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Chapter 3: An Officerial Mess

"Mornin' Officer."

"Good morning, Officer."

"Morning, Officer!"

The men greeted him kindly as he walked past them and into the mess. He'd slept... not quite well, but not poorly either. It seemed his day of work had counteracted his nerves somewhat, helping him to get some shut-eye. Still, whilst he may have been a little tired he knew he'd be back to work soon enough, and he'd rather not miss out on breakfast all things considered.

"Good morning to you as well."

He did his best to respond to each of them as they passed, but some had already continued on with their day and likely didn't hear him. Ah well, at least most of the crew seemed to be friendly at least. Well, friendlier than they looked, anyway. They still looked like they'd cut him into bits for a pocket of change, but had the good grace not to disrespect a superior. Which was probably why they were all being so polite, to be honest.

He stretched a little as he came to the doors of the mess, glad that the ship seemingly had very lax standards about uniforms. Then again, he was working under engines and boilers anyway, so a pristine uniform probably wouldn't be anything more than a hinderance. He yawned a little before entering the hall, the smells of breakfast washing over him as he looked around. Very quickly his eyes were drawn to one gunnery officer, who was excitedly stood up and waving her arms to get his attention. Judging by the people sat around the table, he assumed that this must be the officer's mess. A familiar face gave him a slight smile as he approached.

"Good morning, Mr Haywood."

"The same to you, Mr Walker."

Talwynn rolled her eyes and gave an over-dramatic sigh.

"God, you two are acting dull. I'll tell you what, if you greet each other this dryly every day for the next five years I'll fire myself out of one of the sixty-eight pounders."

There was some good natured chuckling at that as a young boy carried over a plate of food to him. It felt odd to be the one being served food rather than the one serving the food, but he wasn't about to complain.

"Well Ms Trenholm, I dare say you needn't bother. We could probably fit you in one of the thirty-two pounders instead."

There was another round of light-hearted laughter as the young woman made an obscene gesture at the Sergeant that would have made Archer's mother reach for the nearest shoe or broom and begin chasing the offender with a thunderous scowl, but he found himself laughing alongside the others nonetheless.

"Come now, leave the lass be. She means well, even if she can be a prick sometimes."

Talwynn joined the mirth at that, the words "You're damn well right!" only slightly broken up by her laughter. If every day begins like this then I can't say I'd be disappointed, Archer thought to himself, mirth and a hearty meal seems like a nice combination to start a good workday.

And it was a hearty meal. Bacon and eggs with toast might not have been the greatest of meals, but it was more than sufficient for his purposes. There was tea as well, good and hot so he found, and he was most happy to be offered a cup. He'd been told to expect a lack of bread and fresh meat as they went out to the skies, but also that he didn't need to worry about sharing hard tack or salt beef with the deckhands and 'swabbies'.

"Any word on when we head out?"

Lawrence grumbled a response to the Sergeant, the two men seeming quite disgruntled at the mention of the captain.

"Whenever he wakes up and has his own meal. And when he makes himself ready for the day. Could be in an hour. Could be in four. He might sleep till noon and wait till two to get us moving."

"But won't it take you like... an hour to get the engines warmed up enough to fire?"

Lawrence sighed.

"Probably ninety minutes if we want to avoid a cold start. If the captain demands that we start moving as soon as he says then Mr Haywood and I could get them running in minutes, but the engines require a higher revolutions per minute to get started if we try and run them cold, which won't be good for them."

The man opposite nodded in response, a slight grimace on his face.

"How much more canvas have you got stored away?"

Lawrence halted his movements, a forkful of food halfway between his plate and his mouth as he spoke.

"Enough... why?"

The man coughed a few times and looked away, making some sort of noncommittal noise in response.

"Owen, Why?"

The gunnery officer rolled her eyes again and took over from the far larger man.

"You were busy most of yesterday with that engine, but the captain said he wanted to take us past Terwall Landing and carry on south-east for a few months."

"A few months? Where in Gaul does he want us to end up?"

