Am I The PetaQ for telling my crewmates that Sto-vo-kor isn't real and that they are fighting for a fairy tale?

Throwaway because my commanding officer might find out.

I (21, M) am a junior tactical officer currently serving on a Bird-of-Prey. Unlike the rest of my traditional "blood and honor" crewmates, I spent a few years studying astrophysics and comparative theology at an interstellar academy. Because of this, I tend to look at the universe differently than my other mates.

A few nights ago, we were in the ship’s mess hall celebrating a successful skirmish. Everyone was completely wasted on blood wine, screaming opera, and bragging about how glorious their deaths would be.

My superior officer, "K" (35, M), started shouting about how he can’t wait to die in battle so his soul can ascend to Sto-vo-kor to feast with Kahless and hunt the black fleet forever.

Normally, I just nod along to keep the peace, but the blood wine got to my head, and I finally snapped.

I told K, in front of the entire deck crew, that Sto-vo-kor is nothing more than an ancient psychological coping mechanism invented by primitive nomads to make soldiers less afraid of dying.

I pointed out that despite centuries of scanning and mapping of the afterlife domains of various species, there is zero empirical data supporting a magical dimension where Klingons just fight and drink forever.

I told him, "When your heart stops beating, your brain cells die, your body collapses, and you become organic waste. There is no endless battle. You are just meat."

The entire mess hall went completely silent. It was so quiet you could hear the warp core humming.

K looked at me like I had just spit in his targ's face.

He didn't even try to debate me; he just stood up, smashed his cup on the deck, called me a soulless, human-brained petaQ, and challenged me to a duel.

If the First Officer hadn't stepped in to preserve the chain of command, K probably would have tried to end me.

Since then, the entire ship has completely ostracized me. No one will sit with me at meals, the engineers are purposefully calibrating my console to human temperature metrics (which is freezing), and my captain hinted that if I "accidentally" fall out of an airlock during our next cloaked maneuver, no one is going to sing a song to guide my soul anywhere.

I think I was just introducing some much needed scientific reality to a crew trapped in medieval thinking. They think I've brought a curse of dishonor upon the entire vessel.

So, Reddit... Am I the petaQ?