“Miss Alling, what supplies will you be taking aboard for the mission?” The captain asked, Her rasping voice still powerful enough to echo through the otherwise empty tactical room.
“Standard watchpost package, Ma’am.” Replied Jörda curtly. “I took the liberty of having it be loaded as we speak.”
Not good enough of an answer, Cai knew. But this wasn’t his job, it was Jörda’s, he was glad to let her be chewed out for a change.
“And what does this standard package include, Miss Alling?” Captain Aduï asked. Her face was neutral, but everyone working with her knew that this old woman did not like asking things twice. “As quartermaster you should know the Demon lies in the details.” Jörda– now realizing her mistake –swallowed and stepped forward to name every item on the list.
“For crew supplies, the package includes 420 nutri-packs of 1,400 calories each. These are able to sustain us for 18 standard days, but with rationing and recycling in place we should be able to stretch this out to nearly three months if need be.
“To top this off, we have access to a cubic meter of fresh water which, with recycling, should last us indefinitely.”
“Moving on to ammunition–” Jörda continued, but Cai’s attention started to drift.
The tactical room was a circular space over fifty meters across and ten meters high located at the very center of the RAL-port. Cai and his team stood gathered around a holographic display table in the central depression of the room while Captain AduÏ sat on a floating chair opposite from them. She gave the occasional nod as Jörda continued to list off the various supplies they would be taking.
The room had no windows and little in the way of decoration, instead focusing purely on the practical. All around them, rows of seats rose up like they were in an amphitheater. Realistically, the tactical room was far too large for just the seven of them, but the Navy had a long-standing tradition of briefing a flight crew on their first mission in the most imposing room available. In just a few days' time, when the Baknian breached the system, the tactical room would be briefing dozens of flight crews at a time to help coordinate the system-wide defense.
It was hard to imagine such a moment with how empty the room was now. Or rather, it was hard for Cai. He didn’t normally have trouble focusing, but it was hard to concentrate while his head was still ringing like a gong that just wouldn’t go quiet after being struck.
He closed his eyes for a second and traced a finger over where Harlan’s fist had met his head. A few pieces of dried blood crumbled under his touch and came loose, snowing down on his off-white flight suit. He groaned and tried to wipe it off to little avail. Luckily, everyone had their attention vested on Jörda.
“Mister Atreuna, are you done licking your wounds?” Croaked the old lady, proving Cai wrong.
He shot into attention and quickly raised his head, his eyes leveling with the captain’s. She was old –ancient even– especially in the adolescent eyes of Cai and the other cadets: Her hair was thin and gray, her face wrinkled and pockmarked, and her posture crooked and frail. When the Cadets of Flight Crew 1773 had first met their teacher-slash-commanding officer she hadn’t seemed like that impressive a soldier: Wearing no medals and her flight suit adorned by nothing other than the three small pins of gold earned through long years of service, it was clear that captain Aduï had hardly seen any action in her younger years and now that she was old and used up she’d gotten the shitty assignment of overseeing some snot-nosed cadets.
She was quite a ways away from the awe-inspiring mentor Cai –or anyone else in the team– had in mind when they signed up, but the captain had quickly shown that she was not one to be taken lightly.
“Yes ma’am.” Cai said. He stood as still as he could possibly manage, afraid that even the slightest twitch might invoke his officer’s disciplinary wrath. When he first met Aduï two years ago he had a hard time taking the crone seriously. Her iron glare might even have been somewhat amusing to him back then.
That was two years ago. Cai now felt his blood run cold every time his teacher had reason to stare at him like she did now. Her gray eyes pierced right through him and made him feel small, helpless even.
He swallowed and dared a look at his fellow cadets. Veriss, Maxin, Ishara, Jörda and Loten were all looking at him, their expressions unreadable. Harlan’s wasn’t; he barely even hid the amusement on his face. No help from them, then, great.
Cai’s eyes returned to the old Captain. Her gaze was still focused on him like a targeting lux. What lasted for mere seconds might as well have been hours.
With every passing moment, the urge to explain himself and apologize grew stronger, yet Cai knew better than to speak out of line and give the Captain a half-baked excuse, no. Protocol dictated that she would address him. Then and only then could he answer.
The confrontation was a test of the discipline she had drilled into him over the course of months, so Cai knew he had no choice but to brave the storm.
