Episode 1: Officer Academy Graduation

The Amato Stellar Arm within the Milky Way Galaxy. A star system named after the sun, designated as the Next Sun. Within this system, the planet Amato Star possessed habitable conditions from the beginning.

This Next Sun system, Amato Star, is the home planet of the Amato Imperial Japan.

The origin of Amato Imperial Japan traces to a late wave of emigrants from the Sol System Earth. Their long-range warp device malfunctioned, depositing them on a habitable planet in a different stellar arm. From that point, without aid from Earth or the Sol System, they rebuilt civilization from scratch and cultivated a distinct nation and culture.

Three hundred years after the migration, Amato Imperial Japan has developed peacefully as a single state, advancing technology and planetary development despite occasional disputes.

Yet, a threat has arrived.

Human Unity State Space Union. The dominant power in the Orion Arm, governing Earth within the Sol System. Having concluded development of the Orion Arm, the Space Union has extended its reach toward the neighboring arm—the Amato Arm.

Amato Imperial Japan asserts the Amato Arm as its own territory and has repelled the SU (Space Union).

Yet the SU does not relent. It sends military vessels without formal declaration, attempting to establish a bridgehead within the Amato Arm.

This situation has persisted for fifty years.

In Amato Imperial Japan, opinions have grown stronger favoring not just expulsion of the SU from the arm, but active strikes against the SU to crush its advancing influence.

At that moment, Dawson Iida—Amato Imperial Japan name, Iida Michaki—reached the graduation ceremony as a member of the 178th class at the Amato Imperial Japan Star Navy Officer Academy.

The graduation ceremony in the gymnasium and the subsequent parent-student reception concluded. Graduates were then returned to their classroom.

They would now be called in order of graduation ranking. Each would receive their commission from the academy's commanding officer and be assigned to their next posting.

"Class 178, top rank. Akatsuki Sumeragi. Report to the commandant's office."

"Yes!"

The student who stood upon hearing his name was a strikingly beautiful young man, age sixteen, with long, glossy black hair and deep black eyes set in a calm expression.

A member of the imperial family, as his surname 'Sumeragi' implied, and the third son of the reigning emperor. His Amato Imperial Japan name was Aka-tsuki no Sumeragi.

The emperor's authority belongs solely to the reigning emperor. Thus, even though Aka-tsuki is the son of the reigning emperor, he is treated as equal to other members of the imperial family. The imperial family itself is regarded as possessing an unapproachable lineage, considered as such by commoners and nobles alike. No one treats him as inferior.

"Please do your best, Your Highness Aka-tsuki!"

"Confirmed battleship assignment, Your Highness Aka-tsuki!"

Amid the cheers of his classmates, Dawson shows no reaction. He ignores the cold glances from around him.

Aka-tsuki, for reasons unknown, squints slightly with satisfaction at Dawson’s demeanor, then proceeds toward the principal’s office.

Five minutes later, Aka-tsuki returns. In his hand is a sheet of paper—according to tradition, the Officer Academy records commissions on paper. Upon returning to the classroom, he unfolds the paper fully.

"Assigned as fleet commander candidate aboard the battleship !"

The battleship . The Amato Imperial Japan's pride, a newly commissioned battleship less than ten years old. Five years ago, it reduced an illegal space fortress built by S.U. within the Amato star arm to cosmic dust with a coordinated main cannon barrage. Now, once again, the focus of attention.

To be assigned to serve aboard such a battleship, and to receive education aboard the vessel as a fleet commander candidate—this was an exceptional promotion, even when considering the status of noble birth. For a young officer who had just graduated from the Officer Academy, it was unprecedented.

And the fact that such an unprecedented promotion was possible confirmed the exceptional academic record of Akatsuki at the time of graduation, unmatched in the institution's history.

While the other cadets cheered Akatsuki's achievement, the name of the second-place graduate was announced.

"Dawson Ida. You are second place. Report to the principal's office."

"Yes."

The moment Dawson's name was called, the cheers from moments before fell silent as if they had never happened. It was as though the applause meant for Akatsuki would have been mistaken for praise directed at Dawson, and that was something to avoid.

The overt disregard was clear. Only Akatsuki spoke to Dawson.

"We haven't finished our match yet."

"Hmph. Say that again, you royal fool."

Akatsuki dismissed Dawson's outburst with a wry smile, but the other cadets bristled.

"Who do you think you are, orphan with no known parent, mocking Lord Akatsuki?"

"That's right! The nation exists because noble heirs were the first to descend upon the planet and raised their banner!"

"Good grades don't give you license to act like this!"

Dawson laughed through his nose at the chorus of reproach.

"Being second seat means you're below me by definition. You've tried countless tricks to bring me down—wasted effort. All of it."

He laughed loudly as he left the classroom.

After continuing his laughter until it faded beyond the hearing of his classmates, Dawson composed his expression and headed toward the principal's office.

A knock on the sealed door brought the principal’s voice from the other side.

"Enter."

The old-fashioned, aristocratic phrasing. The principal used it often—proud of his abilities and lineage.

Dawson, an orphan with no noble ties, always found the tone laughably pretentious. He chose not to mind it, recognizing it as the principal’s personal mannerism.

"Entering—178th class, Officer Academy of Amato Naval Forces. Dawson Ida!"

