There are five classes of ships in the Imperial Navy: Dreadnought, Cruiser, Destroyer, Corvette and Cutter. Dreadnoughts are colossal fortresses of steel and weaponry, almost too large to call a ship; they are seldom found outside of Void Fleets. Cruisers are the largest vessels in fleets without dreadnoughts, as such tthey are the heavily armed and armoured command ships of battlegroups. The name Destroyer explains the ships’ function very succinctly, they are smaller and lesser armoured than the cruisers, but are still outfitted with enough heavy weaponry to level a city. Corvettes are the long range scouts and support vessel for the fleets, protecting their larger cousins from fighters and swarms. Finally, Cutters are short range patrol vessels and aid in large scale battles by ferrying boarding parties and serving as escorts to the battlegroup.

-Excerpt from Imperial Navy training manual 22nd edition

I arrived early the next morning, my excitement had made it difficult to sleep and I had woken up far earlier than needed. I’d tried to waste some time by reviewing the documents on the IMS Icarus and my crew, but I had already memorized them last night. After a fruitless hour of this I decided to simply go out and grab something to eat before heading to Hanger Bay B to inspect the Icarus, even if I was a bit early.

One thing I was finding difficult to get used was the deference everyone showed to me. It was not just getting to skip the line at the tram. Any line I was instantly booted to the front, people I passed in the halls snapped salutes and all sorts of gestures of respect. It was not uncomfortable, just odd. I was not used to this amount of deference and half the time I expected there to be someone more important standing behind me.

I couldn’t even fault them for the attention, captains are supposed to be some of the most hard hard-bitten officers in the fleet. Veterans of dozens of engagements, survivors, ruthless tacticians and inspiring leaders. And there were very few of them, even the Avalanche probably only had five or six depending how many cutters were stationed on her.

What they were not was a brand new, inexperienced graduate of the academy. It made me feel like I was lying to my comrades in arms, even though I had already decided I was ready and more than capable of doing this job. There was no one at the academy, including the professors, who could go toe to toe with me in battle simulations, I know ships and ship tactics better than the back of my hand.

Unfortunately, the one thing I lacked was the most important: levels. Levels give Skills, abilities that can turn the tides of battles. Warriors and soldiers gain abilities that propel their bodies beyond human limits, ones that alter their equipment and ones that give them powers that only archmages would be capable of. Captains are a bit different, we’re multipliers, we gain Skills that modify and boost our ships and crews.

Levels do not just give Skills, they are an indication of experience and talent. The higher an individuals’ is and the younger they are is the greatest signs of someone who will be something, someone worth following. And I do not have the levels. Not yet at least.

These were the thoughts running amok through my head as I grabbed a quick breakfast before heading down to the hanger bay. Perhaps not the best things to be mulling over on my first day, but it was something that was important. I would need to prove myself to my crew and the best way to do that was by leveling up and showing them I am as good as I say I am.

So I entered Hanger Bay B with my head held high and shoulders square, determined to make the impression of a confident and competent captain. The flight deck was not too busy at this hour, just a few crewmembers walking to their respective ships and maintenance personnel working on a fighter in the far corner.

The only reason I did not get distracted looking at all the other ships was because I was too excited to see my own for the first time. And there it was in lot 3, the name IMS Icarus painted in bright red letters along the side.

I stopped in front of it to admire her. The SR-17 Raptor Gunship did sort of look like its namesake, a great big bird of prey in flight with its long arching wings joining together into a narrow body. The only thing it was missing was a hooked beak at the front, instead there was angled plates of metal armour, designed to deflect incoming fire.

The main form of propulsion was a single large thruster jutting out from the rear of the cutter and two smaller ones attached to each wing. For maneuverability, there were several smaller grav-thrusters evenly spaced out along the hull. Grav-thrusters have higher energy outputs than traditional ones, but take far more power to run; so unless a ship has a powerful core, they are only used for maneuvering. But the SR-17 Raptors have high output cores, allowing for several more than are standard for cutters, giving the gunships high acceleration and maneuverability.

