Chapter Four Hundred and Thirteen - Captain's Duty

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Caprica said when I first hinted at the race.

“I think it sounds fun,” Calamity said. “But it’s also not my kind of thing. Sorry Bunch.” He shrugged, then went back to resting his feet on the table.

We were in the Beaver’s dining room, having a quick lunch. Amaryllis was finishing up negotiations with Farrell and his dwarven friend, and we were waiting for the fuel to arrive. It would be awhile, so we had nothing better to do than wait.

At the rate things were going at, it was unlikely that we’d be leaving until sometime in the morning. Not unless we planned on flying out of the city at night, which was probably a terrible idea.

Visibility around an airship, especially above and below, wasn’t great at the best of times. Airships were amazing, but they didn't have the tools that plans had on Earth. No radar, GPS, or altitude metres to make night flying even a little safe. Flying low at night was extremely risky, and Smoulderglen's busy skies made it even worse.

I crossed my arms and allowed myself to pout a little. “But it sounds so fun,” I complained.

“Yes, but it’s a needless risk, will slow us down while we participate, and judging by the reputation this city has, it might end up giving us enemies that we don’t need,” Caprica said. “And all that for what? Some prize money? It’s not worth it, Broccoli.”

She was probably right. But I wasn’t thinking so much about the prize money as I was about the fun we’d have. Heck, with so little time to prepare, I doubted we could win.

Caprica might have caught on to my mood, because she pushed an open box my way. It was filled with little hard candies packed full of sugar. Mostly as a way to supplement her sylph diet, but they did taste very good.

I took one and popped it into my mouth. Well, if we couldn’t race, we couldn’t race, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

That’s about when Awen stepped into the room, hands rubbing together with a damp cloth between them to get rid of a grease stain. “Hey, Broc, can you...”

“Oh? Yeah, sure,” I said as I let some Cleaning magic fly her way, scouring off the grease and oil and whatever else she had sticking to her hands.

Awen sighed and nodded to me in thanks before sitting down hard. “Thanks,” she said. “What’s everyone talking about?”

“Racing,” Calamity said. He’d pulled out a book. An atlas, from the captain’s quarters. It was a book I’d only briefly glanced through, but Calamity had been reading it for a little bit. I think he was mostly just interested in the accounts of foreign food.

Awen blinked. Then she looked down at the table for a moment before glancing at me. “Broccoli, can we talk?”

“Of course,” I said. “Um, you mean in private?”

She nodded, then left the room.

“You’re in trouble,” Calamity said in a low, sing-song murmur.

I doubted I was in trouble. But maybe Awen was? Did something bad happen? If so, then maybe it was best that I didn’t mess around too much and went to help Awen. I jumped to my feet and followed her into the corridor. “I’ll be right back,” I told the others. “Then maybe we can start on lunch?”

I found Awen waiting by the door to her room, she stepped back so that I could follow her in, then she stood there, looking like she didn’t know what to do with her hands and just... didn’t say anything for a while.

So I gave her a hug, because hugs could help sometimes. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked while tilting my head to press into hers.

“Ah,” Awen said. “I don’t want to make you angry.”

I gave her an extra nice squeeze. “Don’t be silly. There’s not much you could tell me that would ever make me angry. Especially not at you. Is something wrong with the Beaver? Do we need to fix something?”

Awen shook her head, and carefully, and maybe a little reluctantly, pulled out of the hug. “No, nothing’s wrong with the ship. I’m making sure of that. And, I guess that’s the problem?”

“I... don’t understand,” I said. “Can you explain?”

Awen nodded, then she went back to her cot and sat hard on the edge of it.

Her room was... a bit of a huge mess. There were tools all over, and some spare parts, and lots of books about this and that. Mostly mechanics related stuff. She’d been picking up a book on the subject up here and there, and now she had a tidy... or untidy, little collection.

My Cleaning magic kept the rooms dust and stain free, and no one seemed to mind not having to clean as much, but it didn’t do anything for organising. That was all on Awen in here. Which was ironic, since she was the one who warned us most often about not leaving leaving loose things around where they could be thrown about by a hard maneuver.

“It’s my work,” Awen said. “Fixing things? I love it. It’s literally what I dreamed of. More than what I dreamed of, really. I often wondered what it would be like to sneak off and join some cargo ship’s crew, maybe pretend I was a boy and definitely not nobility, then just... work until I was respected.”

“Okay,” I said. She was clearly building up to something, and I wanted her to know that I was listening with all four ears.

“And... yeah. But it’s a lot of work.”

She paused for a long time, and I decided to fill the silence in, just a little. “Is it too much?” I asked. “Did you need a break?”

Awen shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s... earlier, you asked about turning the Redemption into something faster, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “There’s a big race here, in Smoulderglen. But the others talked me out of it.”

“Oh,” she said, and I could almost see the wind deflating out of her sails. “I’m sorry. Nevermind then. I’m just wasting your time. Sorry.”