The face that greeted him upon opening the door was as antiquated as the words spoken—pale as chalk, with blackened eyebrows and crimson lips set in a thin mouth.

Beneath that face, a military uniform strained against defined muscle. Seated behind a heavy desk, the contrast was jarring.

This man, whose appearance suggested a street performer, was the head of the Officer Academy of Amato Naval Forces.

"Ah. I am here to deliver orders. Close the door and approach."

Dawson obeyed. He closed the door and stepped forward five paces.

The head nodded, satisfied. He withdrew a single sheet of paper. Just before handing it over, he lifted it sharply.

"I have a proposal before delivering this order."

"A proposal?"

Dawson recognized an unusual situation unfolding.

The head looked into Dawson's guarded eyes and continued.

"Let me say this in advance—the order is for you to report as a captain candidate to a battleship. If you wish, I have no objection to delivering it."

"...With your permission, may I ask a question?"

"Proceed."

"You speak as if there were another option. Was it not customary for candidates to serve aboard a battleship up to the third seat?"

"That is correct. By convention, that was the case."

"Then, would a command assigning me, the second seat, to a battleship not be a deviation from convention?"

That is correct. However, there is precedent. A command assigning me, as second seat, to a battleship would not be a deviation from convention. There was a hidden rivalry between the captain of a battleship and the parent of a graduate at the time. The graduate, considering family interests, requested a change in orders.

I see. If I decline the order, no one will be offended. Except for my own feelings, of course.

Dawson's formal speech shifted away from his discomfort toward the principal.

Essentially, that is it. Among my peers, there is one daughter of a duke and one son of a marquis. If there are only three available positions on battleships, they would prefer to assign them to noble children rather than an orphan like me.

I cannot say your point is entirely without merit. Especially from the family of the duchess, who now occupies the fourth position, there has been a request to find a way around this.

"Hmph. In the prestigious Amato Imperial Japan Naval Officer Academy, even the principal is reduced to this—disgusting. The national principle of Amato Imperial Japan is meritocracy. The most capable should rise to the top. Bloodline alone should not determine superiority, should it?"

Dawson's scorn drew a shrug from the principal.

"Stings, does it? Well, don’t get worked up. Listen to Mago’s proposal. This may not be unfavorable for you, Dawson. And if you dislike Mago’s proposal, you may still take the order to board that battleship."

"...If that’s the case, I’ll hear you out."

Dawson steadied himself slightly, adjusted his tone, and waited for the principal’s words.

"Then, what I ask of you, Dawson, is this order—appointment as special lieutenant."

"Special Lieutenant? You're putting me above my peer Akatsuki?"

In the Amato Imperial Japan, a Special Lieutenant holds a position above the same rank. For example, if there were a lieutenant with a century of seniority, a first-year Special Lieutenant would be senior to that lieutenant.

Following that logic, if Dawson became a Special Lieutenant, he would outrank all other lieutenants. That would mean he could be Akatsuki's superior—Akatsuki, who would become a lieutenant upon graduating from the Officer Academy.

The principal affirmed this structure.

"Of course. As the name suggests, this role carries secrecy. It is a rank not meant for public use."

"If you're going to assign an unpublicized rank, you should know I won't be easily manipulated, Principal."

Understood. In your case, practical benefit is what matters, isn’t it?

...You’ve been investigating me.

You’re sending funds to the orphanage that raised you. And you’re allocating half your officer cadet salary—training stipend—to them. A commendable act, rare among today’s youth.

So you’re bringing up salary. That means you’ll earn more as a special lieutenant than a regular lieutenant?

Quick and clear—appreciated. Accepting this assignment grants you the same base pay as a lieutenant, plus hazard pay, travel allowance, special assignment bonus, and an added contribution to officer pension. Upon mission completion, a captain’s待遇 is guaranteed. Accommodation is provided during the mission. Your salary will accumulate without limit. You’ll be able to send far more to the orphanage than before.

Listening to it, it sounds quite appealing.

But Dawson had one question he needed to ask.

"Who else is assigned to this mission besides me?"

"No one else. It's a solo mission for Dawson-kun alone."

"I see. Then I accept."

The principal seemed surprised by Dawson's agreement.

"Are you certain you decided so quickly, before hearing the full mission details?"

"Being alone is better than having a peer among my colleagues. If my peer shares the same mindset as the senior, then I would decline that senior too."

"...You've made quite the enemies, haven't you. Are you really that opposed?"

"I wouldn't share a table with someone who misinterprets Amato Imperial Japan's national principle as 'dragging others down and kicking them off the ladder.'"

"That remark stings, Principal Mako."

The principal handed over the paper order. Dawson took it, then asked one more question.

"Shall I proceed directly to the assigned post?"

"Very well. You will not return to the classroom, is that clear?"

"If this order is for special duties, I cannot disclose its contents. And I have no rapport with the recipient. Misrepresenting the order would only be an inconvenience. It is simpler to go without explanation."

"……Very well, then. I shall inform you that you are ordered to immediate transfer, as per Mako's directive."

Dawson bowed, then exited the principal's office. He walked down the corridor toward the school's exit, reviewing the order once more.

The order read—Rear Operations Room, Special Operations Division, Privateer Captain Assignment.

"Privateer—does that mean I am to become a pirate?"

A wry smile twisted the corner of Dawson's lips. The irony of an enforcer of maritime law being assigned to become a pirate was not lost on him.