Behind Blue Eyes

Posted on Fri Feb 6th, 2026 @ 2:40pm by Adrian Vale

484 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Graduation Day
Location: Dorm Complex

"Careful......careful....." Adrian whispered quietly in front of his workbench. He was tinkering with very tiny parts. The magnifying headgear he had on was bulky and obnoxious; a throwback to his time in the dim confines of the SS Vale's underbelly. As his hands, already tired from a day of training, shook, he was determined to complete the final wiring of his latest prototype of a Predictive Failure System to detect the tiniest of variations and prevent a system event.

Then, with the tiniest of spring noises, the wire's tension let go and the last thirty-five minutes of work was lost. Adrian sighed and quietly set the small device down. Leaning back in his chair, he rubbed his eyes and simply stared at the device. "Well, maybe the fifteenth time is the charm...."

He stood up and decided to get something to eat. As he left his dorm, he took a left towards the mess. Dinner would have started about twenty minutes ago. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was until this very moment. As he walked the corridor, people naturally dropped eye contact. It was nothing he wasn't used to. The number of times in his life he'd been told to, "Fix your face" was both disturbing and amusing. He knew his demeanor came off as too strict and uptight for his age. Years on a cargo vessel would do that to a man he supposed. Having to grow up too fast and look too old due to stress was a common theme. In fact, it was a running joke among transporters that when they attended a memorial for someone advanced in years, they'd often say, "He doesn't look a day over twenty-two."

That face had followed him here to the academy. He didn't have a real group of friends. People he would talk to? Sure. No one that got too close. While he had learned to live with it, it also stung at times. He knew, in his own heart, he would lay down his own life for pretty much anyone here, but they would never know it. He didn't need them to know it to be true.

As he entered the mess hall and got his food, he found a table by himself, in a corner, and simply watched the room. The familiar faces talked, ate, and every once in a while, caught sight of him and looked visibly uncomfortable. He knew what they thought; they were being judged. Instead, he simply wanted to observe the system at work. The dynamics, signs of failure points, and the way people expressed themselves in life. All the while thinking, "These are my people."

As he finished his meal and cleaned up, he took small notes on a napkin to record later. He made his way back to his room, picked up the tiny wire, and set to work for the fifteenth time.

 

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