"He doesn't. We'll be heading straight to Three-Stream from Terwall as the crow flies."

Lawrence swallowed the forkful and reached for another, seemingly taking in the words and trying to work something out. A few minutes of polite conversation later and he stopped mid-action again, seemingly having worked something out.

"But that'd take us through-"

"The Thornbush Mortuary, I know. I was wondering when you'd mention that."

Despite the seemingly horrified reaction of his boss Archer couldn't suppress his smile. He'd read about the Thornbush Mortuary as a kid, and now he'd finally be able to see it in person! Trees the size of mountains, vines larger than villages! It would be a childhood dream come true!

"If I may," he interjected, "why is that such a damning proposition?"

Lawrence sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Because whilst it may be a truly beautiful place, it is also an airman's nightmare. There's so much to avoid whilst passing through that only the most skilled of captains, or the most nimble of vessels, can get through the foliage without a collision of some sort. Usually only a minor collision, but sometimes..."

The engineer made a so-so motion with his hands whilst Talwynn helpfully mimed an explosion in the background. Archer swallowed hard and Lawrence shook his head at her in response, causing her to sheepishly focus on her food.

"We'll be fine. It just means we'll have more work to do in a few weeks. Try not to worry about it too much. So long as we do our jobs, and rest assured we will, we'll be fine."

Archer gave him a shaky smile and returned to his meal, the table conversing at a far more subdued tone than they had previously. Archer caught the eye of Cooke lingering by the ovens at the back of the room and offered him a smile, which the man returned with a small wave.

It was only as the officers began filing out that Cooke came closer to the table. At this point only Lawrence, Talwynn, and Archer himself remained seated, as the two marine officers had left to begin their duties for the day. There was a look of concern on Cooke's face as he approached, poorly masked under a smile that didn't really convey happiness, but more a tenseness or an anxious state of mind.

"Lawrence, did you hear? We're heading back though-"

"Thornbush Mortuary, yes Cooke. I can't say I'm thrilled, but I know we'll come out of it fine."

The words came out a little forced towards the end, and Archer just about caught the subtle motion towards him Lawrence made with his eyes. Cooke seemed to catch on and said no more despite clearly wanting to, instead just nodding and wringing his hands nervously. Lawrence sighed and turned to look at Talwynn, who nodded and stood up.

"Well, I suppose we'd best be off. There's work for us to do, Archer. Can't have you slacking on your second day, can we?"

"I don't-"

"Excellent, let's be off then!"

The young woman, who had far more energy than she had any right to possess this early in the morning, all but dragged him out of the room by his sleeve. Lawrence and Cooke both sent him an apologetic glances, but he was just thankful that he'd been able to finish his breakfast before being pulled out. When they were outside she let go of him and gave him a sheepish yet not at all sorry smile.

"Sorry about that. I think everyone just lets the two of them talk if they need to, especially given we're headed through a pretty dangerous region. Sorry about fraying your nerves earlier by the way, that was unkind of me."

Archer reached to fiddle with his tie, only to remember that no, he was not dressed as a footman anymore, and as such he had no tie to fiddle with.

"It's alright. Are they- I mean, the engineer and the cook, do you know if they're-"

She laughed, cutting him off.

"I get what you mean, don't worry. To tell you the truth, I don't know. It's safe to say they're extremely close; they've served on this ship longer than anyone else has, and they're extremely close friends, but I don't think they're an item."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, I've never heard either of them confirm it. Also I have a lot of money riding on neither of them actually having made any advances towards each other, so I'm hoping not."

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Archer shook his head and smiled despite himself.

"How is it I've known you for not even two days, and yet I feel like I know exactly what you're like already?"

She smiled a boisterous smile back at him.

"I like to think I portray myself very clearly, thank you very much Mr Haywood. I like blowing things up and the noise that the pickle guns make when I give 'em all they've got. I'm also fond of the way Lawrence's eyebrow twitches whenever I joke about firing them at gulls for fun."

