Late at night, manning the Torpedo Warfare station on the bridge of the Brigand, Alexandra Geninov leaned forward and rested her head against the controls on her computer, yawning and moaning. She was supposed to get up and check the other stations soon. Bored out of her skull and just a little bit antsy, she began to drift in and out of various fantasies. Looking at each station reminded her of her officer cadre. There was a good crop of officers on the Brigand. A whole bridge full of beauties.
“Heh, heh, heh, heh.”
From the station on her right, a wheezy laugh echoed through the nearly empty bridge.
She ignored it.
Her station clock read 23:15 — the graveyard shift. The Captain said it was her turn for it.
Alex stood up from her station and walked over to Fatima’s, the buxom, raven-haired Shimii officer who worked on sensors. She picked up Shimii-compatible headphones and listened in for a moment at the sounds of the Ocean, while thinking about what it would be like to have cat ears. She tried not to think too much about touching Fatima’s ears. That was not professional– but like, everyone was thinking it, you know. That was Alex’s justification for herself. Fatima was hot as hell. No one would blame her for thinking that.
Alex sighed. She could not parse a single god damn sound she was hearing.
However, the station itself had a trained computer that could classify the sounds, and it was classifying everything Alex was hearing as “biologics.” As far as Alex was concerned this meant she did not have to care about it. Aside from a gorgeous and elegant profile, Fatima also had golden ears; only she could tell anything from the mess of sounds coming through the passive sonar.
Alex could not.
Still, as the graveyard shifter, it was her job to monitor the stations.
“Heh, heh, heh, heh,”
Ignoring the grating laughter coming from behind her, she moved on to Semyonova’s station.
Communications was the easiest thing to check. Everything was digital and user-friendly. Contrary to a layman’s understanding of it, the Ocean was extremely noisy, because water was amazing at conducting sound waves. Not all of those sound waves were audible to humans, however. Unaided human ears out in the water would not hear too much more than water itself moving around them, but ship instruments could parse the subtle cacophony of the seas with such high fidelity that it was possible to hear fish bubbles and crabs walking on the rocks. Ships would be bombarded with sounds at all times.
However, modern acoustic messages were special sounds that a computer interpreted data from. It was very rare that a whale call or something of the sort was incorrectly interpreted as an acoustic message. Because the throughput on acoustic messages was abysmal, they could only transmit text. So Semyonova’s station showed her the result of the ship’s constant parsing for the unique sounds of acoustic messages, and dumps of the translated text from the messages.
She had a few other tools for connecting laser calls, broadcasting over the ship monitors and other advanced stuff. Alex loved all the pre-recorded messages Semyonova had set up for minor itinerary items. There was a tool on her screen that controlled them. She almost thought of setting up the breakfast message to run several times — Semyonova had a really sexy laugh in that one. Instead, however, she just peeked into the inbox to spy on whatever military comms they got.
There was nothing on that screen for her to see, of course.
After printing messages to sheets of rock paper, they were passed on to the Commissar, who determined whether they would be stored and where, or destroyed them herself. Semyonova always deleted them from her station once she was done. It was standard operating procedure.
Semyonova was very dutiful, but she had such a happy-go-lucky charm too.
Blond, busty, plump; a lady you could hang on to. Semyonova was pretty hot too.
And of course, there was the first time they met. She had a messy side!
That discrepancy was something true connoisseurs like Alex referred to as a gap moe.
“Heh, heh, heh, heh,”
A laugh that was like nails scraping furiously on a chalkboard.
Alex ignored the chill down her spin and drummed her fingers on the station, sighing deeply.
She was just a hopeless woman of culture, astray in an ocean of luscious temptations.
“Keep it together Alex. You’re a professional.” She mumbled to herself.
In situations like this, the devil on her shoulder always won out over the angel.
After all, what was she supposed to do while just sitting here? The Captain wouldn’t let her have video games on the Bridge. And of course, that bitch Captain also made her take the graveyard shift even though Alex argued passionately against it. At least she had the decency to have that air of sultry, mature, experienced beauty while she chided Alex. Captain Korabiskaya was a woman who really could have taught a younger girl like Alex a thing or two in private–
“Heh, heh, heh, heh,”
Alex’s daydreams of being corrected by her blond bombshell of a Captain were cut short.