The wings were mostly useless in space, unless we found ourselves flying through a gas cloud for some reason. But the ship was designed with both space and atmospheric flight in mind, as cutters are often used to escort shuttles or to support ground forces.

The only decoration on the otherwise plain steel alloy hull was a series of interconnected golden lines forming a series of sigils in concentric rings just beneath the nose. A spell array, an armament designed to focus and amplify the powers of a mage, allowing spells to be used in ship to ship combat. Although somewhat strangely I had not seen a mage on the crew roster; something to inquire about with the others when I met them.

I turned my gaze to the other weapons outfitted on the Icarus. Peeking out from beneath each wing were the pointed tips of three missiles, making six in total. Each one was a short ranged Tatianus Guided Rocket 6000 series or TGR-6000, capable of punching through armour armor plating and delivering an explosive payload.

The last weapons were a set of four long barrels poking out from the hull, two on the top and two on the bottom. From the documents I knew they were low velocity coilguns, rapid firing electromagnetic guns that can propel metal darts nearly 1000m/s. The darts lack the mass to punch through most armour plating on military vessels, but when paired with the TGR-6000s and the spell array they can wreak havoc on the internals opened up by the other weapons. The Icarus was a very deadly little ship.

I probably would have spent the next several hours just standing there, imagination running rampant on what I could do with my ship, if a voice had not interrupted me.

“You the new Captain?”

I turned to see the half dozen imperial legionnaires standing behind me. A legionnaire’s gear was much different than a crewmember’s, black armour plating covering every inch of the standard flight suit they wore beneath. Their helmets lacked the large visor mine had, instead favouring protection over visibility in the form of two glowing red eyes glaring out from within the faceplates.

Even with all the armour they did not appear bulky, the close fitting plating still allowing for easy movement and close to full range of motion.

In addition to the armour, most legionnaires were fitted with an exo-suit to enhance their physical capabilities. Ones with personal augmentations or Skills might do without if it was stronger than the exo-suit’s capabilties.

Each of them were also far more heavily armed than I, bearing an assortment of guns, swords and axes. I do not know much about non shipboard weapons, but they looked deadly enough and the legionnaires carried them with easy familiarity.

The one who had spoken was a dark skinned man at the head of the group, the insignia on the man’s shoulder identifying him as an optio. The man looked like a stereotypical legionnaire with hair cropped to his scalp and a strong jaw. He carried his helmet in the crook of his arm and had a short sword belted to his waist, along with a rifle strapped to his back.

“Yes, yes I am. Captain Alyssa Fox at your service,” I said, proud that my voice was steady and non of my startlement showed through. It was a bit of a shock to turn and find a group of heavily armed soldiers standing looming directly behind me, especially when the shortest of them was at least a head taller than I.

The man nodded and snapped a salute, the other legionnaires following suit.

“Glad to meet you sir. Name’s Marcus Lasaro. I’m the Optio of your legion complement,” the man said in his deep voice, before turning and pointing out each of his soldiers. “This is legionnaires Kalix, Nawar, Bizili and Nico. And this is our medic, Simmons.”

Each of the legionnaires nodded or saluted as they were named in turn. The medic was the only one with any difference on his armour, having a white shoulder plate to identify him as such.

“A pleasure soldiers,” I said with a nod back before glancing at the datapad strapped to my arm with a frown. “And here I thought I was early.”

One of the legionnaires laughed, I think it was Nico.

“You are! But Hoff keeps us all on his own schedule!”

I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure I got all of that. I think he was talking about my First Officer, a man named Theodore Hoffman.

Marcus saw my evident confusion and elaborated.

“First Officer Hoffman likes to keep things on track and leave for patrol right on time, meaning everyone has to get here early to get all pre-flight checks done.”

