"Esteemed members! We have convened this hearing precisely because of a most regrettable armed conflict that erupted outside the perimeter. A detachment from the Ninth Fleet engaged a transport unit belonging to the Teran Mercenary Corps. In the ensuing firefight, several fine soldiers lost their precious lives. Yet, both sides were ostensibly allied forces. Why, then, did they turn their weapons upon each other? This is profoundly perplexing. To ascertain the full sequence of events, the commanders of both units have been summoned here. Now, I ask both principals to state your identities."

Marshal Alexander delivered his opening remarks and then proceeded, as customary, to question the two individuals.

"Teran Mercenary Corps. Blade," the reply came, flat and utterly unremarkable.

On the way here, he had already mapped out his strategy for handling the interrogation. This hearing was, in essence, a formality. The five figures seated behind the long table—Marshal Alexander and Admiral Cherry in particular—likely knew the sequence of events as well as anyone, perhaps even better. Moreover, Admiral Cherry was strongly suspected of being an accomplice to Pittlier and maintained deep ties with the Directorate.

Though detained by the Military Police, Blade had not communicated with anyone externally. However, his mental link with his core self and his various avatars remained unbroken. He was fully appraised of everything the Teran Mercenary Corps had done in counteracting the Directorate. Therefore, he was supremely confident, needing only to stall until the news of Admiral Levent's demise arrived.

Once the Directorate learned of Levent's death, two likely responses presented themselves: either an all-out war against the Teran Corporation and Mercenary Corps, or a strategic retreat to de-escalate the situation.

If such an assassination tactic were employed against a sovereign nation, the outcome would inevitably be unending conflict, as the dignity of a state apparatus could not permit capitulation to terrorism. However, the Directorate, while wielding immense influence over state mechanisms, was not a state apparatus itself—it was composed of merchants. Merchants excel at resolving issues through negotiation rather than mutually assured destruction. This tendency is amplified when they realize their own lives are forfeit to an enemy whose true nature they barely comprehend.

Consequently, the Directorate was unlikely to adopt an extreme retaliatory posture.

Pittlier seemed not to hear Marshal Alexander's question, remaining silent with his head bowed. The focus of his pupils shifted erratically, giving him the appearance of a man utterly lost.

"The other party involved, please state your identity."

Marshal Alexander waited a moment, seeing no reaction from Pittlier, and repeated the query.

Pittlier flinched violently, as if suddenly snapped back to reality. He opened his mouth, "Ninth Fleet. Major General Pittlier." He then pointed a trembling finger at Blade, "This man! This man and his unit tried to kill me! They attacked me, they attacked the Earth Forces! He is in league with the Apes! He murdered many of my staff officers! Marshal, Generals, you must severely punish him, execute him! And the Teran Mercenary Corps behind him, they must also—"

Having regained his composure, Pittlier launched into an accusation against Blade like an unleashed cannon, his eyes bulging as if about to leap from their sockets, his bloodshot gaze painting the picture of a lunatic.

Thump! Thump!

Marshal Alexander struck his gavel twice, heavily. "Order! Major General Pittlier, this is a hearing. You speak only when asked a question. Any further outburst like that, and I will hold you in contempt of the Military Tribunal!"

Pittlier quieted down, panting heavily, and turned away, unwilling to meet Blade's gaze.

Yet, Blade remained perfectly composed, showing no sign of anger at Pittlier's ravings. Pittlier, the heir to a fading dynasty blissfully unaware of his own obsolescence, was a pathetic figure; Blade deemed him beneath the effort of taking offense.

Blade's serene demeanor baffled the Marshal and the four Admirals, each harboring their own specific thoughts.

Marshal Alexander, always observing from the sidelines, mused, "Could the Teran Mercenary Corps have been prepared? But is that possible in such a short timeframe?"

Admiral Cherry, however, displayed a flicker of disdain. The Directorate's power was deeply rooted in his mind—an organization that had subtly steered pivotal events throughout the river of history, holding profound sway over human development. The Teran Mercenary Corps, formed barely a year ago, however many brilliant skirmishes they had won, was in no position to be considered equal to the Directorate. Only a madman or a fool would entertain such a notion.

Randolph’s expression was complex; he clearly struggled to reconcile the Teran Mercenary Corps' attack on the Earth Forces and eagerly awaited Blade's explanation.

The other two Admirals also held their own opinions, but Blade spared them little attention.

Marshal Alexander cleared his throat, consulted a document, and stated, "Major General Pittlier, the battlefield records indicate that your forces fired first. Please explain the situation first: why did you open fire?"

The battlefield records were irrefutable. The engagement between Blade and Pittlier had occurred within the visual range of the Joint Fleet, meaning the entire engagement had been recorded.

