there and so facts became inconsequential and ultimately irrelevant. In this case, it wasn‘t innocent until proven guilty; it was guilty until proven innocent. If his accusers only knew the truth.

It had been almost two decades since the Human race had first encountered the Lyzarians and ever since that time there had been a general distrust between the two species. The distrust was due to both the lack of mutual understanding and the very obvious physical differences. Scientists had learned, centuries ago that Humans evolved from Apes; in contrast, the Lyzarians appeared to have evolved from some kind of lizard-like creature. The specifics were as yet unknown to Earth Gov.

The first contact with the lizard-like aliens went dismally. Due to communication difficulties a small skirmish occurred, centred upon an innocent information gathering mission by an official Earth Gov vessel. Unable to communicate, the Human ship could not explain their actions so near to Lyzaria, and understandably attacked out of fear. Only a handful of lives were lost before the battle ceased, but it was enough; enough to firmly implant the seed of distrust between the two species for the foreseeable future.

The misunderstanding persuaded Earth Gov to invest more funding into their communication and technology department, in order to broaden the abilities of a universal translation device. The blueprints for the device were created a while back by an eccentric scientist who wanted to create a device that would allow the human race to communicate with animals. The idea was instantly ridiculed and so Earth Gov promptly cut the funding. The translator basically read the speech pattern of another being, decrypted the fundamental wavelengths, and then produced an understandable result.

After the Universal Translator had been perfected, Earth Gov sent another ship into the Lyzarian solar system and requested an audience using the device. The Lyzarians were still understandably wary of the Humans, but when they were able to communicate, the Lyzarians reluctantly allowed for reasonable talks. The specifications for the translator device were offered to the Lyzarians as a gesture of good will, which the Lyzarians gratefully accepted. The foundations had been established and the building of peace had been at a steady pace ever since. The assassination of General Kolash, however, could be the decisive factor in the complete destruction of the very foundation of peace. In short, a war was imminent.

These thoughts quickly dispersed from his mind, as his attention was drawn to the corridor outside of his cell, as the lights slowly flickered into life and the sound of heavy foot steps pounding the hard concrete floor rang in his ears. This was the first sign of life he had seen for the better part of a week. Is this it? He thought. Is it time for the tribunal? His internal questions were apparently answered, by a sudden explosion of light emanating from the ceiling of his cell. His dark-adapted eyes squinted in agony, as he pushed himself up from the damp cell floor with a great degree of difficulty.

Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the new level of light, and the vision of the giant lizard-like creature towering over him took shape. The Lyzarian extracted a small, portable, data terminal from his large grey cowl, and punched in a number of digits upon the data terminal keypad. He studied the screen intently for a second and then glared at Ziekiel sternly. The Lyzarian mouthed something in a Lyzarian dialect, which took a second or two to properly translate into English, the time delay was still an unfortunate flaw in the universal translators armour, but a flaw that Earth Gov currently strove to eliminate.

“Walters, Ziekiel,” the computerised translation voice prompted.

“Yeah,” Ziekiel replied. “That’s me.”

The Lyzarian stood there for a couple of seconds, obviously waiting for the same computerised voice to translate Ziekiel’s words into an understandable Lyzarian dialect. When the translation came through, the warden simply nodded in acknowledgement. This is it, he told himself, time for the tribunal. And he was glad at the prospect too. The cell was driving him crazy and his shackles had begun to cut deeply into his fragile Human body. The dark red abrasions covering both his wrists and his ankles were getting more painful each day. They simply were not designed for the Human body; especially under the intense gravitational pressure that Lyzaria put him under.

Ziekiel, painfully, thrust his shackled wrists out in front of him, half-expecting the Lyzarian warden to punch in the release code on the keypad, located on the underside of the shackles. However, the warden simply glared at him with great indifference and grunted. He then placed his large, scaly, hand around the centre of shackles, and effortlessly hauled Ziekiel out of the prison cell and into the corridor. The Lyzarians were clearly much stronger than Humans. Their atmosphere was much denser than that of Earth and consequently the Lyzarians evolved with much denser muscle tissue.