She had wanted to shout it out, but she was ultimately too cowardly to do so.
Alex stomped over to the electronic warfare station.
Unlike most of the other stations, which were very specialized instruments, the electronic warfare station was an ordinary terminal running a shell displaying a running log of ship computer diagnostics and networking data while idle. Alex knew a little bit about computer programming from her mastery of video games. Electronic warfare was pretty esoteric, but this officer station was also linked to the supercomputer.
She barely knew Zachikova, the electronic warfare specialist. During the Leviathan attack a few days ago she had been indisposed. When she came back, she stuck to her duties and said very little. She had a cold, robotic air; kind of skinny and pale, but with a certain edge to her. Maybe Zachikova was a special operations psycho, tempered through a life of peril and action. Someone who had seen all kinds of horrible things.
Alex had matured, complex tastes. She could appreciate a lady who could kill her.
“Heh, heh, heh, heh,”
Listening to that laugh was the mental version of stepping barefoot on glass.
“I can’t hear myself think through your stupid cackling! Could you shut up?”
Before she realized it, Alex had said it aloud. There was no taking it back.
From that corner of the bridge, a young woman made a noise to communicate her offense.
She put down the hand-held she had been reading from.
“Do you take offense to me using this time to enrich myself with cultural experiences as opposed to staring at the walls as you have been? Is my serene and maidenly laughter so vexing to you?”
Right next to Alex’s Torpedo Warfare station was the Main Gunnery station.
Seated at this station was Alex’s erstwhile “partner” in the graveyard shift, Ensign Fernanda Santapena-de la Rosa. She was pleasant to look at, if not to hear, but something about her was simply off and Alex couldn’t stand it. Her expression hardly helped, her soft lips were often curled into some domineering evil grin, and her disconcerting pink-red eyes could open much too wide when she was speaking. She wore a lot of makeup, purple on her lips and dark wine-red shadow around her eyes. Her hair was a colorful blond with a few purple highlights, slightly wavy, worn long with fluffy bangs and tied low with a thick band.
She wore the Treasure Box Transports skirt uniform over a black bodysuit, with a dark purple tie and the top buttons undone so that her collar stuck out. Her bodysuit was sleek and thin, and the tight, sleeveless design of the TBT shirts accentuated the soft curve of her shoulders and the ampleness of her chest, while the skirt complimented the length and definition of her legs–
Alex stopped and mentally shook herself out of such observations.
For her pride, she wanted to remain angry at Fernanda. In her unique estimation she would only say that Fernanda had interesting aesthetics ruined by a challenging personality that made Alex want to fight back.
“Fern, as it turns out you’re insanely fucking annoying, and I guess you want to be that way?”
“Hmph! You should be happy that I am here to grace your lonely self with my presence. Of course, how can I expect a refined appreciation of beauty from some droll competitive gamer?”
“What did you say to me? Talking shit about gaming? Do you wanna have a go?”
“Woe betide me! I am so threatened! Will you jump on my head until a coin comes out?”
“I’ll jump on your head when I’ve put it to the ground you fucking bitch–”
“Cut it out, now, you two.”
A sudden shout startled both Alex and Fernanda and ended their squabble immediately.
On the doorway to the bridge, the huge figure of Security Chief Akulantova appeared.
Partially shaded in the dim hall outside, her face looked much more unfriendly than usual. She was human, all Pelagis were human, but the gloom over her was just terrifying. Her height, the width of her shoulders and chest, she was built like she could squash Alex– particularly in her thighs–
No! That mindset had to be put to bed. Alex had to get serious now. The Chief was there!
Akulantova stared at the two of them and sighed, scratching her long, pale hair idly.
“Look, this is unbecoming of you two. I can understand it when sailors get rowdy but seeing officers fighting is just distasteful.” She said. “If I have to break up an officer slap fight, I’ll be mighty cranky about it.” She smiled at the two of them in a way that exposed some sharp teeth and turned her words into threats. “You two should kiss and make up. Graveyard shift sucks without a buddy. Trust me, I’m well aware.”
Fernanda and Alex pacified at once. Not in a million years would they challenge the Chief.