"It was him! He was attacking us, he was planning to betray the Earth Forces, the entire Teran Mercenary Corps intended to betray the Earth Forces!" Pittlier—his composure not yet restored—shouted across the room as Marshal Alexander gestured for him to speak.

"Enough!" Marshal Alexander said with clear displeasure.

But Pittlier continued relentlessly, indicting the Teran Mercenary Corps for conspiracy, seemingly incapable of stopping.

"Make him quiet!" Marshal Alexander instructed the Military Police standing nearby. They instantly moved forward and clamped their hands over Pittlier's mouth. In the military, a brutal institution, the actions of the MPs were always direct and rough.

Pittlier managed a muffled sound or two, falling silent.

"Major General Pittlier's mental state appears compromised. Perhaps we should have him retire to the side to rest, allowing a military psychologist to examine him. We can question him later," suggested Admiral Cherry.

"Is that so?" Marshal Alexander glanced at him, considered for a moment, and nodded. "Very well. Pittlier, go rest on the sofa behind, and send for the psychologist."

Pittlier rose woodenly and walked to the rear, sitting beside a Major Staff Officer, staring vacantly ahead, not responding even when the officer called his name.

Marshal Alexander then turned to Blade. "Colonel Blade, please recount the events."

"This is what happened," Blade recounted the events truthfully, adding nothing and omitting nothing. Since the incident was not initiated by him, there was nothing to conceal.

"Over a hundred fighters scattering five Pacific-class battlecruisers? Are your Teran Mercenary Corps fighters piloted by Psionics, Colonel?" Admiral Cherry immediately countered, refusing to believe Blade's account halfway through.

"That is the fact. These details should be recorded in the battlefield logs, General. If you doubt it, you are free to verify the records. Furthermore, before the battle commenced, I reported Pittlier's threats against us to the Arbitration Committee. Did you not dismiss my claims then, General? Yet Pittlier's unit appeared on the return route of our Thor transport ship and initiated an attack. What explanation do you offer now?" Blade returned the volley of questions directly to Admiral Cherry.

"Cherry, is this true?" Marshal Alexander turned to ask.

"I never received any report from Colonel Blade," Admiral Cherry immediately and sharply denied. He turned to Blade, demanding sternly, "Colonel Blade, did you personally see me? Did you hear those words from my own mouth?"

"No, I did not," Blade admitted, observing Admiral Cherry’s righteous indignation as if it were genuine. He understood Cherry intended to shift all responsibility onto his subordinates.

"If you did not, then do not speak falsehoods. I will investigate this matter and give you an explanation. But currently, this hearing is focused on the armed engagement between your unit and Major General Pittlier's. Continuing to divert to other matters will be highly detrimental to you."

Admiral Cherry shot Blade a threatening look, a clear warning not to drag him further into this.

"This is not some extraneous matter; it is directly related to the incident," Blade pressed on, refusing to let it go.

"Silence! Accusing an Admiral without evidence—a mere Colonel of mercenaries—you overstep your bounds!" Admiral Cherry roared.

"Very well, let us set aside this point for now and return to the details of the firefight," Marshal Alexander interjected, acting as a mediator, as Admiral Cherry’s dignity needed to be preserved.

Subsequently, the other Admirals posed various detailed questions, and time passed during this rigorous examination.

Suddenly, a staff officer approached the entrance and made a gesture toward Marshal Alexander.

Marshal Alexander frowned. This officer was a confidant, and his urgent approach clearly signaled a significant development.

"Please excuse me for a moment," Marshal Alexander requested. Receiving affirmative nods from everyone, he rose and exited the small hall.

Shortly after his departure, the four Admirals were also called away one by one, as if faced with sudden emergencies, leaving the room momentarily empty save for Blade.

A slight smile touched Blade's lips.

About five minutes later, they all returned to their seats, their expressions visibly altered from five minutes prior.

Admiral Cherry, in particular, showed not only extreme shock but also stark terror. His gaze upon Blade trembled, and once seated, he became restless, shifting his posture every few seconds.

Marshal Alexander, though slightly better composed, could not conceal the look of profound shock directed at Blade.

A strange atmosphere began to permeate the hearing room. Even Pittlier, undergoing examination by the psychologist in the background, sensed that something was amiss and looked up, observing the expressions of the five high-ranking officers.

For a moment, none of the five knew what to say. Finally, Randolph was the first to clear his throat. "We have just received some most regrettable news. While it has no direct bearing on this hearing, it does concern Major General Pittlier. The news is this: Major General Pittlier's father, Admiral Levent, was assassinated moments ago at his estate near the foothills of the Alps."