To say that the son of Duke Orleans is not happy to see his replacement is an understatement. He doesn’t know what is going on yet, but he sees his hated nemesis standing next to the Commander with a pleased look on his face and knows that nothing good could be happening.
His first thought is to send a message to his father and have the annoyance put in his place, but he can’t do that in front of the Commander of his unit, even with all his impetuous rage, he knows that such things are best done behind the scenes. But Max has given him the perfect opportunity, having an attendant take him to the medical wing to check his system status and physical condition. His family has been doctoring those all through school for him, and he is confident that will continue with only a single message, so he doesn’t put up a fight as the orderly helps him down the hallway.
Max looks to Nico and she nods back, her thoughts confirming that she has already invalidated all of the Pilot’s test scores as a system error and submitted him for reevaluation once they have left the planet. Until then he will be held in sick bay, and Nico has blocked all his methods of communication, short of convincing a crew member of the Abraham Kepler to make the connection for him.
To the higher authorities, it all looks very innocent, a simple data transfer error that can be solved in a single day with a full system evaluation and a piloting test. But on Kepler 111, nobody will know about it until it is too late, to avoid any complications.
The young noble also won’t be able to leave the medical bay for the next 48 hours, as the new soldiers are all under quarantine orders, to be sure they haven’t brought local diseases aboard the ship, a standard procedure whenever crews from different ships and planets have met.
“I see you are all concerned for the young noble, but not to worry, you all will be taking the exact same examination over the course of the next two days. Of course, if you pass, it will take under ten minutes and you won’t have to go until you drop from exhaustion, but that is hardly the point.” Max informs his unit as the physical training continues, bringing a wave of laughter and good-natured complaints about having to work so hard on their first day..
Pilot Singh is led out to go swap bunks just before everyone is released from training for the day. Max and Nico need to get to the Formal Ball, so they need to change, and Max hasn’t actually told Nico that she’s going yet. He even ordered the outfit for her through General Tennant, so that she wouldn’t track the requisition order back to him and find out what he had planned.
“Nico, I’ve had an outfit sent to your room. Get changed and I will come to get you in an hour so that we have time to get to the event hall on time. Nothing says sloppy management like showing up late.” Max informs her, while Nico gives him a dirty look.
“I take it you couldn’t find a plus one? You know, if you needed I could have arranged one for you. Maybe one of the lovely and docile ladies of launch control?” Nico says sweetly and Max shudders.
The staff of launch control rarely advance above base rank, so they are always broke, and the lack of physical requirements has led to the lovely ladies with some brains but no system compatibility using the department as a compensated dating service. Not to be judgemental, everyone has needs, but they have all been on the Abraham Kepler for at least eight years longer than Max has, and they didn’t join until after university at eighteen. That’s a bit too much of an age gap for his preferences.
Plus, he is not giving up on a chance to make Nico suffer through an evening of bigwigs and Nobles alongside him. He can’t get out of it, so she is coming with him. Even if he has to order her.
A full tuxedo proves to be much more difficult to wear than Max had expected, and with showering and shaving, he is only done a few minutes before he was planning to meet Nico. So, Max adjusts his cummerbund and stiffly walks over to her room, uncomfortable in the strange clothes.
Nico must have had the external cameras on, because she opened the door before he could knock, standing there with her short hair lightly curled and some sort of product in it that made it shiny. Max knew nothing of such things, his mother never used them, and Dave never mentioned women’s fashion to him before he went to the academy, where such things were deemed nonessential and prohibited.
Max is momentarily struck speechless by the sight of his friend in a floor-length black gown with long flowing sleeves and she smirks at him, giving a little twirl that shows she is having no issues with the spiked heels that the General ordered to go with it.
Max offers her his arm, as his research showed was proper protocol for escorting a noble lady. “You look lovely. Would you do me the honor?”
Nico laughed at his attempt at being a gentleman and placed her hand on his arm. “After you, Sir Max.”
He might technically be a Knight now, but nobody has ever referred to him as such. Inside the military only military rank matters. Unlike Cygnus, who puts a lot of weight on noble titles, the Kepler Military answers only to Immanuel, 94th King of Kepler Prime, and by the might of his armies, Seventh Emperor of all Kepler. Max has heard the phrase hundreds if not thousands of times over the years since he was reincarnated, but only now did it really sink in just how many lives had been spent to take and keep that title.
The two of them walk as far as the main corridor where they are met with a shuttle cart, an open buggy, with seating for ten, that is used as a shuttle around the length of the ship, and today to get to the Ball. There are a few of the officers from Noctem Regiment on board, who all smile politely at the new arrivals, just as uncomfortable in their formal wear as Max and Nico are.
Nico’s wrist device has been removed, in favor of a thin gold bangle, but it dings from the small black silk clutch she is carrying, making her smile.
“What’s up?” Max asks quietly, not wanting to spread gossip about the unit so early.
“Our young troublemaker assaulted a nurse when she refused to allow him access to off-ship communications. He has been sedated for the duration of planetfall and will face disciplinary action later.” Nico answers, not quite low enough to prevent others from hearing.
“There’s one in every unit. More than one in some. When the last recruitment from Noctem Seven was done, they had over thirty sedated in the brig for the last few days. All trying to pull Noble rank or get contraband smuggled in.” One of the Captains laughs.
“Oh, I remember that the young master of the Chen clan attempted to vent himself out an airlock when he found out that he had failed the follow-up examinations and was being demoted to infantry.” One of the others says with a malicious smile, still holding a personal grudge against the man.
“I’m certain that our case shouldn’t be as bad. There was just an issue with his data and he didn’t take it well, so we moved him for observation until it’s all sorted out.” Nico responds, nodding to Max to let him know what the official record says.
The cart gets them to the hall in only a few minutes, where a pompous man in a butler’s suit is checking their invitations against a chart of noble records. He clearly seems to see himself above most of these pilots, who were mostly chosen for their noble lineage, with only a few being allowed to come simply for their command status, but that stops when he gets to Max and Nico.
None of the others hold titles, they just come from noble families. But Max is a Proper Knight, and that is enough for the man to automatically give him respect. Then he looks at the tablet again and his face goes pale, flicking from Nico to Max and back to his tablet.
“Sir Max, might I ask as to your relationship with the Lady Tarith?” The butler asks politely.
“She is my second in command and longtime friend.” Max answers and the butler frowns while Nico begins to smile.
The man taps a device on his wrist, bringing over a more senior-looking servant, and they converse quickly in low tones before the senior staffer turns to Nico.
“Madam, is this correct? You are listed here as Sir Max’s plus one, but protocol dictates that you should be introduced separately.” The staffer informs her.
“An introduction as Lady Nico is more than sufficient,” Nico confirms and the man shrugs, tapping something on this tablet to confirm the settings.
“What’s that all about?” Max asks as they take their place in line.
“Remember when the Cygnus officers kicked up a fuss about titles? They insisted that I was listed as an Imperial Princess, 41 generations removed from succession. That’s why these stuffy nobles are all flustered, their data says I’m some foreign Royal, and they’re not high enough ranked to see the details.” Nico whispers back.
That confirms Max’s suspicions about the way the Kepler Empire is structured. The noble ranks have no business being involved with the military command structure.