He's full of (sh)it.
(Keith)
It took exactly thirty days for the novelty of the Garrison to lose its charm on Keith - which incidentally was also the same number of days it took for him to find himself standing in the middle of the office at block A-34.
The commander was hunched over his desk and rubbing circles into either side of his temple. It was nine in the morning yet he looked like he wished the day was over. After a minute or so of massaging his forehead, he inhaled deeply and forced the breath out of his mouth in a dramatic, protracted gust.
"Stand at attention when you're in the presence of a superior officer, son," he said.
Keith stood at attention, resisting the desire to roll his eyes. It would have been painful to do, given a rapidly swelling black eye.
When the Commander finally deigned to give him his full attention, the frown on his face was a scruitinizing one.
"Kogane, was it? You know why you're here?"
"I got into fight," Keith said. And because he couldn't resist: "I didn't start it. I only reacted to protect myself."
"That's not what the other guy said." The commander was a large man. His chair creaked with effort when he leaned into the backrest. "And that wasn't my question."
"You asked me why I was here - "
"Here as in here at the Galaxy Garrison, not here in my office."
Keith frowned.
The Commander frowned back.
"Your recommendation letter was written by one of our finest graduates," he said, then paused. "God rest his soul."
Keith tried to keep his face neutral but was pretty sure he failed. That last statement threatened to unpack a lot of things he wasn't prepared to deal with just yet. Thankfully, the Commander broke the silence by rifling through the papers on his desk. He pulled out a sheet that had two horizontal fold marks near the middle and held it out before him.
"Do you know what this says about you?" he asked as he squinted at the paper while patting for something in his breast pocket. The paper caught a ray of light from one of the open windows, briefly revealing the writing on the reverse side and the neat signature at the bottom of the page.
Keith averted his gaze to the ground and ignored a stab pain that probably came from his eye. "No, sir."
"Didn't think to sneak a peek?"
He gritted his teeth at that, and clenched the fists behind his back. Why did people expect him to act like a punk? Was it because he had decided to grow out his hair? Because he thought small talk was a waste of time? He liked to think that he knew at least the basic tenets of respect - do onto others and all that crap. Maybe he liked to challenge authority from time to time but that was only with anyone who did something so mind-numbingly stupid that he just couldn't stand by and watch the injustice unfold. He had encountered many people like that while he was in the system.
There had been a few good ones, though, and the one that stuck around the longest... well obviously he had Keith's total and undeniable respect. People who got Keith's total and undeniable respect never had to worry about Keith trespassing on their privacy. Obviously.
The commander cleared his throat and Keith looked up to meet the end of a very dry stare that peered at him through a pair of delicate-looking reading glasses.
"It says here that you're a serious fellow. Didn't think it meant humorless too," said the Commander, and Keith reddened with sudden understanding. "About half the applications I go through comes with a letter of rec that's been resealed. Hell, I couldn't resist a peek myself when I was just a cadet. Too curious for my own good." He shrugged. "It doesn't really impact your chances of getting in. That sort of childish behavior is easy to weed out in the early stages of the program."
The commander's chair creaked again as he leaned back with a sigh.
"Shirogane pegged you as a natural flier," he continued. "Raw talent. Keen instincts. We saw as much from your performance in class these past few days. You seem to enjoy it as well, am I wrong?"
"No sir," Keith said with some hesitation. It was kind of weird to realize that his teachers had noticed that he was having fun on the simulators. It felt like an invasion of privacy somehow.
He cleared his throat and steeled himself for what he wanted to say next: "You have a 'but' coming up though, right? I'm talented but... impulsive? Hardheaded?" People seemed to enjoy pegging him as this or that.
The commander tossed Shiro's recommendation letter back onto his desk and rested steepled fingers above his chest. The tiredness had returned to his gaze. "Nah, I'd say you're full of shit."
Keith blinked.
Frowned again.
"What?"
"Gone deaf now? I said you're full of shit," the commander grumbled, sounding annoyed. "I asked you why you're here, attending the Garrison. Obviously you want to be a pilot, yes? On a damn scholarship and recommended by Takashi Shirogane no less." He flicked his fingers at the letter on his desk, driving that knife in deeper. "He references your attitude but claimed that you were driven enough to remain focused on your studies - to be open to learning the discipline that is necessary for interstellar travel. Do you think I've seen proof of that in the month you've been around? Or is that brand new shiner of yours your crowning moment of achievement?"
Keith clenched his jaw and tried - then failed - to hold the commander's straightforward gaze. His eye throbbed, but by now it was obvious that the pain wasn't coming from there.
"Sir," Keith began, then stopped. What was there to say to that? Sorry? But he wasn't sure if he meant it enough for it to leave his mouth.
Obviously he wanted to be a pilot. Obviously. There were papers and everything to prove it. He liked flying, he was good at it, and had the potential to get even better at it.
Shiro had said as much, hadn't he?
"Technically this is your first offense of this kind so I'm obligated to let you off with just a warning," said the commander's voice somewhere in the background. "I realize that you must be dealing with... things. It hasn't been that long since the incident, after all."
He nodded numbly and started when the commander patted his shoulder. He hadn't even realized that the other man had stood up from his desk.
"You're on cleaning duty for the next month, alright? I suggest you use that time to get your head on straight. Remember why you're here. Find that focus that Shirogane claimed you had. I can't think of a better way to honor his memory than by becoming what he believed you could be."
"Sir," Keith said, because there was nothing else to say to that.
He left the office with a gaze so heavy that all he could see was the path in front of him. If he stumbled into a few people along the way, he didn't notice and nobody stopped him.
Despite the shakedown of that morning, he skipped his next class and found himself standing on the building roofdeck, staring out into the vast vermilion landscape that surrounded the Garrison.
He thought that things would finally come into focus here but of course it wouldn't be that easy. Had it felt right to attend the Garrison just because Shiro had recommended it so enthusiastically? Because here he was, and there were times that it did feel right - like sitting in a cockpit that was modeled after the insides of a standard spaceflight vehicle, or, oddly enough, out here on the roofdeck - and there were other times where it just felt... not right. Which encompassed pretty much everything else about the Galaxy Garrison.
Why couldn't things make sense?
Maybe the commander was right about him.
Maybe he really was just full of shit, wasting everyone's time out of indecisiveness.
Maybe Shiro was wrong about him. The Kerberos mission failed due to pilot error, right? Which meant that even a guy like Shiro could be wrong.
So maybe... maybe the commander was right, Shiro was wrong, and Keith ought to listen to his gut again.
His gut was telling him, Maybe you can just leave?
It was an interesting line of thought. He considered it. And the longer he considered it, the more it felt right.