Akulantova smacked her hand against the steel wall of the bridge interior, as if just to make a loud noise. It caused Fernanda and Alex to jump again. Laughing at the two of them, she turned around and left the room. Alex watched her go. She realized she really had been extremely immature– in her defense, she had also been extremely bored, and she was not much of a night person, she told herself.
Both of the officers stared at one another in shock for a few moments, before taking note of the awkward silence and simply turning the other cheek on each other, still feeling too catty.
Fernanda picked her tablet back up and started reading again.
Alex finished checking the stations.
She was then confronted with having to return right to Fernanda’s side.
Their stations were closely adjacent. Why did she have to have that bitch for a neighbor?
Get a hold of yourself, Alex thought, finding her composure, Chief Shark is right. This silly shit is beneath you. You’re going to apologize because you’re the strong, confident, sexy biracial chick. Sometimes you just let the uppity bottom get the W on you, and it makes you look cool.
“Fernanda, maybe I’m a little sorry–”
“Heh, heh, heh, heh,”
Alex grabbed hold of her own hair and grit her teeth at the sound of that laugh.
What was with that laugh? How did it penetrate the recesses of her brain so deeply?
Sighing deeply, she walked over to her station and sat down.
She had about several hours left in her night shift. Then Fatima would relieve her and Fern.
Looking over to her right, Alex saw Fernanda deeply immersed in her tablet.
Hoping for a truce, she made the best effort she could to reach out.
“So, what’s got you guffawing so much anyway? Are you reading something?”
Fernanda looked up from the tablet as if she had to physically peel herself away from it.
She turned a narrow-eyed glare at Alex as if she were suspicious of her.
“Oh? Taken an interest now? Would you like my head to remain raised then?”
“Hey, I’m trying to be nice, ok? And I said I was sorry, but your wheezy laugh cut me off.”
“My laugh is beautiful. I will suffer no one to impugn the dignity with which I–”
“Why do you talk like that?”
“My speech is sophisticated, full of culture–”
“Okay, okay. You’re perfectly lovely and fine. Truce?”
Alex held up her hands like she had a gun pointed at her.
Fernanda studied her expression carefully and then seemed satisfied with herself.
Truly a wretched character! Who knew what was going on behind all the eyeshadow?
“Well, I shall take this as supplication. It is a long-running series of fantasy stories.”
Fernanda turned her tablet around to show Alex that she was indeed reading books.
“How come you get to read fantasy novels and I can’t play video games at my station?”
“If I were the arbiter of such things I would not abide you to pursue your shooters or platformers in here either. We all have borne witness to how easily your attention drifts at the mere mention of anything–”
“Wait, what, you know game genres? What do you play then?”
Alex blinked and stared at Fernanda, who puffed herself up with pride in return.
She put the back of her slender, gloved hand to her lips, and let out a terrible laugh.
“Perhaps that shall become a mystery you could unveil with time– or perhaps never!”
“Why are you like this? If you know the kind of games I play and you know enough to bug me about them specifically, you must also be a gamer! What do you play, RPG games; text games?”
Fernanda continued to stare down her nose at Alex. “Puzzle this out: what if one could peruse interactive digital entertainments without being cursed to wear the filthy appellation of gamer and what it constitutes. Ever thought of that? Perhaps I am above such plebeian labels, unlike you.”
“Plebeian? What the hell are you talking about? It’s your brain that’s fucking filthy!”
There was a slam on the back wall that caused Fern and Alex to jump again.
One long, lean, muscular arm reached out from the hall through the automatic door.
Soon as Fern and Alex looked, Chief Akulantova had retreated back to her rounds.
Both of them felt a chill down their spine and a certain pressure to cooperate.
“So, fucking, anyway, your book. Is it a comedy? You’re always laughing at it.”
Fern switched just as fast as Alex had away from their previous dead-end conversation.
“It is nothing so base and low as mere comedy. They are sweeping epics of high adventure that encompass all facets of the human emotional experience. I am drawn to excitement when characters I love seize upon the chances which they are given by fate, to make their destinies–”
Alex reached out and snatched the tablet from Fern’s hands.
“Huh? Hey, give that back– I mean, how dare you abscond with–”
Rotating on her chair, Alex turned her back on Fern and flipped to a random page.
Hovering behind her, Fern seemed to quickly resign herself while Alex read.