After waiting for a few more painstakingly long moments, the captain finally relented.
“Mister Atreuna, would you mind explaining to me what’s gotten you in such a rough shape?” She asked, observing each of the cadets one by one with an all-knowing gaze that just made you want to confess your secrets.. Harlan made a sheepish attempt to hide his bloodied knuckles but only pulled more attention to them in doing so. It would have been hard for Aduï to miss the movement, but she didn’t say anything about it.
“Yes ma’am.” Cai began and stepped forwards. A million things he could say raced through his head, from the age-old lie that he’d fallen out of his bunk at night to a bar fight with some rowdy engineers that had gotten out of hand. Anything to explain the severe blunt trauma he had suffered.
They were stupid thoughts, down to the last one, so he waved them away. There was only one thing he could say, even if it meant he had to take the fall.
“I made some comments which were out of line, captain.” He said and immediately felt his face get hot with shameful anger. “First mate Koha rightfully put me in my place.” He continued. It took every shred of his willpower to make the words sound genuine.
Cai shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to continue. The admittance of defeat, to say that Harlan had been right, hurt him more than his injuries. He raised his eyes at his comrades again, hoping for any kind of support. Slowly, nearly imperceptibly, Veriss nodded at him. It wasn’t meant as encouragement, but he decided to take it as that nonetheless. He straightened his back and looked captain Aduï straight in the eye before he continued.
“I now see the extent of the offense I have caused, and I assure First Mate Koha, Captain AduÏ and Commander Bunshin that no such incidents will occur again.“
Cai saluted by pressing his right hand against his back while his left hand, balled into a fist, tapped against his forehead and sternum in quick succession before he brought it down in a straight line towards his navel.
“On my honor, it shall be done.” Cai said with a voice full of solemnity, something he didn’t actually feel.
“At ease soldier, you’re not being court martialed here.” Aduï said with an impatient wave of her hand. “If Veriss so wishes, we can go further into detail about this ‘incident’ after the briefing. Now quit debasing yourself.”
“Yes captain.” Cai said, more than a little surprised. He let his arms hang at a neutral position and stepped back into the semicircle of his peers.
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“Now, Miss Alling, was that the list of supplies complete?” Aduï asked, turning her attention back to the Quartermastery officer, to which Jörda nodded.
“Yes ma’am. The stevedores assured me the loading should be complete at 2900 hours SL.”
“That’s three whole hours before your scheduled departure. Any particular reason for that, Miss Alling?” The captain asked with an amused look in her eyes. A stifled snort rose up to Cai’s right and Maxin let out a quick chuckle. Even Cai couldn’t help but smirk. The stories of slow-working dockers were commonplace among voidsailors both military and civilian.
“No ma’am. Just thought I’d give the wharfies a bit of a headstart today.” Jörda added, and Cai felt a smile start to form on his face as well. Picking on the wharfies was one of the shared navy activities that made him feel like part of the group rather than an outsider. He’d felt bad about the borderline discrimination at first, but quickly in his career he realized that the stevedores made just as much fun of them in return. It was just some harmless jabbing, both voidsailors and wharfies ultimately knew that they couldn’t function without one another. If anything, the jokes served to improve their relationship somehow.
“Very well.” Aduï said, and her face went serious again. “I’ve reviewed your operational documents and I believe you are sufficiently prepared for active duty.”
A buzz of excited murmurs rose up from Cai and his fellows. This was it, then. They finally got the green light to perform an actual mission.
“However, I do feel the need to address two things.” The old woman added when the murmurs had died down.
“Firstly, the Baknian wormholes aren’t going to stabilize until at least a week from now. This means you’ll be stuck with each other for a long time on a small ship. It’s gonna be boring, it’s gonna be uncomfortable. I trust that you’ll be able to keep it professional.
“Secondly, I want to remind you that you’re back at the bottom of the picking order.”
She paused and gave them all another penetrating stare, her eyes lingering on Cai for just a fraction of a second longer.
“This means no heroics. You have a simple job and that simple job is what you’ll do. Follow your orders to the letter. Nothing more, nothing less. Am I understood?”
“Yes captain” Responded a chorus of adolescent voices.
“Very well.” The captain said with a satisfied nod. “Big day today, go contact your families while you can. Dismissed.”
