THE SPACE NAVY AU (18+)

You curl up in your bean bag nest, detesting the plasticky easy-to-clean surfaces, the rustling of the plastic pellets inside. You know they can't let you have any furnishings that can't be hosed down with disinfectants, but it still feels really personal just at the moment. You hold the tablet in both hands, irrationally tenderly, and sometimes you catch your thumb stroking the frame as if it's his knuckles.

"I trust you not to blow me up. It's okay that you sometimes feel like it. You've had some really shitty captains, haven't you? I served under a really shitty general, my last bit in the marines, and... well, let's just say you and I have a few things in common."

 

"....yeah. When I was. I had. I tried to capsize, once. Slam back into Alternia, we were close, picking up, uh, we used to do the milk and egg runs, picking up the newbie ships, the orbit was decaying, I almost made it— and it would have been— beautiful, break this place apart, break everything. Dig a fucking trench across the shitty fucking planet that makes all these shitty fucking people. But I didn't make it. I waited too long. I got caught. No blowing up for me."

The sound of wet, unsteady breathing underneath the static. "It was. It was a while before my first mark. On the wall. From there. It was a while until I could scratch that in. And even— now, even now my minder's settings. Preclude blowing up. I've been working on it for so long."

A harsh burst of static, and bright sparks pop and dance over Bel's fingers.

"I won't though. I won't, even if I can, I won't blow you up, I promise."

 

"Thank you, Galley. I feel better knowing you're. You're watching over me." You try to catch sparks on your fingers as if they're kisses.

Whoops, sentimentality level rising. Pull up, Kadros. You don't need to scare him with another breakdown.

"Arguus is bringing you some presents from me, by the way. You said you had a sketchbook but your pen broke, so I thought you might like my inks and brushes. I tried my hand at illuminating manuscripts a while back, but I never got good at it, and I'm too busy now."

 

"Arguus!" Galley growls, going from tearfully vulnerable to exasperated in a flat second. "I'm going to make him put them down outside my door. Can I do that? They won't break if they're on the floor for a minute? He was in here for two nights and it still smells like lemon asshole all over the fucking place."

 

You burst out laughing. "Yes, it won't damage them, that's fine. Why are you two so growly, anyway? Is it okay if I ask that? I'm just really curious what you're fighting over, if it's not blackflirting."

 

"I don't like him," Galley says petulantly. "You know he talks to computers and shit? Try having that happen to your head without even a hello. Just, oh, hey, you're equipment, I'm your boss, let's go. Fuck that. Busted every membrane in his stupid mutant pan for it and sent him crying mustard back to his moirailsprit, ha."

 

"Ouch," you wince. "Yeah, that's a bad start. He doesn't still treat you like equipment, does he?"

 

"I am equipment, Commander," Galley says matter-of-factly. "But he knows now what kind of equipment I am, and that is a considerably fucking pissier piece of technology than some dong-fondling tablet pc, thanks."

 

"Well, I mean, you're equipment in the sense that you have electronic elements and are hooked up to the ship, and in an important sense are the ship. But you're not equipment in that you have free will and agency. He can't be treating you like a robot, that's not cool. So if he's still doing it, I'm going to chew him out."

 

"We'll. Can we. Can we talk about this more later? I don't... know." He's starting to sound upset again. "I don't know about that shit. I don't think we should be talking about that kind of shit."

 

You pat your tablet gently. "Sorry, yeah, maybe not such a good time for it. Let's talk about... instead... hm. Oh, hey, it turns out Twitch likes running. I'm thinking maybe I can build a running track in the rec area where I put the climbing wall. Design it like a wilderness path with some hills and stuff, maybe."

 

"Hills are easy," Galley says. "Put in a geodesic dome, put sheet metal over it, then— the rest of the stuff. Gotta be hollow though. Wastes too much dirt otherwise. Talk to the Captain about it. " Diagrams pop up on Bel's tablet, and a few running video windows of Erskin as he drags heavy things around at different stages of landscape construction.

"Rocks are easy, though, we dock them like ships and grind them up for metal and water. Haven't done that while you're here but you'll probably see it when we get where we're going."

