Eneas was happy; he felt good after many days, and although the traces of the beatings he had received could still be seen on his face, he decided to do the best thing he could think of and treat his classmates to something in the canteen.
The canteen of the blue pavilion was attached to the general dining room, where you could order à la carte and enjoy comforts even superior to those enjoyed by cadets aspiring to become officers.
Everyone was grateful; they had finished their first week of school and had plenty of reasons to celebrate. Agamemnon did not participate; he made an excuse to withdraw after his shameful performance.
The fact of being able to order whatever they wanted was in itself a reason for celebration, although Eneas continued with his Cadet façade of not many resources, buying a couple of rounds of drinks as befitted his role as hero of the day.
In the corner of the canteen, all the operations of the waiters were supervised by an old man, who, although he was not wearing a military uniform at that time, could be detected by his manner and by his gestures to indicate that he had been an officer.
The man's face was scarred, with white hair and a long beard. The rest of the officers who were in the canteen did not exchange words with him, not even a greeting, he only directed the dining room operations as if he were on a command bridge in the middle of a battle.
"Who is that man?" Eneas asked to Hector.
"That madman... don't you know Jahve?"
His name wanted to ring a bell with Eneas, but he couldn't place it in his memory. He suddenly opened his eyes.
"Are you saying that that old man is "The Almighty Jahve" the great admiral who led the second star war?"
"Well, he's not much of a great admiral anymore; as soon as the meal service is over, he'll start drinking, and that's when you'll be able to see his madness."
The story of the almighty Jahve was part of the ancient history of the armada, from the times before the unification of the three planets. According to records, Jahve was the youngest officer in history to be named grand admiral of the Hellenic troops, at only 27 years old. In battle, it seemed that his bloodthirsty hand could predict the tactics of his enemies and propose battles where his adversaries only knew defeat.
He earned the nickname Almighty, not only because he was an officer capable of leading an entire army with an iron fist, but because he did not hesitate to jump into battle, leading the fighter platoons himself. It was the time before the arrival of combat mechas.
However, in the bloody battle of Orion, the fighter that the Admiral was crewing was hit and was thrown out of control beyond the confines of that solar system... For days, they tried to track the weak signal that his fighter continued to emit, until A couple of days later the signal disappeared.
Many exploration ships were sent to at least try to bring back the remains of one of the great heroes of the armada. Two years after officially giving him up for dead, a navy ship detected a weak signal coming from the same area where his fighter was reported missing.
They managed to rescue him alive, however, and although he was not supposed to be more than 29 years old at the time, his body and appearance were those of a man over 50 years old.
When he managed to recover a little on the Helena space station, his madness became clear... He kept saying absurd things about another world, a paradise, and that we should earn salvation so that our souls could get there.
It was clear that he had been exposed for too long to the forces of empty space, and his mind no longer ruled. He was not in a position to return to active service; he was a danger to himself and to the men in charge of him. He was not officially demoted; he was treated as a war wound, and his name disappeared from the records.
Likewise, he was succeeded by Grand Admiral Uranus, who in turn was succeeded a few years later by the director of the Trojan Academy, Admiral Kronos, who was finally removed when the brilliant military figure of the young admiral Zeus Olympian commanded those old glories. To the world of memory.
What was a man like that doing running a canteen at an officers' school? Had he partially recovered from his madness? How old could he be, 90, 100 years old? Eneas was intrigued by the figure of the old admiral; at the moment, he did not seem crazy to him, so he decided to try to talk to him once his companions were leaving to go away for the weekend with his family.
The food was delicious, one of the best the cadets had ever tasted. They enjoyed the laughter and some well-deserved moments of relaxation after having made it through the first week.
Although they had had lunch and dinner together those days, the concern for the different classes and the pace of the academy had not allowed them to really fraternize with each other, but for once both the boys and the cadets could show themselves more as they really were.
Penelope turned out to be the kindest and most polite of all the girls in her group, while Casandra had a much more overwhelming personality. However, unlike his classmates, Eneas showed much less interest in establishing the typical courtship relationships between young and capable boys, if we compare him with the rest of his classmates.
When the last Cadet left it was already well into the afternoon, Eneas looked and sure enough Jahve had already started drinking. Eneas approached politely but without hesitation.
"Admiral Jahve, I wanted to personally thank you for organizing such excellent service during the meal and pay you my most humble respects."
Eneas had even given him the military salute.
"Admiral... it's been a long time since anyone called me that..."