My blade, razor sharp and balanced to perfection, clattered against the ground and lay there, lifeless. I clutched my wrist and grimaced as a thin trail of scarlet blood ran down my arm. I’d made the mistake of underestimating my foe, and this wound was my penance. What was I to do? This was only the eighth of many, and far fiercer adversaries awaited me. I grimaced and grabbed my blade from the ground. “

You’re a fool if you think I’ll be defeated so easily!” I hissed.

“Do you have to be so dramatic?” asked Sherri. She was leaning against some stacked crates and flipping through a worn cookbook.

“I’m not going to get through this if I don’t treat it like a battle!” I said. I glared at the potato in front of me and crossed my arms. “Can you bring me a bandage? I cut my finger again.”

“Again? Ah, that’s the third time! You can’t treat a kitchen knife like its Bravesreign, you know! You have to be precise with it!” she said. She sounded more worried than upset, like a mother scolding her child for injuring themself. “I’ll go ask Doctor Heize for another.” She set down the book and dashed out of the room in a hurry.

I sighed and patted down my apron. The four walls around me, The Escallion’s galley, would be my cage for the rest of the afternoon as I prepared a special “Darnini Dinner” for the crew. The captain had given me special leave from my normal duties while I did it and was making Ufie act as stewardess in my stead. According to Sherri, Ufie was livid beyond words and stomping around like her feet were made of lead. I don’t think I mentioned it before, but outside of food delivery I was also responsible for straightening up the bridge, cleaning the women’s cabin, doling out snacks, folding laundry, and guarding the key to Captain Kastel’s wine cask.

Speaking of the galley, it was big and pretty well equipped. At the far end was a huge stove that usually had two deep, wide cauldrons on top bubbling and burbling away. Next to the stove was a wash basin full of serving trays. In the center was a long wooden table where the meat, vegetables, and the occasional fruit were prepared. Opposite the stove, near the door to the mess hall, were stacked crates full of provisions. As I said before, there was a counter built into the wall that separated the galley from the mess hall. On the back wall was another counter, this one jutting from the wall, that had jars of spices and assorted pickled stuff resting on it. Above the counter were the racks for the knives, pots, and pans, and below it were barrels of cooking oil, vinegar, and distilled brine.

I set down my knife and went over to the stove. I lifted the left cauldron’s lid and set it back down aimlessly. The cook had been kind enough to leave some broth and brine going for me before I came in, but I had no idea what to do with it. Should I make a stew? The cookbook made it sound simple enough. Soften the dried meats in the brine, then stuff it and whatever else you want into the broth and let it simmer for a few hours. I shook my head and clapped my cheeks. No. A plain old stew would never meet everyone’s expectations! I had to make something fancy!

I crossed the room and grabbed the cookbook Sherri had been flipping through. It was titled The Galleymaster’s Gourmet and had a silly picture of the ship’s cook scribbled on the front. The picture looked nothing like him though, as it had sparkling eyes, a beautiful face, and a bunch of flowers floating around him. I flipped through it quickly, taking in nothing more than the title and number of steps for each recipe. Stuffed balehorn steak? Too complicated. Fried fish fillets? I’d burn down the ship. Picklemash Surprise? Sounds gross. I kept flipping and stopped on a page labeled “Seaman’s Stroganoff”. I skimmed over the recipe and felt my heart soar to the sky. That was it! My Darnini Dinner! It was so simple that even I couldn’t mess it up! I set the book down confidently, then jumped out of my boots in fright as Sherri burst through the door with a roll of white bandages and a pair of scissors.

“Darni, I’m back! Doctor Heize told me to take a whole roll since you keep hurting yourself. It was a little weird though. He got on his knees when he offered it to me,” she said as she tugged on the bandage roll. “Oh, did you decide on what to make?”

I puffed out my chest and pointed right at her face. “I you bet I did! I’m going to make a dinner so delicious they’ll never forget it!” Without saying anything, she expertly wrapped my finger with a strip of thin bandage and smiled. “Thanks . . .” I said sheepishly.