A video flickers to a recording of the mechanics and engineers pelting each other with slushy, filthy ice from a twisted hulk of stone and water. Erskin's on top of the thing, busy with some sort of bladed grinder that sprays dirty ice shavings everywhere: he's laughing his head off and angling the tool to better spray the brawling trolls below. Then the tool catches on something, bucks in his hands: he hits the deck hard, pouring blood down his arm from a long gash. Half the trolls rush over to tape him together and get him off to Medial. The others wrangle the jumping, whirling blade tool to turn it off.

The video window closes, and another pops up, of Erskin cheerfully wrestling tree frames into place. The cut from the previous shot's only a thin, scabby line, punctuated by half-dissolved stitches.

 

You watch the videos happily, murmuring comments from time to time to show you're still engaged and not falling asleep. The one where Erskin cuts his arm startles you, but it's nice to see how quickly the crew hurried to help him.

"You like him too, don't you?" you say eventually. "He's fun. I never thought I'd like a seadweller so much."

 

"I think the thing is he's not really a seadweller?" Galley says thoughtfully. "I mean like. When he came up he wasn't even a troll."

A video pop-up: Erskin, just barely ten, starveling small and boney, his skin brutally sun-mottled and scored with bright, thick scars. His hair is buzzed close to his scalp, his short horns shining with the gloss of a recent polishing. His fine Captain's uniform is askew, tattered, most of the braid and chains clawed off.

He's backed up in a corner of the docking bay, clearly panicking, a rattling murrr of a growl coming from between his bared fangs. When an unfamiliar officer in a Commander's insignia strides up, her hand out, Erskin turns terrified, red-crazed eyes on her and then bites, savaging the outstretched hand, yanking the troll close and sinking fangs into her throat— they go down in a heap, spraying cerulean blood everywhere. The video window closes.

"Not the most ceremonial welcoming-in of my Captains," Galley says fondly, "But definitely the funniest. I fucking hated Gloria, she was always trying to give me drugs. I think Lieutenant Gawker set her up for that fall. I hope Gawker lives to be a million sweeps, she can politic like a fucking demon."

 

"She is a treasure," you agree, though you're honestly a tiny bit disturbed by the idea of her using Erskin as an unwitting murder weapon to get rid of a career obstacle. Doesn't seem quite fair to him. "You said once that she was behind my transfer here. Did you mean just getting a new First Mate, or did she know about me in particular? I thought they tried to keep me from getting any publicity because, you know, you're not supposed to get hero pats for disobeying a direct order."

 

"Huh. I don't know? She wanted someone to pick up after the Captain and take some of the load off her own shit, I guess— she's who's in charge of things. All the things? All the other things? I guess there's a lot to do when you're that, I don't care. But there's only so many fuckups per season that might get sent here. She has Doumah keep an eye out. You had a good record. You fucked up in a fun way. So here you are. It's worked out."

He adds, shyly, "I'm glad."

((lainey's probably five sweeps older than erskin and maybe a sweep older than arguus. not a big gap by fleet standards. idk what she did to get sent to the sunslammer but the high officer turnover's equipped her and arguus to pretty comfortably run the place from the relative safety of their minor positions.))

((she does genuinely like erskin tho. that's not a front.))

 

You hug your tablet briefly. "I'm glad too. Even if I don't make it, even if I'm not the same person by the time the infection's done with me, I'm still glad I got to be here for a while and meet you and everyone. I feel like I belong here."

 

"You're going to make it," Galley says firmly. "Or else."

 

"Yes sir," you laugh, feeling something warm and pleasantly painful in your chest. "I got a bunch of cards to that effect, and I certainly can't let you down, so it's decided. I'm going to be okay." You sober slightly as you think of what it might take to make it, to fight for your survival as well as everyone's. "You can see medbay, right? You're watching over everyone? You can't let the... those things... you can't let them get at people. They'll be going for mouths and noses mostly, and the can be very hard to see. You have to watch."

 

"I--what? What things? Do you mean the medics...?"