Rylae's Storm

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Rylae's Storm Page 11

by S T Xavier

CHAPTER TEN

  The good thing about sandwiches is that even the mess staff can’t screw them up. It’s easy to just throw some meat and cheese and vegetables between two slices, maybe add some sauces and spices, and eat it with some salad. The bad thing about sandwiches is we don’t have any decent bread. There’s no way to bake fresh bread for six hundred folk in the confines of a starship. So our sandwiches are on crackers instead of bread. I personally see nothing wrong with that, but I do get complaints from the crew on occasion. At least it has flavor, which is more than I can say about some of the stews the mess staff has created.

  I grab my sandwich from the server line and walk over to one of the tables in the corner of the mess hall. I try to eat in here as often as I can, both to be accessible to the rest of the crew and to make the point that I’m not any better or more privileged than they are. I know there are a lot of senior officers who eat in their offices or their quarters, but I find that to be very unfriendly. Senior officers should be role models for their crew, and I try my hardest to fulfill that. Cap would probably be down here as well, if he didn’t have an admiral on-ship to spend time with.

  I take a seat at the corner table by myself. The mess hall isn’t very busy right now, with only a dozen or so folk here. It’s a little late for lunch, and still early for supper, but different crew members have different shifts so the mess hall is always available to grab a bite. It certainly fits my schedule that way. I never know when I’m going to be hungry, or when I’m even going to have a chance to eat.

  “Commander. Would I be imposing if I was to sit with you?”

  The voice startles me. I sit in the corner so I can see everything and everyone that’s in the mess hall, but I was completely engrossed in tearing my sandwich apart. Yes, it’s weird, but I’m a picky eater. I like to eat some of the sandwich parts before others. There’s nothing wrong with that! Besides, sometimes the mess staff puts very strange things between those two crackers. It’s much safer to tear it apart than to just eat it blind.

  I look up, and Admiral Shockpaw is standing across the table from me with a sandwich on a tray. I’m surprised enough that he’s here in the mess hall, but I’m really surprised he has a pre-made sandwich. Admirals have their own staff for a reason. I fully expected him to have his own food in his own quarters. But here he is.

  I gesture towards the chair across from me. “Please, Admiral. You’re most welcome. “

  “Commander. I thank you for your hospitality.” He sets his tray down and takes a seat in the chair.

  I turn back to my sandwich and finish picking the pieces apart, then look back to the Admiral. He carefully twists himself around in his chair, a small segment at a time, until he appears comfortable with the angle he’s sitting at. Next, he moves the tray a little bit to the left, then the right, then straightens it so it’s in line with both his chair and the table. Once he’s done with the tray, he slowly starts organizing the items on it – the sandwich is slid slightly to the left, the mug of ale is moved slightly to the right, the mug is turned slightly so the handle is exactly lined up with the top of the tray, the silverware is lined up precisely… this continues for a bit of time, and the Admiral is completely engrossed by getting everything just right.

  I try not to stare. I also swallow anything I want to say. Now doesn’t seem like the proper time for small talk. With the attention he’s showing to his process of aligning all of his items, I’m not completely sure he’d hear me anyway. I stuff a piece of lettuce in my mouth and chew.

  A couple of minutes go by before the Admiral looks over his tray and appears satisfied. He rubs his hands together, then sets them down on each side of the tray and smiles, looking at me. “Commander. May your meal fuel the vengeance in your soul.”

  I raise my mug in salute of the goblin meal blessing, and speak the response: “May yours stoke the fire of your marauding spirit.”

  Admiral Shockpaw raises his mug, and we both take a drink. I set mine down, and he carefully replaces his exactly where it previously sat. We each start on our food, knowing we’re not going to speak again until we’re done. Once the meal blessing has been spoken, there’s nothing more to say until everyone has finished eating. Goblin meals are serious business.

  I pick at the pieces of my sandwich. I may be strange, but I especially love the crackers. They’re a dwarven recipe, and I think they’re much more flavorful than elven flat bread. I suppose that’s not quite as important to someone who eats the entire sandwich without taking it apart first, but it’s definitely important to me. I always finish a cracker first, then leave one for last so I can savor them. That’s a sandwich to me – a meal eaten between two crackers, across time instead of physical distance.

  Occasionally I glance back up at the Admiral, but his entire attention is on his food. I’m not normally bothered by close attention, but the way he was staring at me the last time we were together was just unsettling. I had a bit of a fear he was following me or something. I’m glad it was just my half-asleep mind that put together that conspiracy theory. The Admiral seems to be very… specific… about certain things, and I’m glad I don’t seem to be one of those things.

  Finished with my sandwich, I grab my spoon and dig into my berries and cream dessert. If you ask me, one of the greatest things ever invented is the walk-in icebox. The cold spell which keeps the unit at a low temperature uses very little mana, and the unit works on its own battery. The battery has a life span of twenty years of constant cold before it has to be replaced. The ship’s pantry contains twenty of these, allowing us to keep plenty of perishable foods like meats and cream. We also have plenty of salted meats and such that don’t require cold storage, but it’s always nice to have some standard on-world foods as well. Berries and cream is one of those little luxuries we can have in the starfield to make us feel like normal on-world travelers.