She found herself in a scene where a young knight confronted a powerful witch. Magic spells were flung at the knight with great detail, and the knight’s cleverness in evading the attacks or rendering them null with her own innate skills or magic items filled out the page. Alex began skimming the explanations, she wouldn’t get anything out of it without reading the whole story. Eventually, the knight overcame the witch through some long-form trickery and pinned her against a wall.
Then the witch began to weep. She cried in pain, lightly wounded by the knight’s attacks, begging the knight to explain why she had abandoned her and why she had only returned now to hurt her, why she had taken the side of the knights who had wronged them. Alex’s interest was piqued but they were also recounting pages and pages of Witch backstory that referenced other previous Witch backstory and Alex just could not keep up with it without having read everything.
Skimming ahead a bit more– then she hit a page with something odd.
She skimmed back a few paragraphs to try to confirm what was happening.
The Knight, having heard the entreaties of the Witch, responded.
“I am impoverished in verbal expression, but I will make my true self known to you with deed instead of word. I brought you low in battle solely so I could open you to my real feelings.”
She grabbed hold of the Witch’s head with one hand and kissed her strongly.
Her other hand grabbed hold of the Witch’s groin, fingers entering her slick folds–
That was quite enough.
Alex turned back around, laughing through her teeth at Fernanda.
She tapped her fingers on the tablet. “So, hey, about this human emotional experience–”
“Parlay!” Fernanda cried out, flustered. Her face was beet-red. It was actually– cute?
“Return the device to me, and we can discuss terms to seal your lips about this matter.”
Fernanda was extremely serious. She really looked concerned Alex would expose her.
“I’m just making fun; I’m not gonna tell anyone! You don’t have to be so stuck up.”
Alex handed over the tablet and sighed openly.
Fernanda looked to be her age, but clearly there was something odd going on upstairs. She had heard Fern was an incredible shot who scored kills with secondary guns at the battle of Thassalid. Like everyone on the Brigand, she was competent at her station. And like everyone at the Brigand, she was an eccentric.
An eccentric genius, with a terrible laugh that juxtaposed her fairy-like, demure beauty.
Maybe that was a way to look at her if Alex was feeling charitable.
Feeling exhausted, the resident gamer turned back around and returned to her station.
At her side, Fernanda put down her tablet and tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.
A socially depleted Alex turned a tired expression to Fernanda. “What’s up now?”
“How shall I say this– I am willing to acquiesce to the truce you proposed earlier.”
She stretched out a hand.
Alex thought of doing something quirky like laying a kiss on it.
Instead, she just shook her hand. But she couldn’t help trying to get the last word.
“Maybe I’ll even learn to ignore that harpy-like shrieking you get up to every so often.”
Of course, Fernanda would not take that lying down either.
“It is your sole good fortune that I am indebted to you and in a good mood, gamer.”
So much for a truce! Both of them were just catty bitches by nature, Alex realized.
As the night shift dragged on, however, the two of them were able to keep the peace.
“You definitely play roleplaying games.” Alex said. “You look like an RPer to me.”
Fernanda turned her cheek. “Do not push your luck, gamer, or I might hex you.”
A small semblance of peace, at least.
As much peace as anyone who agreed to this insane mission could hope for.
What was it like to live on a ship?
Moribund in the Ocean with a terrifyingly, overwhelmingly massive mission?
Surely, the nature of the Brigand’s mission must have weighed on everyone’s minds; and yet, there was one woman, for whom it must have been a burden, who slept soundly. She had a dreamless sleep, and when the clock decided that day had come, in lieu of an alarm, a soft, almost mournful voice sang through her room. It was a woman’s voice, singing about lost love and opportunities missed in a rich, deep voice.
Gently and comfortably, this sumptuous voice lifted the owner of the room out of sleep.
Life on a ship did not preclude such little pleasures.
Everything was digital, after all.
Captain Ulyana Korabiskaya sat up gently in her bed. She reached out to the wall and where her fingers touched, a keypad manifested. She executed a command to shut the music off. Everything was a little more difficult on a ship than it was on a station, due to all the high security. However, this was perhaps the most graceful awakening the Captain had in her bed in months. On any other day she might have been nursing a hangover. That morning, she was perfectly sober.
No headache, no nausea, no acid in her throat.
“You’re such a mess, Yana. When you’re clean, you just think about being drunk.”
