As I sat down, I could feel the entire crew’s eyes boring into me, though some were more subtle about it than others.

“So? How'd you like the ship?” Varrick was the first to speak.

“What?”

“Heard from Rohan you were wandering around the ship.”

“Boss, ain’t nothing interesting up there,” Silva interrupted. “Just pipes, storage, and a bunch of things that probably shouldn’t still be working.”

“Silva.” Varrick was more strangely serious than usual

“Right, right. Quiet.” Silva scurried away.

Varrick looked back at me.

“I’m asking you.”

I processed the question for a moment.

“Well, for one, your ship is a mess.”

A long, awkward silence ensued.

Slowly, everyone at the table turned toward Varrick without a shred of sympathy in their eyes. It was akin to an angry mob who who had been waiting years for someone else to say it.

Rohan pointed at me. “See, bass? Even Abiku agrees.”

“Yeah well, at least someone had the balls to say it.” Silva grinned and turned toward Akane, with her nodding back in reply.

The gas-masked man simply remained silent in the corner, as if none of this concerned him.

“Fine! If you’re all suddenly experts on running a ship, feel free to tell me how to do my job!”

Varrick slammed his hand against the table, causing everyone to fall silent.

“Yeah, d-don’t insult boss’s b-b-baby,” the gas-masked man muttered through his mask.

Varrick’s eye twitched, his face flushed red until his voice finally broke into a scream.

“HEY! IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!”

Silva covered his mouth as he barely held back a laugh.

“Mate, you literally polish the exterior every morning.”

“Yeah, so what? That’s called maintenance!”

“Mhm.” Silva grinned. “And isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“You also named the engine,” Rohan cut in.

“You said it needed a name!”

“I said give am a name. I no say kiss am, cuddle am, and call am your baby.”

Varrick stood as he protested “HEY, Hey! That’s completely out of context! And that only happened once!”

'Once' would imply that it actually happened, and somehow the smallest shred of respect I held for him was fading. Perhaps the other thought so too as the room suddenly went quiet.

Noticing the stalemate, I looked at Varrick straight in the eyes.

“...You kissed your engine?”

“NO.”

“...But he just said it happen-”

“I said it was out of context!”

On accounts of brain instability this man probably could probably be comparable to Myers.

Akane sighed, resting her head against her hand.

“Please stop making his argument worse.”

“Oh, shut up! You agreed with them too!”

“Excuse me?!”

Within seconds, the discussion descended into chaos. What began as a simple argument quickly became a storm of accusations, insults, and eventually fists being thrown across the table.

I sat there silently, watching the scene unfold and strangely enough, I would be lying if I said I didn't find it quite amusing. No logical analysis of mine could possibly explain how such a small argument managed to erupt into something as large as this.

To me, all their needless decisions were inefficient and often influenced by something I had only observed from a distance, emotions. Despite all the battles I had endured, this is the main reason I had always found other species difficult to predict.

Anger. Affection. Frustration. Attachment.

They all seemed irrational to me, yet somehow it guides them more than logic ever could. In any case, I didn't need to be here anymore, I'll just quietly step out as their argument continues.

Just as I was about to stand and leave when I noticed the man in the gas mask quietly watching me from the corner.

“T-they’re always like this,” he whispered. “D-don’t mind them.”

I looked back at the chaos and then towards him, right now he seemed to have more wits than what I initially judged him with.

“I see, so is this considered normal behavior among your crew?”

The masked man stared at the fighting group.

“...U-unfortunately.” He replied flatly but didn't seem bitter about it.

It was difficult to imagine how a squad this disorganized could belong to the Bastard Knox.

The Bastard Knox I knew as a Rider were elite mercenaries that were efficient, disciplined, and completed their contracts without fail as long as the payment was right.

These four, however, seemed less like a mercenary unit and more like a dysfunctional family.

“Boss, Abiku’s eyes are judging us.” Rohan said as his eyes flickered towards me.

Varrick and the others slowly snapped out of their frustration and returned to the table.

“Sorry about that, Otto.”

“Grim.”

“Right. Otto.” Varrick cleared his throat. “It’s just that some of us are ungrateful for what they have.”

“Ungrateful? More like disgusted,” Akane interrupted.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Varrick turned back toward me.

“Anyway, eat while I explain our schedule for getting you back to the Western Front.”

He slid a metal plate towards me.

On it was something mashed together into a pale yellow substance, in this state calling it food seemed generous. If I were to compare, it looked more like engine oil residue than something meant for consumption.

“Your expression makes it seem like it’s worse than what you normally eat,” Varrick remarked sarcastically.

“I do not normally eat.”

The table became slightly quieter, waiting for an explanation.

“I receive nutrients through a feeding tube inside my M.T. once a month. It provides sufficient sustenance.”

Silva stared at me with a hint of sympathy. “Bruv, that sounds bleak as hell.”

“This food appears more bleak.”

Silva looked taken aback and personally offended. “Oi! Don’t judge a book by its cover. Use the fork over there.”

I looked down at the table, beside my plate were two metal objects. One was oval-shaped, while the other had several pointed ends resembling a small trident.

“What is a fork?”

Silva looked toward Akane for assistance but she immediately rejected his notions and looked away.

“It’s a utensil,” she explained.

“What is a utensil?”

Silva rubbed his temples. “Are you like eight years old?”

“No. I was manufactured ten years ago. However, I was provided with the memories of an adult. If you explain the function of a utensil, I will understand.”

The table fell quiet again.

“Provided? What exactly do you mean by that?” Akane tried to probe me for answers.

“I cannot disclose classified information.”

She sighed but knew not to press further. “Utensils are tools used for eating. You can eat with your hands, but utensils make the process easier.”

“I see.”

I looked down at the objects again.

“It is strange.”

“What is?” Varrick asked.

“I understand the concept of eating. It is a basic survival function. However, the tools humans created for it are unfamiliar to me.”

“Hm. I see.” Varrick nodded. “The fork is the one to your left.”

I picked up the fork.

Its shape was unusual, however I could see this being used like a combat knife, it had a practical design for stabbing after all. With that notion in mind I gripped it firmly and drove it into the food with the same force I would use on an enemy combatant.

As a result, the mashed substance launched across the table.

“Jeez! Are you trying to murder the bloody potatoes?!” Silva shouted as some of the food landed on his jumpsuit.

The others seemed amused though.

“I don’t understand the mistake.”

“For starters, you don’t stab your food with it!”

Silva grabbed his own fork and demonstrated, scooping up a small amount before placing it into his mouth.

“That’s how you use a fork.”

I looked down at mine then carefully copied his movement, being gentle was an oddly hard sensation to master but I soon managed to place the food within my mouth.

It was different from the liquid nutrients I received through my M.T. It was drier and more solid which required chewing, the more I chewed, textures that I had never experienced before began to fill up my mouth.

It was inefficient.

Yet...

It was not unpleasant.

“Interesting,” I muttered.

Silva smiled slightly. “See? Not everything humans make is terrible. That's called mashed potatoes”

I continued eating mashed potatoes.

Perhaps this crew was inefficient and disorganized.

But for reasons I could not yet understand.

I found myself staying at the table with them.