Episode 195

Etta sat alone in her private quarters aboard the Battleship Plum, curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room. Though the room boasted a plush, comfortable bed, she only ever used it for the actual act of sleeping. Every morning, without fail, she woke up to find she had migrated back to the floor. The habits of the facility were not easily broken.

"…………"

Her mind, still foggy with sleep, drifted back to the old days.

She remembered a facility that was sterile, spotless, and utterly devoid of joy. There had been at least a hundred others there in the same situation as her. She’d never actually counted them, of course, but that was the number she’d estimated when they were all herded into one place for something called an "evacuation drill." That was the only time she had ever experienced a crowd. Normally, gathering in groups of three or more was strictly forbidden. The rules were enforced by the clothing they wore; stay too close to another person for too long, and a localized electrical current would surge through the fabric. Even when sharing the same floor, no one ever dared to approach another.

There were countless other rules, and Etta had been shocked more times than she could remember. Several burn scars still marred her skin, and the memory of the pain remained vivid. Her entire body would go into spasms, her throat seizing so tightly she couldn't even scream. These "disciplines" usually followed a failure during "Work"—a task Etta loathed with every fiber of her being. But as terrible as the Work was, refusal invited punishments that were far, far worse.

"The white coats are gone. It’s safe here," Etta whispered quietly, as if the words themselves were a protective charm.

She hugged her trembling arms and took several deep breaths. A quick glance at her BISHOP showed it was five minutes before her scheduled wake-up time. Back at the facility, this would have been the moment she was marched off to Work.

Her Work had primarily consisted of finding things that weren't there. It started with simple games—guessing the contents of a sealed box—and escalated to tracking hidden ships across the vast reaches of space. She had been forced to intercept and decode encrypted communication waves drifting through the void and read the data-streams of BISHOP units used by others. Occasionally, they made her compete against the other children. She always won, which only made her hate the Work more. Her "competitors" almost always disappeared from the facility shortly after their defeat. She didn't know where they went, and she didn't care to imagine the possibilities.

"……Noisy."

With a flick of a thought, Etta silenced the BISHOP alarm that was ringing directly into her brain. She stood up and gave a long, slow stretch. A wave of lightheadedness washed over her, and her vision shifted, opening into that unique, shimmering spectrum that allowed her to perceive electromagnetic waves.

"Good morning, Sister Yotta. I woke up early again today."

She ran a hand through her long hair, and a section of her vision flared with a soft, iridescent glow. Her hair was home to a massive colony of nanomachines that constantly reshaped the strands into a form optimized to function as an electromagnetic receptor.

"You look beautiful today, Sister."

Picking up the wooden comb Marl had bought for her, she began to brush with gentle, rhythmic strokes. The smooth teeth felt worlds apart from the cold metal tools she’d known before. This was her most precious treasure—the hair transplanted from the woman she had loved like a sister.

"It’s almost time for work. I have to go."

Once her hair was perfectly groomed, she tucked the comb into a small box reserved for her most valued possessions. The box was a chaotic hoard of stuffed animals, makeup kits, and picture books. Each item was a trophy of her new life aboard the Plum, and seeing the collection grow day by day brought her a quiet, intense joy. Despite earning a respectable salary for her contributions to the ship, she didn't just put anything in the box.

Entry into the Treasure Box required passing a rigorous set of standards. Etta frequently held "Screening Committees" for new acquisitions. As the Committee Chairperson, Etta would inspect the item, weigh its merits, and deliver a final verdict. The three stuffed animals on the board of directors usually shared her opinions.

Items that failed to meet her discerning gaze were relegated to a rugged, utilitarian iron container. A recent casualty was a pair of pink underwear gifted to her by Manager Alan. The Committee Chairperson had determined that, as a mature adult, the design was "insulting to her maturity." Also, it was just a little bit creepy.

"Good morning, Teiro. Good morning, Alan. What are you two doing?"

Etta had been on her way to the bridge when she spotted the two men huddled together, whispering conspiratorially. At the sound of her voice, they jerked apart, their hands flying up in a frantic, guilty wave.

"O-Oh, good morning, Etta! Great weather today! Why don’t you head up to the bridge? I’m sure Koume is already there!" Taro stammered.

"Is that Etta? Scared the life out of me, I thought it was the Boss-lady… Hey, Teiro, look! Here she comes!" Alan hissed, ignoring Etta and frantically tapping Taro’s shoulder while staring down the hallway.

Etta followed their gaze. A woman was walking toward them—the helmsman from the second bridge, if Etta recalled correctly.

"Good morning, President Teiro, Manager Alan. I look forward to another productive day!" the woman said, offering a bright smile and a crisp salute.

Taro and Alan straightened up, adopting their most "official" and "dignified" expressions. "Umu," they grunted in unison, returning the salute with practiced gravitas. As soon as the woman passed them and headed up the stairs, their "professional" masks disintegrated.

"…………What are you doing?" Etta asked, watching them stare intently at the woman’s retreating figure.

Without looking back, their heads tilted upward in perfect sync, they answered.

"Well… if you have to ask… let’s just say it’s a battle between men," Taro muttered. "Wait… is that blue?!"

