Zalgot still scared out of his wit, slumps back in his seat. He then takes a deep breath before explaining the origin of this serum. He started to recount the events of Zekton's request. His voice ranged from low to high as the fearful Wokan spoke, keeping his head down constantly. Like our species, they do not look each other in the eye when fearful or ashamed. Perhaps this is an instinctual occurrence, with species perhaps some form of cultural norm, something to consider when interacting with Wokan. His words started to ramble a bit, but as time went on a clearer picture came into view and quite the recount it was, very interesting.

The short version is that the "Vixorm serum." was of Demthesian design and approved by the Shah for use in planetary pacification. The official term for it is somewhat accurate but I prefer to see it as it is Chemical coercion of a populace to instil an incentive to obey. The Demthesian's developed a rather potent and addictive drug that has several effects on one's biology. The serum is tailored to each species' biology, but the effects are relatively the same all around. The drug produces an almost euphoric sensation in the subject with little to no side effects, tranquilising the subject until they become quite passive. Repetitive use of the drug causes the subject to develop a chemical and psychological dependency. The alleviation of such symptoms is done by further administering of the drug or an apparent antidote. The antidote is of course heavily regulated and is used only in special cases of certain Wokan's receiving better living conditions and special rights for service.

Sufficed to say the Demthesian's employ and regulate the use of an addictive drug to placate the populace of certain species. In a sense causing said species to develop a dependency on them. You fight for us and your people will continue to receive the serum to alleviate the gruesome side effects of abstaining from the drug.

Quite a devious method to employ, not only does it placate the civilian populace and breed dependence. It also provides motivation for the Wokan's to remain loyal. I can see why Galitor reacted the way he did, the concept of using such a drug would be a sore subject for most of the Wokan's. Apparently during development Zalgot's scientific officers refused to take part in the manufacture of such a horrid drug and complained to Zekton, he did not take that well.

Zalgot then finished his ramblings and dejectedly slumped back upon his seat. I ponder this and ask a single question, something I must know. "How many were you able to make and what happened to that stock of Vixorm?" Determining this was of utmost importance, as it would affect my current plans, and the situations this Vixorm serum could bring about are concerning.

The Wokan manages to gather himself after a short time and manages to muster up the courage to tell me what I want to know. "Over seven thousand vials were produced before we stopped manufacturing them. Commander Zekton sent the entire inventory with his soldiers down to the planet, twenty major cycles ago." Now, this is troubling news, the situation with Zekton's forces currently occupying Garudan lands was troubling enough. Now with my lack of access to logistical information and these serums in the hands of the enemy. I need to precisely determine the locations of occupied territory, apart from the southern region that hosted Itoa and Hera's clan. The rest of the Garudan lands are a mystery. Itoa had mentioned there is a union of clans that cover most of the southern region they are likely occupied as well.

Well, considering the time that is passed since the mutiny and the approximate size of their military forces. They would be able to at least suppress and control a third of the occupied region. Just an estimate but reasonable when taking into consideration of the technology gap between the two sides. With these various aspects in mind, the course of action is clear. I must seize complete control of this vessel and all its occupants. I quickly realign my thoughts and gaze intently towards Zalgot.

His frightened and shaky visage trembles under my gaze, I decided to soften my facial features and adopt a more sympathetic posture, before speaking. "Zalgot, you needn't hold your head down in shame. You were given impossible conditions and did the best you could and now... Now you have a chance to change things." My words seemed to cause his gaze to rise slightly. He leans forward as if to listen while his beady eyes widen.

I lean forward becoming level with his height as we meet eye to eye. His gaze shakes slightly but resolve can be seen. I have since become quite adept at noticing their subtle expressions. "What can I do, they would have already administered the drugs to those poor Garudan's. They will suffer the same fate as many of our kind." His words are filled with sorrow and regret, something I have rarely seen with many Wokan, they tend to be quite proud and rambunctious.

Galitor grumbles angrily and stands up aggressively, directing his scornful gaze at both of us. "Stop this, Commander Zekton would never do something so vile. You are obviously lying to save your own hide, Zalgot!" Spitting some saliva to the point of frothing at the mouth. Galitor aggressively asserts his disbelief in such matters. Either he is inept, or the concept is too far out of his expectations.