After that, I got to work preparing the rest of the ingredients. I’d need a bunch of meat cut into thin strips, sliced onions, chopped potatoes, diced tomatoes, mushrooms, flour, rice, salt, pepper, and . . . milk. I scratched my head and looked around the galley. Did they even stock milk on ships? I’d assume it’d go sour way before you had the chance to use it.

“Hey, do you see any milk around here?” I asked Sherri.

“Nuh-uh,” she said in a muffled voice. I looked over and saw she was happily chomping on a huge onion.

“I guess I’ll have to use water instead,” I said with a shrug.

Chopping the rest of the vegetables became a breeze once I figured things out. Laying them down on the board and cutting them like normal would only lead to more injuries, so I decided to toss them into the air and slice them as they fell instead. Once the vegetable piles had reached a sufficient level of enormousness, I laid out a second broad cutting board for the meat. I grabbed a couple of dried beefalo steaks from a crate and threw them in the cauldron of hot broth. I’d seen the cook do it a few times between deliveries, so I just mimicked what he did. I even made sure to grumble as I did it.

It took them almost an hour to soften from rock-hard to fleshy, but once they were ready, I slapped them down on the board and raised my knife. That’s when the hesitation grabbed me. Why had I been wasting my time using some paltry kitchen knife when I had the greatest blade to ever grace Loros’ Light at my disposal? I made it halfway across the galley before I remembered I didn’t have the space to swing Bravesreign around effectively. I clenched my fist and stared at it, fire in my soul. I would find a chance to use Bravesreign on the ship. Eventually. Hopefully. Anyway, I cut the meat into little strips.

I tossed everything I’d prepared into the cauldron of broth, then poured a bunch of wheat flour on top and mixed it together. Next, I dumped a bag of dry rice into the cauldron of brine and let it sit. According to the recipe, I just had to wait for the broth to thicken and for the rice to puff up. I sighed and leaned on the mess hall counter. It’d be at least an hour until it was all ready.

“Slacking off, are you?” came a nasally voice. I looked up and saw Doctor Heize adjusting his glasses. He had an annoying little smirk that told me he wasn’t here just to say hi. “I hope this isn’t foreshadowing the quality of our dinner.” He leaned against the counter and wiggled his left shoulder. He was wearing a green headband with the word SHIC stitched onto it. I refused to ask about it. Doing so would be falling for his trap.

“Thanks for the bandages,” I said flatly. “And for your information, the food is cooking as we speak.” I motioned over towards the cauldrons. “Give it an hour and you’ll be chowing down on the most delicious meal of your life!”

“Oh ho, big talk for someone that cuts her fingers chopping potatoes,” he said condescendingly. I’d have punched his lights out if he hadn’t been the ship’s doctor. He was a weirdo, but without that concoction of his I’d be rolling around in my hammock begging Loros to settle my stomach.

“Did you need something or did you just come here to laugh at me?” I asked.

He grinned ear to ear and wiggled his shoulder again. “I’ve come to inform you that, while we shall partake of your meal, I and the rest of SHIC will not be present for your little concert. If you’re curious as to what SHIC is I ca—”

“Concert?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

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He rose from the counter and crossed his arms. “Don’t play coy. You promised to prepare dinner and sing a song just yesterday. I refuse to believe that you’ve forgotten! As leader and founder of SHIC, I’m wise to your—”

I slammed my hands on the counter. “Ah! I forgot about that!” I shouted. I’d been so focused on cooking that I hadn’t given the song a single thought! I slumped forward and groaned. “What am I going to do . . .”

“You seriously forgot?” He was silent for a moment. “Hehe, just what I’d expect from Darnini. I knew you were nothing more than a lunk-headed girl from the moment we met!” He crossed his arms and looked away. “So ignorant as to miss my signals and assertations! Us SHIC faithful—”

“Fine! I’ll bite! What the heck is SHIC!?” I yelled. Anything to shut him up! I know he came by to annoy me, but he was really laying it on thick!