"No, hold on, Teiro. It looks violet to me. Did you factor in the refraction from the ambient lighting?" Alan countered.

The two were vibrating with a bizarre, scholarly excitement. Given their low-angle perspective, it was obvious they were trying to guess the color of the woman's underwear.

"It’s red," Etta informed them, wondering why they were making it so complicated. "The lights are blue. The colors are mixing to look purple."

Since she could literally see the electromagnetic waves passing through fabric, translating them into visible light colors was trivial.

"I see. Miss Eileen wears red… how unexpected," Taro mused, his eyes widening. "Is she secretly the passionate type?"

"Hehehe… a lady by day, but in the bedroom, she brings out the battle-gear—GWAUGH?!"

A black blur streaked across the corridor as Taro let out a strangled shriek.

"What is wrong with you two this early in the morning?! Honestly, you’re both idiots!"

The blur resolved into Marl. She had just connected a flying knee directly into Taro’s face, and he was currently rolling on the floor, clutching his nose. Without missing a beat, Marl twisted mid-landing and delivered a localized "justice strike" via a kick to Alan’s groin. Alan collapsed in a heap, a look of profound, silent sorrow etched onto his face.

"Let’s go, Etta. Ignore these losers."

Marl turned on her heel and marched up the stairs. Etta paused for a second to pat Taro’s head sympathetically before following Marl to the bridge.

"Good morning, Miss Marl, Miss Etta. How are we today?" Koume greeted them as they stepped onto the primary bridge.

"Terrible," Marl snapped.

"I’m okay," Etta replied.

"Today’s patrol mission is estimated to take three hours. Following that, we have two hours of classroom study scheduled. Please prepare yourself accordingly," Koume said with a polite bow.

Etta nodded and hopped into her specialized seat. Three hours of patrol was easy, and she actually didn't mind the lessons Koume gave. She knew she wasn't the smartest person on the ship, and half the time the concepts went right over her head, but she enjoyed the process regardless.

"Well now, if it isn't the little one. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

After her shift and studies, Etta had headed to Bella's quarters. Bella was usually busy leading the Main Fleet on maneuvers and was rarely seen on the Plum, but today she was in her private office, buried in paperwork.

"Cleaning. I always do this room," Etta said, proudly hoisting her vacuum-like cleaning device.

Bella chuckled. "That’s right, you do. You’re a lifesaver, kid. I’ve never been much for tidying up… Hey! Don't just stand there with your thumb up your nose! Get the usual ready!"

Bella barked the order at a subordinate standing nearby. The man snapped to attention with a sharp "Ma'am!" and vanished into the adjacent room.

"…………It’s already clean," Etta noted, blinking at the spotless room. Bella was always surrounded by underlings; they must have beaten her to it.

"Oh? Is that so? Well… maybe the side room is a disaster. I’ve got some real butterfingers on my staff, you see," Bella said, casting a pointed look at the door the man had just walked through.

Suddenly, the sound of things crashing and scattering echoed from the other room.

"Oh! Oh no! What a disaster!" the man’s voice wailed from inside. "I’ve gone and spilled the Boss’s incredibly important data chips everywhere! Woe is me!"

Etta hurried into the side room to find hundreds of black chips carpeting the floor. Without a word, she knelt down and began carefully picking them up, one by one, alongside the "clumsy" subordinate.

"Phew! You’re a hero, Miss Etta. I’d have been here all night if you hadn't helped. As a token of my undying gratitude, please, have some of this!"

The man produced a cart laden with cakes and juice. Under Bella's watchful, satisfied gaze, Etta happily devoured the treats before deciding it was time to head to her next stop.

"See you around, little one," Bella called out as Etta left.

Her next destination was the High-speed Moving Lane. Her peaceful routine was briefly interrupted when Sakura appeared and Etta had to flee for her life—she still didn't know how to handle Sakura’s "aggressive" brand of affection—but otherwise, her workday ended without incident. She ate dinner, bathed, and crawled into bed. It was the same routine, day after day.

"Now then, which story would you like tonight? How about 'The Adventures of Cida'?"

Liza, dressed in a silk nightgown, offered a warm smile as she held up a data chip. Etta, already tucked in beside her, shook her head.

"Then let's try 'Julietta and the Mysterious Star System.' It’s a new one, but I think you'll find it charming… Once upon a time, back when the Empire was very, very small…"

Liza’s voice was a gentle, melodic caress. Etta was already drifting off, the actual plot of the story lost to the encroaching fog of sleep. But that didn't matter. If she didn't remember it, she could enjoy it all over again tomorrow.

"In that star system………… Julietta found…………"

The lullaby of Liza’s voice grew distant. Etta knew she would likely wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and retreat to her corner on the floor, but for now, she surrendered to the softness of the bed and the warmth of the woman beside her.

In the final, fleeting moment before her consciousness slipped away, a single, powerful thought took hold.

I am happy right now.

The others didn't talk about it in front of her, but she wasn't blind. She knew something big was coming. It was rare for the entire upper management of the Rising Sun to be gathered in one place like this.

Whatever happens, I’ll do anything to protect this.