She chided herself, took a deep breath, and stood up from her bed.
In her mind, she bounced around her duties for the day as she buttoned up her shirt and patted down her skirt; as she did her tie and collected her blond hair into a neat, professional bun; as she donned the teal jacket with the fake logo for the fake company she was pretending to work for.
She thought, briefly, of wearing the jacket off shoulder. She was proud of the lean, strong curve of her shoulders. She had let herself go a bit from her peak, but she was still pretty fit overall, and those shoulders were a gift from God that even a poor workout regime wouldn’t take from her.
“No, no. I’m the Captain. I should keep it regulation.”
Yana pulled her jacket back over her shoulders. She did keep it unzipped.
She dabbed on some red lipstick and a bit of concealer for a mature, feminine touch.
Then she set out for the bridge.
Everyone was counting on her to be the center, the rock of stability. No mission was easy.
Every ship was always in danger. At all times, the Ocean around that ship was trying to crush it, the life-giving oxygen within the ship threatened to escape, food dwindled away, precious energy was lost, and enemies moved invisibly within the distant waters. If one truly wanted to live in unending anxiety, one could. There were all sorts of things one could worry about. This was why even the Captain could so easily set aside the enormity of her mission and simply carry out her tasks and responsibilities. Fomenting rebellion in the Empire was ultimately no grander an endeavor than living under the Ocean, where humanity was unwelcome. She got over that enormity, the same way she got over staring at the oxygen meters.
So, what was left, was the routine, and keeping in mind the things she needed to do.
Her head swam with maps, diagrams of fleet strategy, a list of ship duties to check up on.
Out in the halls of the ship, there were always a few people around, coming and going. When Yana exited her room, she found herself confronted with a panel bolted off, exposing the wiring and tubing that ran through every wall of the ship. There were a pair of sailors in protective gear digging into the cabling with a woman overlooking their work. They had several instruments with them for a purpose the Captain could not immediately discern, so she smiled and approached.
“Good morning, Chief Lebedova. Anything interesting?”
Yana addressed the woman standing with the two sailors. She half-turned her head when spoken to, smiled, and saluted when she noticed it was the Captain speaking to her. “Good morning Captain. Just a routine checkup, voltages, and water pressure and all that. Nothing to worry about.”
“I assumed so, but it’s curious to see the Chief Technician overseeing work personally.”
“I do have more technical things I could be doing, but when it’s early days like this, I like to watch my boys and girls working.” Lebedova said. “I’ve been to a lot of workgroups today already. I want them to know I’m a resource for them and that I’m available to help with any task.”
Chief Galina Lebedova crossed her arms with a delighted expression, looking at the working sailors in front of them. Yana had met her in full uniform before the voyage and thought she seemed a bit unassuming for a chief mechanic. She expected a rough taskmaster, but found a round-faced, soft-cheeked woman in a pristine skirt uniform, mature, tidy, and fairly soft spoken.
Now that she was on duty, she really blew Yana’s stereotypical preconceptions away.
She was dressed primarily in padded coveralls worn over a black bodysuit, with a utility belt around her hips with a host of common tools and a pair of fastening loops from which a metal welding mask and a gas mask hung at her sides. However, she wore the coveralls to the waist with the sleeves tied around her belly since she was not directly involved in rough work at that time. This exposed her upper body, and especially the definition of her shoulders, back and arms, and the ampleness of her chest– while she was no Akulantova, she clearly worked out at least half as much as the Security Chief did.
Certainly, she hit the gym more often than Yana ever had.
“On duty” Lebedova wore a bit of red lipstick and concealer just as Yana had, but in that sense looked more improvised than when they had previously met. She was a bit shorter than Yana, which was convenient for someone who had to squeeze into small spaces at times. Her long, black hair had blue streaks, and she tied it into an elegant braid behind the back of her head. That much was unchanged.
On the whole, she looked like the second strongest woman that Yana had met.
Yana tried to conceal her admiration but still gave Lebedova a bit of praise.
“I see. It sounds like our ship is in really good hands.”
“I’m flattered, Captain.”
She turned a lovely smile and laughed out loud with Yana.
Despite their conversation, the two sailors with them were diligent and did not allow themselves to be distracted. With the chief watching, they were a little tense, and really making sure to document everything, take no shortcuts, and do everything exactly by the book. Or at least, their stance and the way they whispered to each other gave Yana that sort of impression.
