I search everywhere with no avail. Places where I would expect him to be—like planning rooms—come up short with the man. Whoever might be unlikely to be in my vicinity I nearly grab by the collar, regardless of their rank, and beg to know where the XO or CO is.

Yes, this could land me in trouble, and I’ve had my fair share of officers giving me piercing eyes and annoyed grunts. “No, ensign, I do not know where Commander Buttermilch is now.” Everyone I came across would wound up getting agitated by my careless actions, and it wouldn’t surprise me if someone got fed up and ordered military police to toss me in a cell and toss the key somewhere. Technically, I should be in a brig by now—but it’s because of Buttermilch letting it slide that I’m running around amok.

The adrenaline rush can only get me so far. I’ve torn this side of the Yilan inside out looking for him, like a young child frantically searching for something important at the last second before they leave the house, and then they end up missing the bus and cry themselves to sleep because of their own mistake. Yeah, I’ve had that happen to me before, it’s not fun being made fun of by Friederika the day after. There were times where she said she got too lonely without me being at school with her. Friederika is the kind of gal that will literally just shrivel up and die if I’m not around to entertain her—perhaps that’s why she joined the force with me so we wouldn’t be separated.

The entrance to restrooms—nope—the Buttermilch isn’t there. Even coming up panting to the bridge-room, I frantically look around for him with no avail. I did decide not to annoy the engineers, though, who were toiling away repairing the spots where the shrapnel ripped through the vulnerable windows and walls…

The scent of decaying bodies still lingers, and memories of dying cries fill my head… and I shake my head as hard as I could to wash away the thoughts. Just then a large hand weighs on my shoulder.

“Wuhh….!” I cry out and spin around to see who it was—it’s none other than the lieutenant; Paul’s older brother Prince. His meek smile tells me he is relieved I managed to wake up from my sleeping beauty nap. Well, I say nap, but…

“Good morning princess. I keep getting complaints from some of my colleagues that you’re being too insubordinate…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry Pluto, do you know where the commander or the XO is?” I ask cutting him off… not exactly something you want to do against a superior officer,but I don’t care. I’ll suffer the consequences later— if there ever is one! One of Prince’s eyes twitches violently, and he tightens his grip. “Why, yes, ensign Happ-Schwarzen berger , I do happen to know where they both went. They were all here a while ago, getting ready to assemble before departing for the shuttle bay.” Prince heaves a sigh as he produces a shiny silver wristwatch from his back pocket, which I delightfully snatch away from him and back on my right wrist.

“You’re welcome—anyway if you hope to catch him you better hurry. Though I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what you would want from him that would warrant giving all our staff officers suplexes across the rooms and making everyone curse your family name. Do you know have any idea how much trouble you’ll be causing your father back hom—”

“Okay, bye!” With newfound adrenaline, I give a halfhearted wave to Prince as I tactfully withdrawal from the bridge room amid his disapproving expression. When I think about it, though, Prince might be expressing the truth… maybe I am overreacting about this? I have faith Buttermilch will not be undeterred by idiots wanting to change course for the worst—did they learn nothing from the war game campaign Friederika and I did? I mean… I did only win a few out of the bunch that we did, but still…

My sprint slows into a jog—then a fast walk and then baby steps. Looking out the window I take in the sight of several shuttle crafts already leaving the entrances of the shuttle hub silos. I can feel my heart sink in discouragement, and the floodgates of negative thoughts pour into my mind—which causes my head to also ring with pain from the bump injury.

What would I even do if I caught up to Commander Buttermilch? What would I even say? Don’t be discouraged by the naysayers and remember what I begged you to do, for the sake of thousands of men and women? At the end of the day… I’m hardly above the ranks of cadet, fresh out of academy with no practical experience, only theoretical stuff from armchair admirals of years past. There are way better officers in our chain of command… and if they gave Buttermilch a piece of their advice it wouldn’t be too logical to think he would agree with them. Maybe it was foolish to think that some literal-who officer like me is capable of—

“Ensign Happ-Schwarzenberger?” The questioning tone of a middle-aged man from behind nearly gives me a heart attack. Reeling around… it was none other than Commander Buttermilch.

“C-C—Commander Buttermilch? You aren’t on the s-shutt-shuttle yet?” My brain is so scrambled that it’s impossible to get coherent sentences out. He’s by himself, and looking past him can guess that his immediate staff group probably went on ahead without him along with Mazzareli. “I was retired to my office to recollect my thoughts for the time being… before long I heard a lot of ruckus about a blonde cadet officer tossing men around and surmised you had woken up by now. So I left to investigate, and your friend Sub-Lieutenant Trachenberg told me you were rampaging looking for me.”

Uh, oh, shit. I’m in trouble, aren’t I? I mean, I don’t think I was doing that much collateral damage searching for Buttermilch… it’s kinda funny that we went in circles looking for each other, though.

He doesn’t show a hint of hostility; in fact, he seems relieved. “It feels like a weight was lifted from my shoulders knowing you are fine and well.”

Huh? What’s this?

“If anything had happened to you your father would never let me live another day—figuratively, of course.”