He pushed up his glasses, which made them glint in the light. “Oh ho! Finally taken notice, have you? SHIC, the Sherri Hanefeltz Idolization Committee!” He swung his arms to his sides and whispered something rapidly under his breath. Suddenly lines of green and purple light shot from his hands and spelled out SHIC above his head. The lines twisted and writhed until they spelled out its full name, then changed to the words “leader and founder” with an arrow pointing down at him. “We originally called ourselves the Sherri Hanefeltz Idolization Troupe but that name proved to be . . . problematic, but I digress!” He pointed at me sidelong and smirked. “You may have the majority of the crew dancing in your palm, but us SHIC faithful are immune to your devilish ways!”

I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side. So Sherri did have a fan club. It made sense. She was the only person aboard who I considered to be equally amazing. If anyone else was going to have people adoring them, it was her. It made me feel relieved, actually. I’d have been flummoxed beyond words if Heize had walked up to me shouting “Darnini, Darnini!” like the others.

“Well, if you want to idolize Sherri, she’s back there,” I said. I pointed at the back corner of the galley. Sherri was sitting cross-legged on the floor and using a crate of onions as a table. She’d grabbed some paper, an inkwell, and a fancy quill from somewhere and started writing intently while I was slicing the meat.

Heize froze in place. “M-Miss Sherri is back— there? And she can hear everything I’m saying?”

I nodded. “Yeah, probably.”

“And she’ll be in attendance of your performance, I assume?”

I nodded again.

Suddenly his glasses became clear, and beneath them I could see a pair of determined yellow eyes. “Then, as the master commandant of SHIC, I must attend your DVAS gathering. For intelligence reasons that is.” He turned on his heel and held his hands behind his back. “Good day to you, Miss Darni Voker. Stop by if you need more medication. We wouldn’t want the ship’s beloved stewardess to be bedridden.” Then he goosestepped out of the mess hall like his pants were too tight.

“What a weirdo!” I said to myself.

“Who’s a weirdo?” asked Sherri, finally looking up from her writing.

“Nobody important.”

An hour later the food was ready. I looked out into the mess hall and winced. Every seat, wall, and open bit of floor was taken up by hungry crew members. Ufie, Jedda, Captain Kastel, and even Nard were all sitting together right in front of the counter and laughing about something. Next to them was Doctor Heize, stone-faced and stiff, and a few other men wearing SHIC headbands. At the far end of the hall was a small, round stage that the three members of carpentry squad one had stopped by to assemble it minutes earlier. Above the stage hung a large banner that read “D-V-A-S WE— ADORE— DARNI-NI!” in thick, rounded letters.

I still didn’t know what I was going to sing.

“Finally done!” cheered Sherri. I turned around to say something and promptly had a piece of paper shoved in my face.

“Hey, back off!” I shouted while flailing my arms. I couldn’t read it if she put it right against my eyes!

“Sorry, I’m just really proud of it!” she drew the paper back and bounced on her heels excitedly.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Your song!”

I blinked twice in bewilderment. “My song?”

“Yeah, the one you’re going to sing! I know you don’t have one in mind, so I wrote one for you!”

I beamed at her. Leave it to Sherri to read me like a book! “Alright, lay it on me!” I said. She set the paper on the counter and waited in anticipation as I scanned it top to bottom. It was goofy, poppy, and just the right kind of shlock for the audience. All-in-all, it was perfect! I grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her tightly. “You just saved my skin!”

“It’s not the first time!” she said with a smile.

“Ha, probably won’t be the last either!”

“Hey, is the grub ready yet?” called a hoarse voice from the mess hall. There was an explosion of heated reprimands from the other crew members. Things like “How dare you rush Darnini!” or “Know your place, you cur!”

I went over to the counter and shouted, “Yeah, it’s ready! First come, first serve! No whining if you don’t get fed!” I turned back to Sherri and clasped my hands. “Help me serve everyone, please?”

She stuck up her thumbs and smiled. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t planning on helping . . . Darnini.” She covered her mouth and giggled, then hurried over to the dish rack.