Archer shook his head and chuckled. Yeah, this was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve.

"Anyways, I'd best be off. You might be able to wait for the boss-man but I do actually have drills to run. Try not to get into too much trouble, sky-chaser."

She patted him quite heavily on the rear as she walked off, making him jump half a mile and causing his face to turn very, very pink. Instead of wallowing in his embarrassment, he instead, though he would never admit it, began to eavesdrop on the two men still in the mess hall.

"- I can talk with the captain, get him to take a different course."

"Cooke, I mean you no disrespect but you're the head chef, not a 'true officer', whatever the captain means by that. He won't listen to you."

There was a look of resolution on the chef's face as he buoyed himself for his next words.

"He will if I tell him I-"

"No. No, you won't. Please Cooke. I know you care, but I'll be fine. Don't do something as drastic as that over what is quite a simple issue."

Cooke gave Lawrence a worried look, which the engineer did his best to dispel with an easy smile.

"Look, please, try not to worry about it. We're only going past Thornbush Mortuary, not through it."

The man turned to the side and whispered something under his breath, gently taking both of Cooke's hands in one of his own, but Archer wasn't close enough to make out the words. He smiled nonetheless. If the two of them really weren't in a relationship then they would be sooner or later, he was sure of it. He just needed to get into that betting pool now, preferably without his boss finding out about it. Assuming he survived this supposedly dangerous passage through one of the most beautiful natural wonders of the world. What joys.

He focused back and watched as the two men parted ways. Maybe he wouldn't make a bet, actually. If they ever did decide to get together then that was their business, not his. He'd not made it as a successful footman by prodding his nose into other people's private lives, and he'd do well to remember that now. He may not be a manservant anymore, but those lessons couldn't hurt to keep close.

"Mr Haywood. I believe our shift has begun?"

The voice of his boss shook him from his thoughts and made him jump a little, leading to the man giving him an expression of mild amusement and a raised eyebrow. He cleared his throat and made to answer.

"Indeed, Sir. I take it everything is alright in there?"

"I'm not a Sir, remember? And yes, I believe everything to have been worked out in a satisfactory manner within the context of my conversation with Cooke."

If the man knew he'd been eavesdropping he gave no indication, and so Archer counted himself lucky. Curiosity may have gotten the better of him then, but he had no wish to sour his burgeoning working relationship with his boss by being inconsiderate and intruding on his private moments.

"So," he began, "what's there for us to do today?"

Lawrence thought for a moment as he walked, looking off into the middle-distance as he seemingly recounted the issues they'd be trying to fix today.

"Well, normally I'd suggest warming the engines ready for firing, but we can't waste fuel running them now if the captain doesn't want us moving for a few more hours. At the very least we'll check them over again to make sure the repairs haven't somehow fallen apart in the night. Apart from that there's a section of walkway that has come slightly loose over near the marine's quarters. It isn't a danger yet but I don't want to wait for it to get any worse, so we'll be seeing if it's just a simple matter of a screw coming loose or if it's started to degrade and we need a whole new section of walkway."

Lawrence stopped for a minute as he slid down a ladder with practiced ease, Archer following behind at a slower, more cautious pace.

"Apart from that we'll just be running inventories for the rest of the day; we need to know how much of everything we have in the stores if we aren't stopping at any port before Three-Stream."

"Are we taking inventory on all of the stores?"

Lawrence shook his head as he deftly turned a corner, Archer following a moment later.

"No, apologies, I should have worded that better. I was only speaking in regards to the mechanical stores. Spare parts, excess materials and the like."

"And the speaking tubes? There was some mention of that yesterday."

Lawrence turned and gave him a satisfied look.

"Ah, you were paying attention? Excellent. Indeed, the speaking tubes have been damaged for almost a week now. I would have gotten around to it already, but I've been busy with the engines and patching up the balloon. I think it's either a few dented pipes or some loose brackets. I'm hoping it's the loose brackets, since that only requires some realignment and tightening of the fasteners to fix. If it's dented pipes then we'll need to either buff out the dents or replace them, and buffing out dents isn't easy. Well, I say that, it isn't difficult but it is... what's the word..."