The guard perfectly understood this problem and consequently, continued to drag Ziekiel along the narrow corridor towards the end of the cell block, with his feet dragging along the floor. At the end of the corridor, Ziekiel noticed that there was an oval section just as the cell blocks ended, with a perfectly circular monitoring facility built at the centre of it. Ziekiel guessed that this was the guards’ monitoring station. The guard dragged Ziekiel all the way around the monitoring station and stopped at the large, thick, metal door, which appeared to be the only entrance or exit to the cell compound area. The guard keyed in a series of digits into the keypad on the wall, and then placed the palm of his upon the rectangular palm reader panel that lay next to it. The door smoothly slid open to reveal a breathtaking view. Ziekiel gasped in amazement at the angelically white glow of the corridor ahead of him.

On the way to the prison cell, upon his arrival on the bog-ridden planet of Lyzaria, he was too concerned with the intense gravity wrenching at his body to notice any of the surrounding décor. The angelic corridor almost gave him a new lease of life; it was a greatly appreciated change from staring at the same four desolate walls that he had become so accustomed to within his prison cell.

The journey along the long, beautifully white corridor seemed to last forever, when realistically, the transition could only have lasted a minute or two. The whole section appeared to be tactically built as some kind of safety precaution in case anybody escaped their prison cell and actually managed to get past the bulky entrance door. This corridor could easily be contained. A very sound tactic indeed. As an Earth Gov Security officer, Ziekiel appreciated the corridor just that little bit more. At the end of the corridor the guard stopped again, keyed in another set of digits on an identical keypad, and again placed the palm of his hand upon another rectangular palm-reading panel.

Much like before, the thick, bulky door smoothly chugged open, revealing three different corridors, leading to three separate doors. These set of corridors, however, were not decorated with a beautiful, angelic, white glow; the colour was more of a dull, grey, metallic mixture. The guard waited until the door shut behind them both, before he continued the journey along the corridor to their right. Ziekiel was hauled along the depressing corridor and was brought to a rather painful halt as they reached another incredibly sturdy-looking door. This time, however, the guard simply punched in a set of digits; there was no palm-reading device this far away from the prison block. Ziekiel made a mental note of this triviality and stored it away at the back of his mind, perhaps for later use

The door opened and Ziekiel was again propositioned by another glorious site. The entrance led to a balcony of sorts, which seemed to be entirely composed of some kind transparent material. Whilst Ziekiel took in the site, he didn’t notice the guard taking a few steps backwards. The result of which saw the guard hurl him through the door onto a transparent balcony floor with a rather painful thud. Damned fragile frame! He silently cursed.

For quite a while, he lay motionless on the floor, trying to determine the true nature of the transparent material underneath him. His senses brought the same feeling’s to him that his mind associated with touching a metallic surface. He shook the sensation from his mind and with great effort managed to raise his head from the deceptively metallic surface. To the right of him, there was an object, apparently carved out of the same transparent material. He stared at it for a few seconds before finally realising that the object was in fact some kind of large chair, obviously built for the much larger Lyzarian frame.

Using all of his might, Ziekiel managed to crawl over to the base of the chair, whereupon he placed a very tired hand on the carved seat before momentarily collapsing with fatigue. Breathing heavily, he then managed to haul himself up onto the seat before slouching back in a great deal of agony. Whilst trying to catch his breath he took a bearing of his surroundings. Below him, he could see row upon row of pews carved out of the same transparent material, filled with angry-looking Lyzarians. The white glow of the walls made the transparent material decidedly difficult to see and it cast the illusion that the Lyzarians were sat on nothing but thin air.

The breathtaking view subtly made Ziekiel aware that this balcony was at a great height from the rest of the room. He was trapped with nowhere to go; even if he had the capability to walk. At the far right of the tribunal chamber there was another balcony, similar to his, but about five meters up. The balcony took dominance over the entire room and it became obvious to Ziekiel that this balcony belonged to the unbiased representative of the Lyzaria regime. In Human terms; the Judge. At least he hoped that this figure of authority would be unbiased. Every official hearing had to have an unbiased authority figure... didn’t they? He wondered, beginning to panic.

As if by cue, the door at the very top of the much larger balcony smoothly opened and a rather stern-looking Lyzarian stepped out onto the platform. The Lyzarian wore a cowl, much like the one the warden wore; however, this cowl was more of a bland magenta in colour. The magenta, cowl-wearing Lyzarian slid into his carved-out seat on top of the much higher balcony and silently glanced at the far side of the gigantic room. For a second, Ziekiel wondered what the Lyzarian was looking at, but his question was soon answered when the wall (directly opposite him, but on the ground level) seamlessly parted and another Lyzarian confidently strode out. This much smaller Lyzarian wore a brownish coloured cowl. Could he be the prosecution? Or the defence? He silently questioned, attempting to decide upon the most likely scenario.