That’s a good mentality– to be a resource for your crew.
Yana had to give it to Chief Lebedova, they were the same age, but she had such a confident maturity to her. She supposed this was the kind of strength one built by remaining in the world of the sailors, rather than the pampered confines of the Bridge crew. Roughly two thirds of the crew of any ship was composed of sailors, and while they did none of the fighting, they were the lifeblood of the ship. Sailors maintained and repaired the ship, and there was a lot of ship to maintain and repair. They routinely crawled into the guts of the ship that an officer rarely ever saw.
“What is your impression of the ship so far, Chief?” Yana asked Lebedova.
For people like the Chief Technician and the Chief of Security, as well as the Chief Reactor Engineer and other such positions, despite them ranking below the Captain, everyone was used to calling them ‘Chief’, even the Captain. Lebedova was technically a Senior Specialist, but everyone knew her as the ‘Chief’ of her broader technical area. That was the sort of respect she had earned.
“It’s a very curious vessel.” Lebedova replied. “It almost feels generational, in a sense, like you can dig into the cabling and find the layers an archeologist would in cored rock. I did hear that it was built over the past decade. Some of the instruments are so brand new they have no regulation and some look like they slapped together a bunch of parts that got surplused out to a station plaza.”
“Well, I really hope the latter aren’t very important.” Yana said, giggling a bit.
Lebedova responded with a little grin. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep everything running.”
She winked. Yana really hoped it wasn’t the guns or anything like that.
“You have a meeting with that girl, Zachikova, to discuss that matter today, right?” Lebedova asked.
“Oh, yes. Has she spoken with you?”
“Spoken? It was practically an interrogation. That Zachikova is relentless. A very scary girl.”
Yana had given the Electronic Warfare officer, Zachikova, a special mission to look for more eccentricities in the ship design and catalog everything. After Helmsman Kamarik found extra thrusters on the ship, and Torpedo Officer Geninov complained about the layout of the torpedo tubes, Yana wanted to get far ahead of any other curious bits of the Brigand’s design.
“I did get the feeling she might get carried away.” She said.
“I survived it. I think she will have a lot to report back to you. Don’t keep her waiting.”
Lebedova turned back to the sailors and bent close over them to look at their work.
Yana took this as a good opportunity to make her way to the bridge and continue her day.
Along the way, she just happened to meet the person whom she ranked as the strongest woman she had ever seen. Chief Akulantova came walking down the hall to the bridge just as Yana was coming up to it. As always the Chief of Security was wearing her long coat, her baton and grenade launcher clipped to her pants. She never wore a hat, likely because of the fin-like cartilage on her head. Her hair was very smooth and shiny. She might have come back from a shower, or maybe she just took better care of it than Yana realized.
When she saw the Captain, she smiled and waved from afar.
“Good morning, Captain!”
They paused briefly upon crossing paths.
“You know, I always seem to see you on rounds. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“I’m fine! Fit as a white shark. Do I look tired? See, when my eyelids are like this–”
Akulantova pointed at her face. By all accounts she had a perfectly normal profile for a woman, but her eyes had a second set of thin lids. When the Captain looked at her as prompted, she closed them. It looked like her eyes were open but covered in translucent gray plastic for a moment.
“–I can sleepwalk my rounds! It’s a secret Pelagis trick and why we never get tired.”
Yana blinked at her. “Wait, really?”
“Of course not! You should look us up on an encyclopedia sometime!”
Akulantova burst out laughing.
“I’m in almost all respects a perfectly ordinary woman, Captain! How silly of you!”
“Fine, I walked into that one.” Yana sighed. “But then, are you sleeping enough?”
“I’m a bit of an insomniac, but trust me, if that becomes a problem, I’ll deal with it.”
The Pelagis crossed her well-muscled arms in front of her chest with pride.
“I will trust you, but please take care of yourself.” Yana reached out and patted Akulantova on the shoulder. “Not just if there’s a problem, but because you deserve rest like anyone else.”
“Well said! You’re quite right. I will keep that in mind; I suppose I’ll go on break then.”