I went and sat next to her, then gave her a side hug, which was also very nice because it put my arm in the optimal position for back rubs. The trick was big, slow circles. “Don’t say sorry. I don’t even know what you’re saying sorry for. What is it? I promise I won’t be mad.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Awen chewed on her lip for a moment, then she continued. “I do a lot of work on the Beaver. There’s daily maintenance, then the bigger things that need to be looked after. The engines, the sails, all the rigging, the rudder and its mechanisms. It’s a lot. A ship of this size should have a crew about twice as big as what we have, you know? When we left, with just you, me, Amaryllis, and Clive and the two boys, that was the bare, bare minimum. One mechanic can keep the Beaver flying forever, but it’s a full time job.”

I nodded. “Have we been unfair to you?” I asked.

A full time job, for a full time mechanic, and that was probably a full time mechanic with years of experience. Awen didn’t have that, not yet. And while I firmly believed that she was special, and incredible--she was my friend, so of course she was--that didn’t mean that she had so much talent that it trumped years of experience.

“We’ve been giving you a lot of work, haven’t we?” I said, my voice a lot lower and less happy than usual, because it was true. I’d kind of just... assumed that Awen would take care of all the problems on the Beaver the same way that I assumed that Amaryllis would take care of the money stuff and that I’d take care of the cleaning.

But we’d never really sat down and discussed who would do what. We’d never even tried to reward anyone for their work. Not just pay, but... more than that.

I felt my ears wilting and I let out a long sigh. “We haven’t been good friends. I haven’t been a good friend.”

“What? No,” Awen said.

I shook my head. “No, it’s true. I’m the captain, so it’s my job to make sure that things are going right, and I’ve let you down in a big, yucky way. I’m sorry, Awen,” I said. “But... yeah, let’s make things better? I don’t want you to feel underappreciated. You’re the best, and one day you’ll be the greatest mechanic ever, and people will sing songs about you and you’ll have invented the coolest stuff. So... tell me what I can do to help? And don’t say ‘nothing,’ I know I could have helped more than I have.”

Awen leaned back for a moment, then she glanced down, but she was smiling a little, and her cheeks were rosy at the compliments. “I don’t want to cause a fuss,” she said. “I don’t want it to be a big thing.”

“It is a big thing. Your feelings and your happiness is a big thing to me. Always.”

Awen’s little smile got a bit bigger, and she leaned in closer to me, so I wrapped my other arm around her in a two-armed side-hug, which was a very advanced sort of hug.

“I just, awa, I just want you to understand that sometimes, things aren’t as easy as they look, I guess. Fixing things is hard. Maintaining them is easier, but not all of the time. And when I do everything just right, it looks like nothing happened at all. When you asked to turn the Redemption into something faster, that’s a lot of work. Like, a lot a lot.”

“Oh,” I said. I squeezed her a bit tighter so that maybe the pit in my stomach would go away. “I’m sorry. Do you still want to continue? We can hire someone, maybe. Or get you some help. Or train one of the Scallywags to be your assistant, or maybe we can each do some of the maintenance?”

Awen shook her head. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with the Beaver’s maintenance,” she said. “And I still love what I do. I just... I don’t know.”

"I think I get it," I said. "My guess is that you're feeling underappreciated. Does that sound about right?"

"Awa, um, I don't really think ... well ..." Awen hedged, but her eyes wouldn't meet mine.

"Then, can you describe what you are feeling?" I asked.

"Uh ..." she looked lost for a moment. "Awa ... okay. As I said, the Beaver takes a lot of work. Which I do. And I ... suppose the rest of the crew doesn't really seem to notice? Except for Clive, I think."

Clive had served on airships a long time, so he probably had a rough idea of how much effort Awen needed to put in. That made sense.

"And, well, I guess that ... not acknowledging my work is ... underappreciation," she decided.

It hurt to have her say it like that. But I think it was the kind of hurt I needed.

The silence stretched on for a minute. "Awen," I finally said, "I don't know how we'll learn to appreciate you more but I’ll be sure to do it. We’ll be appreciating you so much, you won’t know where to put all the appreciation you’re getting.”

Awen giggled as I started swaying from side to side, turning the hug into a rocking hug. “Thanks, Broc, I appreciate that.”

I giggled right back, then dropped my head onto her shoulder. I’d been a less-than-great friend, but I was sure that I could do better. Maybe I could set something up so that everyone pulled their weight, and saw how hard Awen was working too.

Just as I was about to consider ending the hug, the door to Awen’s room opened up a smidge, Amaryllis popped her head in. “Broccoli, Awen, there you are.”

“Hey,” I said. “Is something up?”

Amaryllis nodded. “Yes, something very much is. You’ve heard of that ridiculous race?” The last was aimed squarely at me.

“Yup. But we’re not participating. It’s not a good idea, and Awen’s working hard to keep the Beaver in one piece, I don’t think we could ask her to help us with racing anything.”

“Of course we’re not participating, are you mad? The prize is a pittance and the race is only popular to a select few outside of the region. But I did get a list of participating ships from Ferrell.”

“He gave you a list?” I asked.

She glanced away. “He might have had it in his office, and I might have temporarily requisitioned it. It doesn’t matter, look at this.”

She handed something over, a page, with the name of the race, a small map of the circuit, and at the bottom, a list of the airships participating in it.

One immediately caught my eye. The Shady Lady.

“Wait! Awen, that’s...”

“That’s Uncle’s ship!” Awen shouted.

***