Regardless, Pok springs into action and aggressively meets his gaze with the barrel of his rifle. His stern posture and threatening actions suppress the disgruntled engineer. They glare at each other for a time and for a moment I suspected him of acting on his aggressive stance. But alas the barrel of the rifle keeps him in check. I ignore him and continue speaking to the receptive Zalgot. "You can do something, don't listen to Zekton or Galitor. You are not powerless you have the support of your fellow scientists, and with yours and their aptitude together, find a solution." His eyes sparkle with renewed hope and a semblance of vigour. Quite a sight to witness for me, it is a rarity amongst the footage of my world's history.

He leans forward more intently and places his lower hands on the table before speaking. "I... We can do it; you will let us work towards our umak?" Well, that is a word I know of, but I have heard it is a rarity in the Wokan language. It means penance, something that is rarely thrown around in Wokan culture, they tend to not feel remorse for their actions. This is indeed intriguing and further gives evidence that the culture of a race does not define the entire race.

The Imperator Romas Lestonan claimed the people of Martop are all barbaric savages that degrade the very lifeblood of Korvan. Spreading their filthy dogmatic law and are all the same. It was rather unfortunate many of my people at that time listened to that madman. He advocated for purging the Martopian people for the sake of Korvan's future.

The thought flickers through my mind for a moment before I come back to reality. Galitor is still seething angrily at the light of hope, lingering on Zalgot's face. I turn to Zalgot and give him the very hope he craves for. "Of course, Zalgot, I have no desire to keep your division locked up when they could be performing their duties. I will release you all under the condition you assist me in developing a treatment for those affected by Zekton's scheme?" I had already planned to release them as an entire science division of Wokan's will be a valuable resource.

It is now clear that at least Zalgot is under control. Monitoring will be necessary from now on. With that in hand, Zalgot slumped down in his chair and began mumbling various incoherent words. I turn my gaze towards Galitor still seething. It is impressive how he can retain such aggression as Pok is towering over him with a deadly weapon. I see how the Demthesian's had such trouble keeping them in line, their methods were foolish, to say the least. You cannot apply ruthless force on a ruthlessly forceful race.

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Despite that, there are some things I have learned about the oppressed. Regardless of what they were before they came under the forceful rule of another, a change is inevitable. That change is sympathy, you would think considering their history of being a war-like race, that has dominated several other races that sympathy would be beyond them. Nevertheless, my curiosity is the one thing I have that was not programmed in by the Empire and I intend to indulge, in this wide galaxy.

I smile a small and simple smile directed towards Galitor. He initially flutters his third eye from the left, perhaps some sort of nervousness or contempt. It matters not; I turn my gaze to my suit's inside pocket and draw out a small data pad. I tap a few buttons located just below the rectangular screen and the device lights up with familiar imagery.

My expression turns ice cold as I release the false smile and unveil my true visage to Galitor. As expected, his nerves were shocked, prompting me to slide the datapad across the table. He continues to glare at me with increasing weight for a time, almost in the challenge but like with all life curiosity prevails. He turns his gaze down towards the datapad. that is now cycling through various images. I loaded them into the device from my implant database.

Images that I had taken from my memory, should be illuminating for this aggressive Wokan engineer. As expected, his nerves were shaken once more. His beady eyes flutter furiously, I am impressed by how so much expressiveness can be conveyed by the Wokan people with just their eyes. Truly the study of other species might become a hobby of mine. He lingers there for a time, caught in a spiral of emotion, a slight tremor in his two right hands. One of them hesitated to grasp the datapad.

Confusion, nervousness, fear, and rage could be any one of these feelings running through that Wokan brain of his. But the one I most suspect, is sheer and utter disbelief. "These are images of the treatment the Garudan captives endured aboard the Hellmak, prior to their liberation at my hands," I speak in the coldest tone possible, daring not to express any emotion as a neutral position is of course needed during these proceedings. Of course, he still shows scepticism and furiously scrutinizes the data pad images. Tapping the small button just below the image to quickly move from one to the next.

The images of course were rather gruesome scenes that would affect most with a shred of sympathy. The visage of caged Garudan's with barely any room to move within their tight-knit bars. Depictions of the various bruises and lacerations upon their flesh that had since yet to fully heal despite the Garudan's impressive endurance and regenerative healing factor. I do not know how Wokan would feel about the depiction of children within cages separated from their parents. But I suspect it may be a troubling sight considering the importance of Wokan's place in their kin.

