Pale Blue Dot - volume 5 - The Pale Blue Dot 5.6
Imported from SF2 with no description.
"…Beginner's level my ass," I muttered to myself as I dragged my aching body into the mess hall, massaging my swollen eye while limping slightly. As I picked up a tray, I noticed the unusually quiet atmosphere and the sympathetic looks everyone was giving me—some even let me cut in line.
Has it really only been six months? Did they miss me that much? I didn’t realize I was this popular.
After stating my request to the food synthesizer, I was presented with a green, gelatinous cube. I sighed, taking it as a sign that even it was happy to see me.
I found Ian and the others at their usual table, where the Golden Retriever made room for me.
“If you want, you can have mine,” Abel offered, pushing his tray towards me after eyeing my gelatin cube.
I shook my head, grateful for his kindness, but the sudden movement caused a wave of pain to course through my body, and I couldn’t help but hiss in discomfort.
“Enough, this is too much!” José slammed the table with such force that the already quiet mess hall fell into complete silence. "This is beyond any reasonable disciplinary action. If that damn white wolf has a problem, he should come at me directly! I don’t care if he’s one of the top ten in the Empire; I’ll still knock his teeth out…” The Coyote’s rant was abruptly interrupted when Ian grabbed his snout, nervously glancing towards the trainee officer section, where everyone was studiously pretending not to have heard a thing, continuing to eat their meals.
“This is mutiny, it’s not just a flogging you’ll get!” Ian only released José after he finally calmed down, settling back into his seat. “Besides, everyone knows the Admiral is the Empire's Premier Swordsman. If you try to challenge him, you’re going to die in the most pathetic way possible.”
Oh, our multi-talented Admiral—Arthur had explained to me before that a psychic’s heightened senses give them a significant advantage in hand-to-hand combat, but I wasn’t trained well enough to utilize my body’s potential. I couldn’t quite grasp where this conversation was headed, so I just scooped up a chunk of the gelatin and put it in my mouth, looking at José with a puzzled expression.
“The maintenance crew told us they’ve seen you pass out in the Admiral’s room multiple times, with blood all over the floor!” The Coyote clenched his fists on the table, his body trembling slightly.
“We didn’t believe it at first. The Admiral has a reputation, and nothing like this has ever happened before. But after you went more than six months without leave, we started noticing some odd signs,” Abel said in a detached voice, twirling his fork into his noodles. “Bruises, broken bones, countless contusions… You’ve even maxed out the regeneration medical pod’s usage limits.” The Fox murmured, the fork scraping against the plate with a grating sound. “Even the Marquis of New York, known for his sadistic tendencies, wasn’t this excessive.” He was talking about the Grand Duchy of Golden’s heir, right? I’d heard some rumors before.
“To be practical, even if by some miracle, you file a complaint and the Imperial Court rules in your favor, you can kiss your career in the Empire goodbye.” Ian whispered, his head lowered. “I know some people who might be able to get you transferred to another ship or even another fleet…”
I was about to interrupt Ian to tell him I had no idea what they were talking about, but suddenly, the aftertaste of the green gelatin hit me—sharp and spicy, making my tongue and mouth go numb and swell, tears streaming down my face.
Caught off guard by this sudden development, Ian looked down, ashamed, while Abel turned towards me, pulling me into a tight hug, causing me to swallow the gelatin in my mouth. The burning sensation immediately spread from my stomach.
“I’m going to have a word with that white mutt…” José trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed. “No offense,” he apologized to me. “I’m going to tell that bastard exactly what I think!” He stood up, dusting off his clothes as the others turned their gazes away.
“What exactly are you planning to say, Private First Class José?” It was during a rare break, so I was so relaxed that I had dropped my consciousness field and hadn’t noticed Captain Arthur enter the mess hall.
“Permission to speak freely, sir!” José violated mess hall etiquette by saluting the Captain—a gesture with a hint of defiance. The atmosphere became even more tense, but no one seemed inclined to leave.
“Permission granted,” Arthur replied, raising one eyebrow.
“The rumors about the Admiral being a cuckold and the Marquis Berlin being a bastard were all spread by me. Please don’t take it out on Private Luther!” José’s body trembled slightly; I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or anger. “I can’t imagine what the Admiral did to make Luther cry like this! But please understand, even us lower-class commoners have pride!”
Wait, what? I wiped away the tears that showed no sign of stopping, wanting to prevent this farce from turning into a tragedy, but my tongue hurt too much to speak.
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about,” Captain Arthur tilted his head slightly. “Private Luther, sign for your new terminal.” He handed me a personal terminal, and I placed my finger on the screen to register it. I remembered that last week, during training, my old one had been crushed by Richter. But why would something like this require the Captain’s personal attention?
Abel suddenly widened his eyes and gasped, letting me know that this wasn’t just any ordinary terminal.
“If you have any concerns, you can raise them at the quarterly meeting,” Captain Arthur said to José. “And I believe Private Luther is crying because of the wasabi-flavored gelatin.” The German shepherd nodded to the others in acknowledgment before turning and leaving the mess hall.
After the mess hall door closed, José sat down, looking somewhat deflated, while the others started whispering among themselves, likely discussing the Captain’s unexpected visit.
“What’s wasabi?” The Coyote asked, scooping up a piece of my gelatin and popping it into his mouth.
I wanted to stop him, but I still couldn’t speak, only managing to make various inarticulate sounds.
“Oh, Rationalism above, what is this stuff?” José jumped up, tears streaming from his eyes as he bolted for the restroom.
“Well, that was awkward,” Ian scratched his head. “So, what’s special about that terminal? Why did the Captain personally deliver it to Luther?”
The Fox pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before finally deciding to answer. “That’s an Alpha-class terminal.” Abel turned his gaze back to his plate, and said nothing more. The surrounding area fell into silence again, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me once more, but this time, the air was thick with shock.
“That’s a terminal given to someone of at least the Captain’s rank!” Ian whispered, though given the silence, I’m sure everyone heard him clearly. “Luther, what exactly is going on between you and the Admiral? This isn’t some kind of… deal to keep you quiet, is it?”
“Ian!” Abel scolded, causing the Golden Retriever to turn his head, looking even more ashamed than before.
I had wanted to get some water, but I wasn’t sure what kind of trick the machine might play on me, so I waited a while until my tongue hurt less, and José had returned to his seat before I started to speak.
“As bad as it looks,” and it really did look bad, but emphasizing that didn’t seem to help the situation, “I’m not being abused. The Admiral isn’t the type to do that.” My response visibly relieved Ian and Abel, but José still looked at me with a skeptical expression.
“To put it simply, the Admiral is training me…” I began to explain what had been happening over the past few months, recounting the cover story we had agreed upon.