“Ah,” I said with a nod, thinking of Emily’s words from the night before, describing him as a ‘bit of a stuck up prick’. Between that and this I was beginning to get a good idea of what the man was like. One of those rules snobs, who refused to do anything not by the book.

Perhaps sensing my emerging feelings on the man, Marcus spoke again, interrupting my analysis of my tidbits of information.

“He’s a strict officer, Hoffman is, but a good man. Someone you can trust to have your back in a fight.”

The other legionnaires muttered their agreements and I tabled my premature opinions on the man. It was unfair to judge him based off nothing but vague words and feelings when I was hoping others would not do the same to me.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Anyway, most of your crew should be onboard already, should head in a meet 'em.”

Marcus gestured me to go ahead of him and I walked up the open ramp into the Icarus followed by the legionnaires.

We walked up into a short corridor running perpendicular to the ramp with two doors on either end. According to the schematics if I headed left I would run into a washroom and an airlock leading to another exit and primary door we would use while in space. To the right were the doors heading into the engineering room, where the ship core was located, and the common room behind me.

Knowing most of the crew would be found in the common room or other stations connected to it I turned to the right and pushed the button to open the door.

The common room was the largest room on the ship, around 10 meters by 5 meters large, and it served as the kitchen and dining area, bunk room, recreation area and general area to spend time while in transit or on patrol.

Along the sides were several tables with benches for seats, which could all be folded down into beds during lights out. The center area was taken up by a large counter with a couple of holo-projectors the crew could use. Equipment and effects was stored in overhead stowage bins above the tables or beneath the counter.

A chain of runes across the ceiling emitted heat and light and I knew if I looked around I would see gravity runes placed to generate artificial gravity while the Icarus was under way. The grav-field was unused right now as we were still docked within the Avalanche.

The room was clearly well lived in, posters displaying famous gladiators and celebrities decorated the walls, scuff marks and grooves were gouged into the counter and it smelled faintly of sweat. It felt like coming into someones home for the first time and it would now be mine for the next several years.

There were five of the crew in the room, four were seated around one of the tables, two of them in an intense arm wrestling competition while their comrades shouted encouragement. All I could see of the other one was a pair of boots hanging off the edge of one of the benches, presumably taking a nap. I took the moment to look over my team for the foreseeable future.

All of them were wearing the black and red naval flight suits like me, except one of the arm wrestlers had the top half of her’s bunched around her waist as she strained against her opponent, wearing a grey tanktop beneath. None were wearing helmets at the moment, having left them on the center counter, so I could study their faces and expressions.

Two men and two women, not rare, but a bit uncommon as men were the predominant sex found within our ranks. I let out a sigh as I saw even the smaller of the two women was taller than I, as it was with every group I was a part of.

The woman engaged in the competition had her teeth bared in a growl as she strained. She was built like a brick, powerful shoulders flexing as she, a tattoo coiling down her arm as leaned into her opponent, slowly pushing his arm to the table.

I could only see the profile of her opponent, a brown haired man with a narrow face burning red with exertion. The insignia on his shoulder identifying him as one of the Icarus’ weapons specialists.

The tattooed woman glanced up at the legionnaires as the filed in after me and started storing their gear beneath the counter. Then her eyes widened as she noticed me standing next to the doorway.

“Oh shit. Captain on deck!” she shouted, I winced as the sound echoed loudly in the enclosed space.

Instantly the two abandoned their game and they all shot to their feet, snapping salutes. There was a shout as the sleeping man woke, followed by a loud smack as he slammed his head on the table while attempting to get up. A moment later he crawled off the bench rubbing his head, snapping a dazed salute after rising to his feet.

“Good morning to you to,” I said, trying not to smirk at their antics. “Captain Alyssa Fox at your service.”

A moment later as they kept standing to attention I belatedly remembered they were waiting for me to relax.

“Er— at ease soldiers.”

They relaxed and dropped their salutes, the man who had been sleeping sliding back into the seat, still rubbing his head with a groan.

The brown haired gunner was the first to speak with a warm smile.