His troubled expression morphs quickly and an accusatory glance is cast my way, as expected his scepticism is palpable and requires some sating. "I see that you are confused but let me put you at ease. These images are meant to convey the truth of Zekton's actions towards an innocent species. Actions that mirror the very Empire that stepped upon your people and trampled their dignity and freedom. I know you don't believe such actions are justified, considering everything your people have suffered, under your oppressors." A dose of the truth if administered quickly can be an effective treatment for the blind. To grant those who cannot see, the sight, to grant those who cannot speak, the voice. To grant those who cannot act, the chance.

Those words were spoken by an unnamed revolutionary during the great purge of the Empire right before he was hanged. Despite having no name and being almost lost to history, his words remained. Such a great teacher a nameless person can be if there are people alive to carry his words through the harshness of time. I left the room after ordering some of the trustworthy Garudan's to take Galitor back to his cell and Zalgot to be freed along with his fellow scientists.

They were to be placed in their lab to continue their work under observation. After leaving the room, the silent and cold corridor greets me and Pok. We begin our journey towards the next interrogation room. Before reaching the door of the room, I stop for a moment, before turning my gaze towards him. He seems to be aloof with his flittering gaze observing every facet of the ship. I furrow my eyes in confusion before asking him the obvious question. "What are you doing Pok?" I was genuinely curious, and I will admit it slightly concerned with his behaviour.

He continued for a time before acknowledging my glare firmly placed on his visage. I had expected him to shrink back yet he remained aloof. Garudan's are a peculiar lot, quite adaptable to change and not so easily overwhelmed by the strangeness of their new situation. None more peculiar is Pok, he says the most intriguing things. "Do you think these Demthesiorn's were the ones that brought us to our lands? My ancestors said we were brought across the blackened sea, by the sky travellers." His eyes are fixed on the floor as he rests the rifle on his shoulder, his face contemplative. Truly a wild mind this one has; I wonder how accurate the claims of his ancestors are. But I doubt the Demthesian's brought the Garudan's to this planet, from what I learned it is not their style to waste good slaves.

I am not sure how to deal with this fellow, his loyalty and willingness to follow my orders are admirable and useful. Yet his odd statements that may or may not have some foundation in truth are something I must investigate, but first. "They are called Demthesian, Pok and I am not sure, but I doubt it, if these sky travellers existed, they would likely be another alien race traversing the stars," I answer honestly as lies would be counterintuitive to trust. My plans are to establish a repour with the Garudan’s, through such people as Itoa, Hera and Elkra. He starts to turn his head from side to side, perhaps it is some sort of method to assist in thinking. He then starts bobbing his head up and down before turning to me, smiling widely.

With him now apparently lost in his own mind, I decide to continue my questioning. "So, Pok I am curious... Why are you at my side to defend me from our enemies." I crossed my arms around my back and pushed out my chest in a manner befitting of many admirals of my former Empire.

Pok ponders with his trademarked head swaying from side to side, after a short amount of time he answers. "I want to meet the sky travellers... I want to traverse the blackened sea as my ancestors did and what better way than with another sky traveller." He bobs his head rather vigorously, shortly after his declaration and his words were somewhat expected yet they needed to be heard, regardless.

I am not sure how to clearly respond to that, I am not a sky traveller. I may as well be no different from the Garudan's, landlocked to a world with limited knowledge of the blackened sea, as he calls it. In a sense, I was the worse starting point Pok would begin from, but of course, it is not like he has much in the way of options. So, I will accept my role as his guide, to the endless expansive blackened sea. "I am honoured you have chosen to travel with me Pok, but you must know it will not be an easy adventure, across this sea of yours." It was an honest response that I felt must be said, I do not doubt the veracity of Pok's convictions. He is indeed mad enough to traverse such a strange galaxy, even I am wary of.

He turned to me with an unfamiliar expression, his awestruck, and almost jovial face was replaced with sheer determination. His gaze hardened upon my visage. I turn to acknowledge that resolve out of respect and curiosity. His actions immediately afterwards are both impressive and a tad humorous with his sloppy imperial salute. I appreciated the gesture; his form appears ramrod straight as if you could try and fail to topple him over, He crosses his arms while still holding his weapon. It was a glorious sight that kind of made me a little bit proud of him. That was an odd feeling, will explore that later, but for now, the task is ahead.

I return his salute, displaying the dignity of the Samsiran Empire, in all its former glory. Yet somehow a bitter sensation starts to well up in my chest, at the notion. We both remain stationary before relaxing and then proceeding through the door and entering the interrogation room. What greets us is a familiar female Wokan. The very one that had once interrogated me in this very room. I oddly found it fitting to have her placed here. I wonder if is that petty of me, so many new feelings so little time to indulge them.