From her coat, Akulantova withdrew a little tablet computer. It looked like a book reader. She raised the tablet to the Captain, as if to say ‘See? I’m going on break’. Then she went on her way, beaming and whistling, into the Security office. Presumably, Yana hoped, to rest a little bit.
“She is a pretty gentle soul, all things considered.”
Everyone on the Brigand was really such a hard worker. Yana hardly ever saw a Chief of Security patrolling all the time along with her staff on any of the ships served before. She hardly ever saw a Chief Technician running around either. She felt inspired to do her own part too.
Finally, after what already felt like an eventful morning, Ulyana made it to the bridge.
As soon as she went through the door, she found Commissar Aaliyah Bashara coming out.
Aaliyah nearly bumped into her, but she recovered with remarkable alacrity.
Her ears rose just a little straighter, and her tail stuck out.
For a moment, Yana saw herself in those bright orange eyes as they held contact.
“Captain on bridge! Attention all stations!”
Aaliyah turned from the door to face the main screen and the stations.
Yana waved at everyone on the bridge with a smile. “Good morning everyone! At ease!”
There were a few officers joining her on the bridge that morning.
There was Helmsman Abdulalim Kamarik, always punctual and engaged in his work as he made tiny corrections to the heading and engine power. Communications Officer Natalia Semyonova welcomed Ulyana to the bridge with a big, shining smile. Fatima al-Suhar stood sentinel on the sonar station, her headphones firmly on her fluffy, cat-like ears and actively immersed in the sounds of the ocean. Both of the main combat stations were empty. Ulyana had assigned Alexandra Geninov and Fernanda Santapena-de la Rosa to the late night shift. Both of them had earned a few extra hours of rest that morning.
Ulyana took her place in the Captain’s chair. Every day, she started official Captain business by checking the computer attached to her chair and bringing up the Bridge logs, a simple dashboard with records of every officer’s work. They could bring specific things to her attention from their stations or simply leave it to the Captain herself to look through the logs. Ulyana liked to look at both, checking the pins but at least skimming over the logs also. Because it was early on in their voyage and they were still in calm waters, there was nothing notable. Semyonova had not received any communications and al-Suhar had not reported anything. Kamarik’s log had coordinates for where the Brigand was traveling and logged energy usage and speeds.
After checking the logs, she looked at her own itinerary.
She had one meeting later with Zachikova and a few others, and she had made time to visit the lab and the reactor. Then she would return to the bridge, sit in the big chair, talk to the officers, take her meals. When a Captain was not giving orders, she had to remain available. Emergencies were never pinned on her itinerary. Her priority was to be responsible, and to be responsible she had to be aware and on top of things.
She realized at that point, looking at the clock, that she had failed to be available on time.
“I was about to go find you, you know.” Aaliyah said.
“I stopped along the way to meet a few people. I’ll be here at 0900 sharp next time.”
The Commissar took her place next to the Captain. When Yana started smelling the minty scent coming off Aaliyah’s hair, she began to realize just how close the seats were. She could have easily wrapped her arm around Aaliyah’s shoulder or touched her ears — if she wanted to invite a slap across the face.
Had Nagavanshi sat this close to her on Ulyana’s previous ships? Yana had a cool head, but it flustered her ever so slightly to have this specific Commissar seated so close.
“Communication is key, Captain. I will always gladly hold down the Bridge for you if you need it, but you must actually let me know. You have a direct line to me for that purpose. And our rooms are right next to each other.” Aaliyah did not sound offended, but she was stern as usual.
“It all happened rather spontaneously. But I’ll keep what you’re saying in mind.”
“You could do with being a little less spontaneous.”
That was not fair. Ulyana had been doing her very best to schedule everything.
She did not say anything back, however. No use trying to get the last word on Aaliyah.
“Kamarik, where are we now, and where are we headed?” Yana asked.
Below her, the Helmsman drew back from his station, turning in his chair to face her.
“We’re currently crossing the demilitarized zone at Cascabel to get through to Sverland and Imperial waters. It’s a popular spot for smugglers, I hear; insanely rocky terrain, real rough, plenty of cover from Imperial patrols. If you’re on my level, you can weave a dreadnought through here though. Pull it up on the main screen, you’ll see nothing but rocks for kilometers, Captain.”
“But there are no patrols right now. In fact, the Union’s moving to occupy Cascabel.”
