Contrary to Canopus’s expectations, he was taken not to a solitary confinement cell but to a private room for visiting senior officers from other departments. All his weapons were confiscated, of course, including his CAD and combat devices, but it didn’t seem like it would be too hard to escape. CADs were an essential tool for modern magicians, but casting spells was still possible without them. While casting could be hindered, there was no widespread method of blocking magic completely. Canopus had heard about special mental interference techniques that inhibited magic, but none of the Stars had them up their sleeves.
Possibilities aside, Canopus didn’t try to escape or even leave the room. Hours passed without any food, but he managed to get through the night with just the bottled mineral water in the refrigerator.
It was already past 9 PM when someone finally called for him. With Lieutenants Bellatrix and Alnilam in tow, he was escorted to the commander’s office. There was a single chair in front of the desk. Arcturus and Vega sat in similar chairs against the wall., while Major Capella, commander of Team 5, sat grimly behind the desk.
“Take a seat,” Commander Walker instructed.
Canopus saluted and sat before the commander’s desk.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Major Canopus. You are suspected of aiding in Lieutenant Ralph Hardy Milfak’s escape, injuring several Stars in the process.”
As Walker had expected, a look of surprise crossed Canopus’s face.
“It seems formal orders were properly issued for Major Sirius’s travel,” he explained. “Colonel Balance knew what she was doing.”
In other words, Balance’s orders had saved Lina from being accused of any wrongdoing. Canopus donned his usual poker face.
“I believe you are aware of the disagreement among the higher-ups about the Japanese strategic magician, Tatsuya Shiba,” the commander continued.
“I am.”
The USNA military’s top brass were sharply divided—treat Tatsuya as a threat and eliminate him, or exploit him as a political asset? The elimination faction aligned closely with those who viewed Japan as a threat in the Western Pacific, while the exploitation faction saw Japan as a potential ally to block the Pacific expansion of the Great Asian Alliance and New Soviet Union.
“Then, you of all people should understand that Tatsuya’s strategic magic is much too powerful for anyone to hope to exploit.”
“……”
Walker frowned briefly at Canopus’s silence but quickly resumed his usual professional speech.
“I, for one, believe Tatsuya Shiba should be eliminated. Captains Arcturus and Vega agree.”
“Commander,” Canopus interjected vaguely, “I worry about the health of those two.”
“It’s no secret, Major,” Arcturus chimed in. “Yes, I have merged with a parasite, but my loyalty to our country remains unchanged. In fact, it’s the core of my spirit.”
Capella, sitting across from him, didn’t bother to hide her frown.
“We are currently considering how to handle Captain Arcturus’s…situation,” Walker said.
This statement confirmed Canopus’s fear. Walker was undeniably under the influence of the parasites’ mental manipulation. It wasn’t puppetry exactly, but rather a form of suggestion. It paralyzed rationality by stimulating innate desires and fears to control the victim without their realizing it.
“You don’t seem to be in the elimination faction, Major,” the commander commented.
“Even if violence is inevitable, assassination is not the solution.”
“Please,” Walker scoffed. “You know such naïveté has no place in the real world.”
“I don’t see why we can’t be idealistic,” Canopus countered.
He wasn’t completely against dirty tactics. He knew there were situations where principles alone wouldn’t solve the problem.
At the same time, moderation was key. Acting on “necessity” was an excuse that, if applied without limits, could easily turn a military into a violent mob. Canopus had learned this lesson well.
“Would you consider striking a deal, Major?” Walker had clearly given up on persuasion.
“Are you suggesting a plea bargain?” Canopus asked tentatively. He wanted to make sure they weren’t suggesting anything illegal.
“Precisely,” Walker confirmed.
Canopus sighed with relief. Walker took advantage of this opening to seize control of the negotiation.
“If a military trial is convened for you, the general staff will inevitably intervene, given the unique nature of our unit. Under the current circumstances, your trial would likely devolve into a debate between the two factions regarding Tatsuya. Such a scenario would exacerbate tensions and could cause serious disruptions in military operations.”
Canopus didn’t disagree with this. In fact, it seemed like a very plausible outcome. Nevertheless, there was little likelihood of the military becoming dysfunctional due to the division over Tatsuya’s fate. The higher-ups were not foolish enough to let that happen.
Under regular circumstances, Canopus would have fought back. However, once a superior had the upper hand, it was difficult to disagree. Even if that superior was not completely himself.
“If you admit your personal negligence resulted in Lieutenant Regulus’s injury, we will deem Lieutenant Milfak missing in action, rather than labeling him a deserter,” the commander said. “We can even promise to go easy on Lieutenants Algol and Shaula’s sentences.”
“And what would be my punishment?” Canopus asked, knowing argument would be futile.
“Imprisonment for one year.”
That was a fairly heavy sentence for a plea bargain. But Canopus was a serious obstacle for the parasites. A year of imprisonment was a convenient way to keep him from interfering.
“Also,” Walker continued, “I’d like to process your sentence as an undercover mission. This way, it won’t tarnish your military record, and your family won’t worry unnecessarily.”
“All right,” Canopus conceded. “On two conditions.”
“Of course. I’m happy to accommodate within reason.”
The commander seemed surprisingly flexible. It was unclear whether his subconscious was resisting the parasitic thought manipulation or if he simply recognized Canopus’s strategic value. Both seemed equally plausible.
“I’d like you to put me in Midway Prison.”
“Are you sure?” Walker asked in surprise.
He studied the major’s face, trying to glean his motives. The military prison on Midway Island was one of the most isolated and least desirable facilities, reserved for serious offenders.
“Wouldn’t that be more convenient for you, Commander?” Canopus quipped.
A frown flickered about Walker’s face before he quickly masked any sign of displeasure.
“Fine. You have my word,” he responded. “And the second condition?”
“I would like Lieutenants Algol and Shaula to be imprisoned with me.”
“At Midway Prison, you mean,” Walker scoffed.
Canopus remained unfazed.
“Yes. I believe you said they would be punished, too.”
“You have yourself a deal.” Walker nodded solemnly. “Major Capella will escort the three of you to Midway.”
Captains Arcturus and Vega exchanged satisfied smiles. Across from them, Captain Capella remained visibly upset to the very end.
Canopus, Algol, and Shaula’s confinement at Midway Prison was formally finalized the next day. Though the unusually swift procedure raised eyebrows at the Pentagon, no one, including Colonel Balance, questioned the decision.