"Finicky?"

Lawrence clicked his fingers.

"That's the one, thank you Mr Haywood. Indeed, it is a rather finicky procedure no matter what method you use, since the pipes tend to run between sections of wall or alongside other far more important pipes. In that respect, we need to be careful when hammering out dents."

Archer nodded, doing his best to follow along.

"And we're required to do that all today? It seems an awful lot."

Lawrence chuckled as he spoke.

"No, no. My mistake, I got myself off topic. No, today we'll just be checking the engines, preparing them to fire when we can, checking the walkway I mentioned, and taking inventories. It should last us most of the workday if nothing else more urgent comes up."

Archer nodded his understanding and the two continued on in silence until they reached the left engine, the same one they'd been working around for most of yesterday.

"Well, guess we'd best get started. Would you mind passing me that crowfoot wrench? I think I saw something loose yesterday but I never got around to tightening it. No, not that one, that's a combination wrench. The one that comes out at a weird angle."

"This one?"

He gently placed the strangely shaped tool into the engineer's waiting hand.

"Yes, that's the one. Thank you."

Archer grunted out a retaliatory courtesy, and the two sunk back into their routine as though yesterday's shift had never ended. It may have seemed awfully dull to most, but Archer found himself quite giddy with excitement, though you would have never guessed it by looking at him. He was on an airship, and today it would shake off its moorings and begin truly flying. He could hardly wait, despite the danger he knew to be present around such actions and, now, the route they were to take. He had a series of colleagues that seemed nice and one or two friends amongst them, even if on first glance they did seem a motley bunch, and to top it all off his boss-come-teacher-come-mentor seemed to get along with him swimmingly. The private quarters and good food were a bonus as well.

As such he went through the next several hours of work with sweat on his brow and a smile on his face, content in his decision to leave the manor grounds and find himself in the clouds.

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God, what a day it'd been so far. He'd spent somewhere around three hours with Lawrence checking over both engines and taking stock of the ship's inventory. They'd even received a time to have the engines prepared by, which put Lawrence in a bit of a happier mood even if the man disagreed with how late the ship would be setting off. Still, the captain wanted the engines ready to be fired at four, and as such there was still three and a half hours before the engines would be fired, and two hours before he and Lawrence needed to begin preparing them. According to Lawrence this meant they had time to relax for a little longer around lunch, enjoy a round or two of cards, and chat with the others before getting back to work. It wouldn't take them long to check that piece of walkway after all, and assuming it was just a loose screw or two they could replace it easily. If it was a rusted section then they'd just have to put a warning sign up and wait till tomorrow to focus on it, according to Lawrence. Talwynn had rolled her eyes and called him a 'lazy bastard' at that, and in response Archer was fairly certain Lawrence was making it his mission to clear her of all of her chips from the table. The gunnery officer had found herself consistently in last place, but never by a large enough margin to warrant her giving up and abandoning the game. It was a cruel trick Lawrence was playing, giving her just enough hope to continue playing before snatching it away again, but Archer would be lying if he said he didn't respect his boss immensely for pulling it off without her realising.

It helped that he also happened to find it extremely funny.

Archer himself had been out of the running for this game for some time now, having squandered his chips on an ill-fated double-pair not realising that the Corporal sat opposite had been in possession of a three-of-a-kind, solidly beating out his hand. Not that he was particularly worried; according to the rest of them at the table they never played for anything other than fun before the evening, so he wasn't at risk of losing out on his wages any time soon.

"Come on then, Haywood, give us a shout here: how's living on an airship been treating you so far?"

He looked up and gave a snarky smile to the sergeant.

"I'm tempted to say ask me in a month, but I feel as though I may be too busy to answer by then."

The corporal sat to the sergeant's right snorted, and the older man gave him a playful cuff in response.