A weight slid off Cai’s shoulders and he turned to Maxin with a smile. “Whew, that went better than expected.” He said, but his relief was nipped in the bud before his friend could even respond.
“Captain, might I have a word with you?” Veriss asked, then turned to him.
“Atreuna, you stay here.” She added, and Cai felt his heart sink. Apparently they weren’t done with him just yet.
“Hard life, ka?” Maxin said with his thick offworlder dialect. He smirked and poked Cai in the ribs before walking off with the rest of the team. “See yous at the ship, if Veriss don’t do eat you alive, ka?”
“Right, see you there.” Cai nodded before turning around to face his two superiors. With a hiss, the doors of the tactical room closed behind Maxin, leaving the three of them alone.
“Commander Bunshin, when I invited you to discuss the incident further, I didn’t think you’d take me up on it.” Aduï sighed and sat back down. After a few seconds she made an impatient wave with her hand for Veriss to continue. “Out with it, then.”
“Captain, I think that mister Atreuna’s behavior is starting to be dangerous for the coherency of our team.”
The words felt like a punch to the stomach, Cai turned to Veriss, his eyes wide open in disbelief.
“That’s quite an accusation, commander. What are your grounds?” Aduï asked, her interest now piqued, judging by how she sat forwards in her chair.
“Mister Atreuna has a long-standing reputation of challenging authority. After mister Koha’s promotion, this has only gotten worse. He seems willing to go to any length to prove himself equal to the first mate, to the detriment of the chain of command.”
“I see." Aduï said thoughtfully. “What happened this morning certainly seems proof of that. Do you have any idea what might be the cause of this friction, commander?”
The lines in Veriss’ face hardened for a second and she shot a glance in Cai’s direction. “The reason why seems wholly irrelevant ma’am. Cai deserves some kind of punishment for his actions, whether they be justified or not. And I’m fairly sure they aren’t.”
“Fairly sure is not good enough for me, commander.” Aduï said. She stepped off her hovering chair and strode past the table until she was nearly face-to-face with Veriss. To the commander’s credit, she didn’t even flinch.
“What are you trying to accomplish here, Veriss? It is too late for anyone, including me, to kick Cai off the team. You want to punish him? Then go right ahead. You’re his commander, after all. Just keep it proportionate.”
Veriss frowned for two long seconds, her lips curling down as if she wanted to say something, but she quickly seemed to change her mind.
“Yes ma’am, I’ll come up with a suitable form of chastisement.” She said. There was a hint of venom in her voice, but Aduï said nothing of it. “Am I dismissed?” Veriss asked, but the captain shook her head no.
“Not quite.” She said. “Before you go, I want you to quote your own words from your latest evaluation report. Tell Cai how you described him to the faculty.”
Cai had trouble deciding who he should be looking at, or even what he should be feeling. His two superior officers were having a very polite disagreement about him, right in front of him. And for him to be given insight into his own evaluation was nearly unheard of.
“This is highly unorthodox.” Veriss sputtered in protest, echoing Cai’s thoughts. “Are you ordering me to?”
“Do I need to, commander?” The captain asked coldly, to which Veriss swallowed.
“No need Ma’am.” Se sighed, then turned to Cai. If looks could kill he would have been dead on the spot. Veriss brought up a small display from her dome and scraped her throat.
“Quarterly evaluation of cadet Cai ‘Dodger’ Tarin Atreuna.” She read aloud, her voice flat and monotone.
“Cadet Atreuna still struggles to adapt to the Academy life after nearly two years of enrollment. Atreuna’s contacts with other cadets are limited within the confines of the curriculum and seem nonexistent outside them. The cadet has a deep-rooted habit of avoiding others and maintains a very low level of camaraderie with his flight team, leave alone cadets outside his direct environment. While a cadet’s social interactions are their own business and not usually a crucial factor in such evaluations, it does appear like Atreuna’s personal performance and teamwork capabilities are severely hampered by this disposition.
“This effect is only amplified by the cadet’s background. Many Void-born cadets see Atreuna as just another self-absorbed prophecy chaser, and Atreuna makes no efforts to change this public opinion.”
Veriss looked away from the document displayed in front of her, instead turning to Cai as the slightest of smirks crept over her face.
“Based on this, I would not recommend Cadet Atreuna be allowed to continue his Academy career.”