Aaliyah added a bit of additional context. She put on a serious expression and continued.
“Do you know the history of Sverland, Captain?”
“I know some, at least, I know what I lived through myself. Lyser, Ferris and Campos were the most productive colonies in the Nectaris, while Sverland and Solstice essentially served as Imperial management and logistics hubs and Imperial military bases. When the productive colonies revolted, they put the Imperial hubs on a clock. Sverland went through a famine after the revolution because they relied heavily on food from Lyser. They went from princes to paupers.”
Ulyana did not often go back to those times.
It had felt like living in another world entirely; but it was an indelible fact of her life that she had fought in the revolution. She was sixteen when the call to action went out. She joined the revolutionary infantry and even piloted a Diver. Her first act of war had been to ambush and stab to death two guards at Sevastopol Station, which was once essentially a prison for mine workers. She put a screwdriver with a rounded head through a man’s eyes. All the abuse she suffered, all the killing she did– she truly didn’t want to remember it.
“That’s right, but do you know what happened after the revolution?” Aaliyah asked.
“There was a huge exodus of Imbrians from the Union territories to Sverland.” Ulyana said. This was still tapping into her own memories. She was not much of a historian — she truly was not fully aware of what the accepted historical narrative had become. “The Imbrians were the managerial class; they didn’t get along with the Volgians, Shimii and the dark-skinned North Bosporan workers. Some of them we actually exiled, but many ran away as if they feared us lynching them.”
Aaliyah nodded. “Union leadership in the ensuing years believed that the exodus would lead to a rebuilding of Sverland as an Imperial fort. So, our border here always felt very tenuous.”
“It ended up not being much of a problem in the end, right?” Yana said, a bit too glibly.
“Well, it was fine thanks to people like Murati Nakara and no thanks to you.” Aaliyah said.
Ouch. Yana simply bit that one down. It was true. She’d chickened out of Thassalid Trench.
“It became an accepted orthodoxy that the Empire had a powerful standing border force, larger than the fleet that counterattacked during the Revolution. With any standing fleet, the challenge is being able to supply them enough to maintain readiness. We believed the Empire capable of supporting a huge fleet in Sverland. We could only have a small border force in Ferris.”
Aaliyah looked to the Captain to continue the conversation. Yana was nearing her limit.
“Right.” Yana said. “That’s logical. Our stations used to be prison factories, not big plentiful cities.”
“Recently we’ve been able to interrogate Imperial soldiers and found that the Cascabel border is not as impregnable as we believed. Sverland’s readiness has fallen dramatically as the Empire refocused on fighting the Republic.” Aaliyah said. “Aside from remnants of the Imperial logistics train, the battle at Thassalid wiped out the combat power of the Cascabel border. There was not going to be a second wave from Sverland. So, HQ decided to extend Ferris’ patrols over the demilitarized zone before the Brigand set out.”
Ulyana whistled. Aaliyah really knew her stuff from working in security and intelligence.
“So that means we’re still in calm waters, basically.” Yana said. “We should probably not expect a ready force of warships that could counter us until we’re deeper into Sverland. If I had to take a guess, probably Serrano would be the next hub capable of supporting one. Am I correct?”
Yana smiled at Aaliyah, who in turn nodded her head and returned a little smile of her own.
“I think you’re right, Captain.” Aaliyah said. “We should always be alert, of course.”
“Whether or not there’s patrols out there is irrelevant, because we’re not getting seen.”
Kamarik bragged and returned to his station, continuing to monitor the ship’s movement.
“Aaliyah, could I trouble you with something?”
For a Captain, part of being a resource to others, was knowing how to use others as well.
Aaliyah’s cat-like ears perked up. She nodded her head. “I am at your disposal, of course.”
“Could you prepare situation reports for me? I like the way you explain things. I think I would be better informed if I discussed such matters with you. I give you full authorization for it.”
Captain Korabiskaya put on a cheerful face for her Commissar as she made her request.
Aaliyah looked like she was surprised to be receiving praise. Her cheeks reddened a bit.
“I can do that. It’s not unheard of. I assume Nagavanshi once did this for you?”
“For me? Nagavanshi? Hah! She did compile reports, but not because I asked her, and not for my benefit.”
Aaliyah’s tail curled. She looked a bit mystified at that response.