“Welcome aboard the Icarus Captain Fox! Gill Anderson, port side gunner.”

I nodded to Gill and looked at the other expectantly, after a moment the slim woman next to him spoke up.

“Mackenzie Reeves, though I go by Kenzie. The other port side gunner.”

“Raul Santos. Starboard gunner.” This one was the dark hair man across the table.

That left the blonde giant of a woman, who had sat back down by now, already relaxed. She shot me a feral grin.

“Kari, starboard gunner,” She said, then jutted her chin at the last crew member in the room. “And that sorry lump is Poct, our pilot.”

Poct, who I now saw had a pilots wings printed on his shoulders raised a hand in greeting.

“Eurgh— my head…” He moaned.

One of the legionnaires called out as he slammed a cabinet door shut.

“You’ll be fine. Your heads thick as rock.”

A couple of the crew members and legionnaires laughed as Poct shook a fist in mock anger. I was liking everyone so far, they all had an easy manner about them and seemed to get along fine; while still keeping a professional demeanor. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but this impressed me, especially since they were all on the ship over twenty minutes before they were expected to be.

“You look a little young for captain. You can’t have much experience?”

This came from Raul, the dark haired man was eying me with with a frown. Then he winced as Kari jabbed and elbow into his side.

“No, don’t worry about it. It's a fair question.” I said.

I had to be careful about this, it was not really a challenge to my authority or anything. But I needed to make sure that I did not come across as some undeserving of the Class. The though of lying sprung into my head, but if it came out later on, it would destroy any credibility I build up between now and then.

“I’m going to be honest here. The answer to that question is no. Commodore Chione graduated me directly to captain. But I am the highest scoring officer from the academy.”

“Wait— you haven’t even been in battle yet?” One of the legionnaires said with a shocked expression, I think it was Kalix.

I schooled my face to appear calm and confident, when in reality my heart was beating a thousand beats a minute. I needed to be respected by the crew, if they did not I would be in big trouble the moment we got in a spot of trouble. They might ignore orders or flat out refuse to serve under me, demanding another captain. It had happened in the past, there were many examples of captains being thrown out by their crews in our textbooks.

“Nope, but I pr—” I was interrupted by Raul.

“How the fuck did you manage that? Bloody nobles.”

He scowled and this time nobody jabbed an elbow into his side. In fact, everyone was looking at me with stupefied disbelief on their faces.

“I’m not a noble. I will remind you that it was the Commodore who promoted me.” I said with a pointed look. “She chose me because I am that good. I have never lost a simulation, I was ranked top of my year and it was not close. Besides this happens every year to the rank number one cadet, so its not just some random experiment.”

I waited for their reactions with baited breath, already questioning my words. It might have been better to leave out the last part as it kind of contradicted the rest, but all of it was still true.

Most seemed at least somewhat mollified and relaxed again. Although a couple still had wary expressions on their faces. Raul was definitely the one I would need to watch out for the most, he muttered something under his breath that I assumed was not complimentary.

It was Gill who broke the silence.

“Well I for one trust the Commodore’s judgment,” he said with that same warm smile on his face as he looked around at the crew. “Besides, top of the academy is nothing small to boast about.”

Everyone relaxed a bit more at the friendly gunner’s words and I decided right then and there he was my favourite. It was nice to have someone who trusted in me and was a capable peacemaker.

We chatted about the academy for a few minutes, Gill asking for stories about my exploits in the simulations. Soon enough the others were chiming in with their own experiences at their academies or boot-camps in the legionnaires cases.

After a few minutes of this I asked Gill where the other crew members were. The Icarus was supposed to have a crew of sixteen: six legionnaires, four gunners, a mage, an engineer, pilot, a comms specialist, a first officer and a captain. I could not see any sign of the missing crew members in the common room, although I was pretty sure Emily was not here yet.

“Hoff should be here any second, he always arrives ten minutes early, practically on the dot,” he said glancing down at his datapad. “Rhusk is in engineering, probably muckin’ around with the core. No idea where our comms or mage is though, they’re both new like you.”