"Oi, you're sat at the officer's table. Mind your bloody manners!"

The light laughing continued as the six people continued to play their hands, broken occasionally by a humorous comment and a bout of laughter. After a few minutes Lawrence stood after playing his hand.

"Excuse me, I need to relieve myself a moment."

The sergeant nodded in recognition of the words as Lawrence rose from the table and walked out of the room. Once the doors swung shut again Talwynn turned to him again.

"Right, spill then. What's it like working for Mr Walker?"

Archer raised an eyebrow and looked around the table.

"Rather pleasant, why?"

The assembled officers looked around at each other for a moment before the corporal spoke.

"Well it's just... I don't think anyone's ever actually told us what it's like to work under him."

"My predecessors didn't tell you? Why?"

Talwynn gave a long-suffering sigh before she spoke.

"Cause the little bastards realised we wanted to know and wouldn't tell us cause they thought it was funny, God rest them both."

The more level-headed corporal spoke up next. Archer would have called him 'Mr Rickard' or even just 'Owen', but both he and his uncle, the sergeant, shared exactly the same name.

"What the gremlin to my left is trying to say is that the twins kept themselves to themselves. Both for humorous reasons and for reasons of trust. I don't think either of them ever really trusted anyone besides each other and Lawrence, which is why what happened to them-"

"Needs not to be discussed at the dinner table, nephew. Have some manners."

"Of course uncle, my apologies. You as well, Mr Haywood. We're only curious about what Lawrence is like when you're around him constantly. He's... he's far more reserved whilst he's outside the mess."

The man let out a small chuckle before continuing.

"Which is saying something, since he's reserved enough in it. I think combined we all know little more than his name, date of birth, and the fact he's an Aetherborn. And of course one or two other tidbits we've picked up over the years, but very little in hard fact. It just makes us curious, is all."

"Mr Rickard, Ms Talwynn, what have I told you about hounding after other people's personal lives?"

The young man and younger woman both turned their faces away and swore under their breath as the figure of Talon Cooke walked up behind them, arms crossed in a way that was probably supposed to be intimidating, but in reality had about as much in the ways of fright-factor as the bark of a puppy. Still, both officers seemed to respect the young man, and as such responded to the admonishment with a grumbled apology.

"Now let up on the poor man, he's only served under Lawrence for a day and a bit. Besides, if he did know anything about Lawrence that you don't he wouldn't tell you anyway. Unlike some people aboard this vessel, he seems to be quite good at keeping what he knows to himself unless he gets permission from the subject of the conversation. Am I right, Archer?"

The words were said in a way that, whilst well-meaning and happy, seemed to be trying to convey a hidden message. The pointed stare that the man gave him, the beaming smile that tried to mask his intended message from the others, it led Archer to one conclusion that, he would confess, made him a little red in the face to think of.

He knows I was eavesdropping.

The words and their hidden message were not a threat or anything even approaching as such, Cooke seemed much too nice for that. Instead they seemed far more like a plea, asking rather than telling him to stay quiet.

"Certainly, Mr Cooke. There is one thing I will say though..."

There was an almost distressed look on Cooke's face as a smile spread across Archer's own. The other people at the table leaned in close as the silence stretched for a few seconds.

"Well, what is it?"

"It's this;" he said, rising from the table and draining what was left of his tea in a single gulp, "I think the twins were right. Keeping information from the lot of you is quite amusing. If you'll excuse me, I should see to natures call before my lunch break is over. My thanks for the tea, Mr Cooke. It was most pleasant."

Cooke seemed extremely relieved when he finished talking, the other officers chuckling around the table.

"Very good Mr Haywood, along with you. Very droll."

Talwynn pointed a finger at him, a mock scowl on her face.

"You've made a dangerous enemy, Mr Haywood! I'll have my revenge for your jape soon enough!"

He turned to her and smiled as he walked out.

"I would expect no less. Now if you'll excuse me I'd like to be dealed in for the next round, I'll be back shortly."