Since the Lyzarians pretty much held him responsible for the death of their beloved General, he didn’t suspect that anyone would volunteer to defend him (if there was such a thing as defence in Lyzarian legal procedures) so he decided that this one was the prosecution. The Lyzarian ‘prosecutor’ walked to the centre of the massive chamber and placed a small data terminal upon a transparent carved table. He seemed to compose himself before taking a few steps forward and lowering his head solemnly. The ‘judge’ stared at the Lyzarian for a moment before tapping a small, circular, metallic panel on the side of his seat. This action released a beautifully angelic shrill, which proceeded to fill the entire chamber.

Ziekiel half wondered what this shrill signalled, but when the ‘prosecutor’ took a seat behind his appointed desk and the ‘judge’ sternly glared at him, he guessed that it signalled the beginning of the tribunal. The ‘judge’ glared at him for a second before Ziekiel noticed his lips move. Ziekiel patiently waited for the translation to boom through a nearby translation device.

“Ziekiel Walters, you have been brought before this military tribunal in order for the Lyzarian people to determine the part you played in the assassination of our beloved General Kolash. Do you understand the terms of these proceedings?” The translation from the ‘judge’ prompted.

“Yes, your honour... I do,” Ziekiel replied.

After a few seconds, the ‘judge’ nodded in acknowledgement of his answer. “Good,” he curtly replied. “From this point on, however, you will address me as Arbitrator,” the Arbitrator glanced over to the Lyzarian wearing the brown cowl. “And Mr. Lokosh here as Indictor.”

“Yes, Arbitrator,” Ziekiel replied.

The Indictor stood from his seat and confidently strode toward the Arbitrator. “May I approach the defendant, most honourable Arbitrator?”

“Yes, you may,” the Judge answered.

Despite the different titles, these two Lyzarians fulfilled the roles he‘d suspected of them. It also seemed that his suspicions about his defence (or lack of it) were accurate too. The Indictor made a sharp turn to his right and slowly stomped over to a large, blue circle, which was etched into the very floor, just below Ziekiel’s balcony.

“Throughout this tribunal I will ask you a number of questions in order to determine the facts behind the crime in question, and to help determine the appropriate judgement for the Arbitrator to take. You will respond to the questions promptly and honestly,” the Indictor paused and eyed up Ziekiel speculatively. “Do you understand everything that is required of you?”

“Yes, Indictor,” Ziekiel replied.

The Indictor nodded, acknowledging Ziekiel’s reply, and then slowly strolled back over to his desk to retrieve his small data terminal. The Indictor punched in a few keys and then looked up at Ziekiel with a deceptively warm smile spread across his face.

“First, Mr. Walters, “the Indictor began. “Could you please start at General Kolash’s arrival onboard your vessel?”

“Of course,” Ziekiel promptly replied, “The Courage arrived at sector 129 at...”

“The Courage?” the Indictor interrupted.

“That is the name of the ship, Indictor.”

“Ah yes,” the Indictor reflected. “I had forgotten that you Humans tend to give inanimate objects names as if they were children or pets. I have always considered this to be an odd custom.”

“It is essentially done to retain the morale of the ship’s crew out of nostalgic and metaphorical value,” Ziekiel said. “Plus it provides Earth Gov with accountability for their fleet; a nostalgic name is far easier to recall than a cold set of numbers...”

The Indictor simply nodded, cutting Ziekiel off mid-sentence, obviously not wanting to pursue the topic any further. “You may proceed.”

“The Courage arrived in sector 129 — the designated meeting place — about an hour before the arranged time...”

“And what was the reason for this early arrival?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Ziekiel paused in reflection. “But I assume that Captain Naylor wanted to scout the area out before your ship arrived.”

“And why do you think this was?” the Indictor asked. “To plan an ambush on General Kolash’s ship, perhaps?”

“No. The Captain probably wanted to make sure that the scheduled meeting wasn’t some kind of trap.”

“A trap?”

“Yes, Indictor. Making sure that we were not flying right into a Lyzarian ambush.”

To be continued...