Jenel was resting up, reading a slate to keep herself occupied, when the screams started. With a worried sigh, she got up, and headed down to Eileen’s quarters, she hadn’t really figured out why their captain often woke up in the middle of the night, screaming like a banshee. Nor did she prod about it. The fitting of experimental cybernetics was illegal as hell, and she was aware that Eileen didn’t exactly volunteer for the process.
So until Eileen was ready to talk, all she could do, was wait it out. She slipped into their quarters, gently stroking her hair until the whimpers died down, making reassuring shushing noises. When she woke up, Jenel would be there, as she always tried to be. For now, she cuddled up, it made her feel better to be close, even when there was nothing she could do about it.
She’d seemed even more twitchy since this mess started, which was not exactly unexpected. It had been a rough two days, (was it really only that long since it all kicked off? Bloody hell, only she could claim forbidden tech, adopt a spark ship, find an entire bay of single crewman gunships, and kill a cartel leader in that short a time.
Trouble seemed to follow her around like a puppy.) Still, Jenel wasn’t going anywhere, and was never letting her out of sight again. ********************************************************************************************* I was woken up (thankfully), by the voice of Reliance.
“Captain, we are approaching the security cordon around the boneyard. My authorisation codes should be sufficient, but just in case, it is best you take your place on the bridge. I cannot use my full range of defensive measures without a crew at the helm.”
“Alright Relly, give me a few minutes to get properly dressed, and appreciate the cutie, then I’ll be right up. Until then, do not approach.”
“Who, or what, is a Relly, captain?”
“Your nickname from now on, Reliance.”
“I do not require, or desire, an informal designation.”
“As far as I’m concerned, if you are a member of my crew you need one, there are times when a crew needs to ditch the stick up their ass, and if you keep yours it kinda ruins it for everybody.”
“Captain, I am a flotilla class dreadnought, formality is wired into me. Proper protocol is how a ship should operate.”
“Maybe, if you had even a hundredth of a crew complement, trained in that protocol. But instead what you have is two, traumatised cyborgs, one of whom is only recognised as a captain based on a technicality, and a space dwarf in denial.”
“HEY, I heard that.” Came a voice, over comms. That was definitely Nara.
“I know,” I replied with a smirk. “If you aren’t listening in on comms, where’s the fun in making fun of ya? You know as well as I do that I don’t talk behind folks backs, leave that to the cartel, and other walking slag piles. Oh, and Reliance, please store that informal designation.”
“Understood captain.” Reliance replied, (did you know Flotilla AI’s could successfully produce a passive-aggressive tone, no? Neither did I until just then, but apparently they can.) “Registering informal alias Relly.”
Reliance, and our resident mad scientist sufficiently aggravated, I gave Jenel a morning kiss, then headed for the head, remembering, to my delight, that I no longer had to go three decks through the tubes to get there. Then headed back up a deck to the bridge. Yes, we had an actual bridge now. No more patching access via the engineering room. Joy.
It was still weird to me, to get used to the idea of sitting in the actual captain’s chair. Just as a note, I have no idea how my predecessors sat there for more than ten minutes at a time. The chair was a threadbare, literal and figurative pain in my ass. If I ever got my hands on the absolute arsehole who decided that the arm rests needed widening, then fitted with a set of controls, I would kill them myself.
I took comfort in the knowledge, that either time, or an interstellar war, had probably taken care of that before I was even born. At least, about six layers of tape on the arm rests, made sure I didn’t accidentally send us into slip, because I slouched or something. That sounded less than ideal.
On the other hand, the gigantic view screen that took up, like, half the wall of the bridge? That still worked. I vowed, then and there, to have a movie marathon on that one of these days. What? If you had a twenty foot, high detail view screen in front of you, could you resist the temptation? Relly, (heh) would probably gripe about it a bit, but so long as we rigged a secondary screen to keep an eye on the outside, I didn’t really see the harm in it.
Soon enough Jenel, still a bit bleary-eyed, and Nara, stepped onto the bridge, seeming just as enthused with the lift, and bridge access as I was. Relly sent out a tight beam to approximately where her systems told her the security satellites were.
Carefully waiting, to check responses before starting to ease forward. When orbital security systems were involved, you really didn’t wanna rush in, for one, they may see it as a raid. For another ringing the doorbell, and seeing if they shoot visitors, before deciding a visit is worth the risk is probably a better plan. Especially if you remember, testing one satellite, and learning it is gonna smack you down, is way better than finding out they were just a little slow warming up, once you’re encircled.
Orbital security isn’t the kind of system that lets you back out once you’re in. Probably because they are usually guarding the good shit, and don’t want you coming back later with extra people. Still not sure whether getting responses from only half of them was worrying, or reassuring. Judging by the amount of ship debris floating about, a little from column a and a little from column b. It showed we weren’t the first ones to find the place, or the first to attempt access.
“OK, Reliance, take us in.”