Before I could respond a voice spoke up from behind me.

“No mage coming today, the transport from Pheibos was delayed by a few days.”

I turned to see a tall man stepping through the doorway, a first officer’s insignia emblazoned upon his shoulder. The first thing that struck me as I took the man in was how neat he appeared. A bit of an odd thing to notice right away, but it was the best way to describe him.

He looked to be only a few years older than me, piercing grey eyes lay between perfectly combed brown hair and a clean shaven face. His uniform was immaculate, looking as if it had just been cleaned and pressed. He looked like he had simply hopped out of one of those recruitment ads.

I suddenly felt self-conscious about my own slightly rumpled flight suit. I had even taken the time to comb my hair when I got up, but still did not feel half as polished as the first officer.

The man smoothly turned to face me and snapped a perfect salute.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Captain Fox. I am First Officer Theodore Hoffman, I look forward to working together.”

Hoffman’s spoke exactly how he looked, polite words delivered with courteous respect. But something about him set me on edge, he spoke in a decidedly neutral tone and kept his emotions concealed as he took me in in turn. Deciding I was just weirded out by his neatness I snapped my best salute back.

“I as well First Officer, I firmly believe we will do great things together. I hope you don’t mind me leaning on your experience for these first few days.” I replied, trying to emulate his confident manner. He already knew my name, so I assumed he had been given a debriefing on my situation.

He nodded curtly and then looked over to the rest of the crew and for the first time I saw a flicker of emotion on his controlled features. A slight tensing around his temple as he saw something that annoyed him.

“Specialist Sherpova! Please wear your uniform properly,” he barked in an annoyed tone and Kari grumbled and the flight suit back over her shoulders.

“Sorry, it’s just bloody hot in here.”

I could sort of get that, the flight suits do have temperature control systems built in, but its more designed to keep the heat in while in the void of space. Not the most comfortable when you got sweaty, as would probably happen in an intense arm wrestle.

But it was against regulations, baring any more skin than necessary was both unprofessional and a safety risk if there was any sort of leak. I had not commented on it earlier because I did not want to potentially antagonize any of my crew before they got to know me. Hoffman clearly did not care or judging from his reaction, had gone through this several times before.

“Have you completed inspections yet?” The First Officer asked the hapless gunner.

Kari hesitated for a second before answering.

“Was ah— just getting to that,” she said.

Hoffman’s stared blankly at her and the rest of the crew while some of the legionnaires snickered silently from their side of the common room.

“Well get to it then. We leave in twenty. Short patrol today, four hours out, four back. It will get us used to the new setup.”

The gunners all jumped to their feet and hurried off to the small doors in the far wall leading to the gunnery stations. Hoffman turned to our pilot.

“Flight checks?”

“Done,” Poct replied.

“Rhusk?”

“Doin’ his thing I reckon. Heard some sounds coming from engineering.”

“Go check on him, make sure everything is good to go.”

“Right-o.”

Poct leapt to his feet and strode passed us to the engineering room.

I was quietly impressed with how Hoffman handled everything, it was all organized and everyone jumped to do what he asked. It was clear he was well respected by the crew, even if he was a bit of a stickler for the rules.

Next he turned to the legionnaires.

“Optio Lasaro, are you all set to go?”

The optio raised a hand in confirmation as his people finished stowing their gear and sat at the tables.

Finished with his tasks the First Officer finally turned to me, expression flattening back to neutral.

“I can show you your station now Captain. Unless you wish to inspect the ship?”

“No, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anyone. I’ll have plenty of time to see everything over the next few days,” I said with a smile.

Hoffman did not return the smile, instead giving a nod of acknowledgeable and spinning on his heel and marching to the door I knew lead to the bridge.

“Very well, follow me.”

Even his boots were polished to a gleam. I peeked down at my own brand new boots, seeing a scuff mark on the side and followed with a self-conscious huff.