We doled out the servings at lightning speed. Sherri would take a bowl, plate, or tray, and lay down a bed of rice from the right cauldron, then I’d scoop some thick, gloopy stroganoff from the left cauldron and slap it down on top. To say we were efficient would be an insult. It was more like we were in perfect sync, perfect harmony. Just the two of us assuaging the monstrous hunger of the crew. A grand battle against humanity’s gastric ghouls! Truth be told, I was focusing so hard because I didn’t want to think about singing.

“Whew, that was far better than I expected!” said Captain Kastel. He pulled a toothpick from his pocket and poked at his teeth. He was the last to be served, a choice he’d made on his own.

“Did you think I’d be slinging slop or something?” I said. I was leaning on the counter and propping my legs up on the galley table like I was bridge. There was still some rice and stroganoff left over in the cauldrons, enough for me and Sherri to eat until we passed out.

“Not at all, not at all! I just— I was thinking that, uh—, you might not—”

I frowned at him.

“Maybe you should stop there, Captain,” said Jedda flatly. She took a sip from her glass of wine and sighed.

“Yeah, lay off! A girl’s cooking is her pride!” added Ufie.

Nard crossed her arms and nodded in agreement.

“Gya ha ha, maybe I should! Anywho, isn’t it time for that performance of yours, Darni? I think it’d be the best dessert to round out the night!”

I closed my eyes and grit my teeth. It was time. Either I’d stun everyone with my skills so fiercely that they’d weep with joy, or crumple into a shivering ball from embarrassment. There would be no in-between. I lowered myself from my awkward position and punched my open fist. “It’s go time!” I said to myself.

Then I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. It was Sherri, her lyrics clutched between her fingers. She looked at me sternly, and that look told me everything I needed to know. I took them from her and nodded. If I was going to die of embarrassment, I’d put up the hardest fight I could! I kicked open the galley door and strutted across the mess hall. The sailors, most of them DVAS zealots, whooped and cheered and clapped like their lives depended on it. A chant of “D-V-A-S We— adore— Darni-ni!” echoed through the room. Up onto the stage I climbed.

“I promised you all a song, so here it is!” I said. The crowd howled and clapped until their hands turned red. I lifted the lyric sheet and took a deep breath. The song was called Awaken My Heart and was exactly the kind of energetic mush you’d expect from the name. It went kind of like this:

I’m not the kind of girl that thinks, a-bout love! (about love~)

I’d rather punch you, with my armored glove! (armored glove~)

But when I see you— walking down the street

I can’t help but feel my heart beat!

Swish, slash, swoosh!

You cut my heart to pieces!

Crack, smack, boom!

You pierce me like an arrow!

Clang, bang, crash!

You blow my defenses away!

I don’t know how you did it! (Is it magic? Is it magic?)

I just don’t understand! (How’d you do it? How’d you do it?)

I think I’m going crazy! (Going crazy! Going crazy!)

Why?

Cuz’ you’ve awakened my heart!

La la la la~

You’ve awakened my heart~

La la la la~

You’ve awakened my heart!

It was longer and had more verses, but it’d be way too embarrassing to share any more. If you’re wondering, Sherri ran up next to the stage and sang backup vocals. Anyway, I looked out over the crowd and expected them to throw their bowls and plates at me in rage. I’d have taken it too, since I felt like I’d just put on the worst show in the history of Zaftia. But then the chants began.

““D-V-A-S We— adore— Darni-ni! D-V-A-S We— adore— Darni-ni!” repeated the sailors over and over. Captain Kastel stood up and clapped so hard I thought his hands would fall off. There were huge tears streaming down his cheeks that exploded against the wooden floor. Ufie jumped up and cheered. Jedda clapped politely. Nard raised both thumbs. Even Heize, after all his bluster, gave me a courtesy nod.

I sighed and smiled at Sherri, who was standing to the left of the stage. Her song had proven a hit, but I didn’t want to sing it ever again. I pointed out over the crowd. “I hope you all enjoyed your meal and song, because I’m never doing this for you ever again! Ever! I’m being serious right now! This was a one-time deal!”

Afterwards, Sherri and I ate so much rice and stroganoff that we both passed out and had to be carried to our hammocks. Not to boast or anything, but it was pretty good!