The Adranic Ocean was sailed at the peril of ancients, and was only truly crossed with some consistency at the beginning of the Imperium’s Silver Age. Crews aboard their sailing vessels, vulnerable to the inconsistencies of the ever fickle wind and the notoriously unreliable compass, would find themselves starved and drowned as massive but weak cyclones would accost them in circles across thousands upon thousands of miles of empty water.
But the real threat within the Adranic wasn’t the usual natural phenomena of large storms or rogue waves: something lurked beneath those waves that were beyond science to explain. While the Stygian Sea had its fair share of tales featuring multi-tentacled monsters and whale eating sharks, the Adranic’s major source of terror was in something more subtle.
In ancient times, sailors would claim to hear the voices of their loved ones in the waves. How, despite all reason and logic, the constant drone of their cries both of tortured pain and of beautiful love would drive even the most competent crewmen to throw themselves and their fellow sailors into the water.
Such a tall tale would be easily dismissable, if the Imperium had not actually lost a ship of the line at the end of the Silver Age to the supposed aliment of ‘Adranic Insanity.’ How the Treasure’s own crew had set ablaze their powder stores and drowned themselves into the deep abyss from some awful madness (all six scattered survivors claimed that the insane crew had screamed of ‘bringing him back’ before they started slaughtering each other). Since then, with some bit of ironic tradition, any Imperial vessel that was attempting to sail the Adranic would distribute wax earplugs to both crew and passengers for good luck.
Though, Sophia noted that nobody aboard the Argent Dawn had bothered with this tradition. She supposed, through her own observations out of the Officer’s Mess’ window (the military term for cafeteria), that being this high up from the water’s surface gave them plenty of distance between vulnerable crew and supposed vengeful spirit.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder as she watches Unudo’s massive blue gaseous body rise from the starry night horizon, of whose voice could they conjure to make her dive into the water.
Sophia Elise the Eighth was alone within the large common room hanging from the vessel’s underbelly, the officer’s mess hall dead silent in the middle of the battlecruiser’s midnight shift. Small cups of hot tea and croque sandwiches provided for any officers in need of a quick snack, a single serving taken into the Fourth Princess’ possession and consumed uncharacteristically slowly.
Two slices of butter toasted sourdough bread squeezing a runny egg, an indulgent slice of ham, and gooey Reichland swiss-mustard cheese: the Southern Reichland provinces' signature dish brought into the fold of its adopted legion with much glee and celebration.
It was, to little exaggeration, closer to a full meal rather than a quick snack and they knew it. Especially matched with the double sugar, double cream cup of black tea that this mess hall served alongside it.
“So good.” Sophia quietly comments with a long, happy sigh.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The door opens gently, a well oiled mechanism breaking the airtight seal with a light hiss.
Strange that an officer would take leave of their station now. Sophia thinks as she takes a very small sip of tea, adjusting her posture to something slightly more presentable than an open legged, slouching rotter in thick pajamas.
She was their Supreme Commandant after all; a reputation needed to be kept amongst her ceremonial subordinates.
But this was no subordinate, the young man entering the Officer’s Mess Hall freezing in place as he locks eyes with his wife.
Zai Tianci looked so different in his dark black robe-like sleepwear. A frame no longer hidden by his usually loose fitting clothing, now revealed by the layers of opaque silk draped over his thin body.
Sophia had, for the first half of this two day-long journey, confined herself to her personal stateroom and slept like a corpse before waking up at midnight (this was, for her relatively awful timeframe, breakfast). But it was obvious that Zai up until now, had not gotten a single lick of sleep. Sunken eyes rimmed with dark circles, a developing hunch as he stands completely still under the predatory gaze of the Imperium’s Fourth Princess.
Several seconds pass in awkward silence before her thought process points its mental finger decisively towards the rest of her brain. The universe thinks it can humiliate you more after your catastrophic first date. But no more! Your siblings have coached you on how to interact with men!
Sophia did tell them how it went, and from that cataclysm all her sisters had to sit her down and explain from the beginning the basics of actually talking to the opposite gender without creeping them out or crashing into a panic attack…
Yeah they kinda excluded Natan from that conversation, but Beatrice must’ve had enough experience to help right?!
And not just that, but this is no longer some random prince you’ve met once. This eye-candy meal of a man is now your husband! You’re royalty, princess of the Ensolian Imperium: his lawful WIFE. You could probably ask up to half of his kingdom from him and he’ll be forced to give it to you!
Her hypothalamus immediately fires up at the thought, flourishing for a millisecond before being beaten and dragged in front of the central consciousness committee in mental chains. A hanging sign from its neck, publicly shamed as passing mental faculties point and whisper towards the words written in a beaten bloody signature: PERVERT.
Still, Sophia initiates now with unbridled (and very misplaced) confidence.
“Good evening Zai.” She gently greets, maneuvering her body to face forward at the table and keeping a leveled gaze at the young man.
Report to the Central Consciousness Committee: it’s like 2:80am in the morning, we’re far beyond evening…
The thought process snaps. Well, you wanna wish him a good morning?! Yeah, that’s what I thought.
He timidly answers her, moving as if trying to find a way out of this situation. “Hello.”
“You’re welcome to join me.” Sophia continues with obscene grace, setting the aluminum cup onto the metal table and waving towards the empty chair in front of her. “Please, take a sandwich and tea if you wish.”
The Prince stiffens slightly at the offer, hand already reaching back towards the automatically sealing door. “I actually just was…”
Push, and push hard now.
“I insist Zai.”