Huh???? “You… are friends with my father?” I ask the old commander. Honestly, once my father came back from active duty he never talked too much about his experiences in the Metropolitan Naval Force and became rather reluctant to let me enlist in it too. It was only thanks to the stubbornness of my mother that he allowed me to enlist in the Metropolitan Navy.

He waved his hand and chuckled light-heartily. “No, no… nothing like that. Well… I suppose he did look out for me. Sure, we butted heads over decision making, but compared to you and… your Trachenberg friend, we weren’t that particularly close. However…”

“However…?” I echo the question to him.

“However… when he discovered that your assignment was under me he paid me a friendly visit sometime before the Yilan launched from its land harbor in Australia. We certainly did reminiscence about the good times… but he soon revealed his real intent for the visit.”

Ah, I know where this is going now. But I can’t risk cutting him off like I usually do.

“—’I may not be able to join now, but so god help you if anything happens to my daughter. You will see to me that she comes home safely.’” Buttermilch’s speech pattern is monotone and with a mimicking pronunciation that certainly does remind me of my father’s amusing accent—I mean, I kind of have it too, but… “That’s kind of an eerily thought, don’t you think? I mean, I know my father was fiercely protective of me around guys my age, but…” I muse nonchalantly all the while rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment.

First Prince and now Buttermilch. Does everyone think I am a liability to this operation or something? I don’t think my father is THAT big of a deal in the military…

“Well… I’ve gotten a bit off track, and I’m sure Commodore Chal is wondering why I am not in his presence yet…”

“Commander Buttermilch, if I may have permission to speak,” I said I wouldn’t cut off Buttermilch of all people, but I did it anyway. I don’t care if he personally chucks me into space at this point. But I’m still a little tense about it, though. Just a bit. A tiny bit.

Buttermilch gives me a slightly disapproving look at the fact that I rudely cut him off and gestures for me to speak.

“Frieder—Sub-Lieutenant Trachenberg told me some of your adjutants were giving you an earful of the duration it might take to seize Side Baltit. And that got me a little antsy about the talk we had before the operation started…” I clench my fists as tightly as I could “—I was honestly worried sick that you were going to betray my trust and… give in to their suggestions instead, and encourage Commander Chal to split off the besieging fleet and head for the Lübeck star zone instead… therefore exposing us to a counterattack by… the Madame Scarface, or something of that nature… er…” my words trails off just as fast as my confidence does.

—Buttermilch just roars with laughter.

“H-huh…?” I stammer in confusion.

“Is that what this wanton rampage is all about, Ensign Happ? My… you truly are Vincent’s daughter!” He pats me on the shoulder with such enthusiasm that it feels like my shoulder blade will shatter any moment. I’m a fragile girl, you know! Bloody hell this guy…

“I believe our miss sub-lieutenant friend must have heard wrong, Happ—the adjutants complaining to me were whining about not seeing any action for themselves and were quite envious of the marines subjugating Side Malabo… well, she is partially right in that they complained that our reaction time to chasing after the pirate fleet was a lost potential, though. There was a decent amount of damage—as I’m sure you saw the bridge by now. It was a mess after the Malabo fire ship detonated…”

So it was all mostly a misunderstanding, huh… I gotta tell Friederika to get the ear wax out next time. Or beat it out of her for making me cause so much trouble for Buttermilch and Prince. But still, it’s a relief.

…Oh, wait, that actually reminds me. I never did ask about Paul at all, did I?

“The Hualian— er…pardon me for interrupting, did you get any damage reports from the other ship commanders? My friend is aboard the Hualian… did she get hit by it too?” I ask while trying to suppress my trembling. I mean, it’s just Paul. It’s not like I carethat much about him or anything. He won’t go down so easily… and neither would theHualian— right??

“The Hualian, huh? Hm…” he strokes his chin. “Rest assured, I am positive I recall there being no significant damage reported by the Hualian. Now then, Ensign Happ, I must make my way to the shuttle.”

We give each other perfectly synchronized salutes. He brushes past me afterward—but I tug on his wrist collar at the last second.

He looks at me in surprise. “Ensign…?”

“Commander Buttermilch… please… do whatever it takes to make sure we can all go home safely…” I grip tighter on his sleeve “—don’t let this go down in history as…Unlucky Alphonse.” The words come out as pleaful as I try to make them be.

Buttermilch only gives me a sly smile. “I’ll do whatever I can to ensure it is not a catastrophe. Just as an extra measure I planned on showing your war-games against Friederika for Chal and his staff to see and they will think twice about any rash decision to split the fleet… I want you—me—everyone out of this alive just as much as you do, Happ. We’ll all get through this together.”

He reaches out with his other arm and gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder. And with that, I let go of Buttermilch’s sleeve and watch him walk briskly down the hallway towards the shuttle bay. Not long after, I watch as his shuttle cruises out of the Yilanand toward Chal’s flagship some distance away.

My knees buckle beneath me, leaving me to collaspe against the glass window...

Was it best to leave it in Buttermilch’s hands? Or did I just commit the worst mistake in my life?