  Once the dessert is filling a happy place in my belly, I sip my ale and spend some time looking around the room. I think the appearance of the Admiral scared off everyone else in the hall, and they may have told their friends about it, because we’re now the only two folk in the entire place. This is unfortunately one of the problems with trying to appear like a normal member of the crew to everyone else – it doesn’t quite work for Admirals. That’s why they have a separate section of the mess hall.

  Thinking about it again, though… the Admiral’s security staff isn’t in the mess hall. They’re probably standing outside of the doors. If they’re outside of the doors, they may not be letting anyone past them into the mess hall. They may also have ‘coerced’ crew members already here into leaving. That’s a problem, and I won’t let it happen twice. That is, if it’s happened. I’ll wait to verify before I confine the Admiral’s security staff to quarters for the rest of the trip.

  Admiral Shockpaw makes a sound, so I turn to him. Finished with his meal, he wipes some crumbs from the corners of his mouth with a gnarled green thumb, sighs contentedly, and takes a sip of ale from his mug. “Commander. That was a truly excellent meal. Please share my satisfaction with your mess hall staff. A long time has passed since I was last on a ship, but I don’t remember off-world food being this good.”

  I nod and smile. “Thank you, Admiral. I’ll pass that message along to the crew. They work very hard to keep us fed well. But, I am surprised that they didn’t bring a specially-prepared meal to your quarters or to the VIP area. Was there something we didn’t have available for you?”

  The Admiral opens his mouth to say something, then looks around the room. He closes his mouth carefully. A sadness appears in his eyes, and he tries again to speak. “Commander. In fact, I wanted to come to the mess hall and have a meal like a normal member of the crew. It has been so long since I have travelled on-ship that I am not accustomed to the VIP area or having special meals in my quarters. When I saw that you were sitting here, I simply assumed everything was norma
l. Now, however, I believe my appearance has scared everyone away. I’m terribly sorry for that.”

  At least now I know it wasn’t intentional! I should still say something to his security staff, though, since this is likely to happen every day. But how do you accept the apology of an Admiral who didn’t mean to scare away your crew? My job can be so strange at times. I smile and shake my head. “Please, Sir, don’t let this bother you. The crew wasn’t expecting you here, and likely assumed I had asked you to join me. I’ll be sure they know we didn’t intentionally plan to frighten them, and that they have no reason to run if you want to have meals with them in here every day.”

  A smile appears on the Admiral’s face. “Commander. I thank you for this. I know many admirals in the UCST prefer to be treated with a certain respect and privilege. There have been many times on Terra and Stenchstone where I enjoyed that respect and privilege. However, this return trip to my old home after so many years has created a nostalgic feeling in my soul. The last time I was on a ship, I received no respect and privilege, as I had no rank. Part of my soul wanted to recapture that feeling.”

  No rank? So the last time he was on a starship was before he became an Admiral, meaning… after he gave up the crown of King Damnation. Forty years! He hasn’t been on a ship since before I joined the Academy! I have to know. “Admiral Shockpaw, Sir… do you mean to say that the last time you were on a starship was when you last left Stenchstone forty years ago?”

  His eyes lock onto my face. That’s the same look he was giving me the other night, like he’s trying to see something hidden behind my nose. “Commander. Captain Darkmuck and Captain Gravelhand have both been very correct in their assessments of you. I am pleased and grateful that you deserve their high praises. I see you have done your research on me, and you are correct. When I left Stenchstone, I had nothing – no rank or staff. I travelled to Terra as a noncommissioned crew member, helping with the inventory of the battalion’s weapons. When I arrived in Admiralty City, the UCST was kind enough to offer me an Admiral position, and I have been on Terra since that day. This will be the first time I have traveled to my homeworld since that day.”

  Forty years, and he’s never been home. I love the UCST Corsari, and it is absolutely one of my homes. However, the city of Corsari on Tir Tairngire, which the ship is named after, will always be my true home where I was born and raised, and where my parents still live. I couldn’t imagine being gone from there for forty years. I wonder what his reasons are… but he’s still my superior officer and I’ll never actually ask him questions like that.

  I grab my mug of ale and raise it. “For the Corsari and its crew, I am honored to be the ship to return you to your homeworld after a long time away. Until such time as you depart, the Corsari will be your home, and the crew will be your family.” It’s a modified elven blessing of transitional family. I don’t know of anything in goblin culture that would be similar to it, but I don’t appear to need to worry as Admiral Shockpaw also raises his mug and shares a proper response.

  “Commander. I am honored to join this family, however temporary it may be. I will be your kin from this moment on, and will forever remain your friend after we part.” We tap our mugs against each other, and take a long drink.

  I set the empty mug on my tray and look at the Admiral. It seems some goblins can still surprise me. Shockpaw is definitely strange, and has some quirky bits, but he also seems genuinely nice. In fact, he reminds me a bit of another young goblin I know. In fact again…

  “Sir, I have a question for you. Do you know of a family by name of Gloomfire? They work for the royal family on Stenchstone.”

  He smiles again, and turns to the right to look at the door of the mess hall. “Commander, indeed I do know of the Gloomfire family. I also know of young Lieutenant Gloomfire who is currently on your ship, although he likely does not remember me as well as I remember him. Lieutenant Gloomfire’s mother, Bmundn Gloomfire, is a seamstress for King Damnation. She makes the most beautiful chest pieces and capes. I do hope the Lieutenant has the opportunity to visit while we are on-world, and that his caregiver woman does not leave him chained in her laboratory for the entire time.”

  Did the Admiral just make a joke about Sen and Zaxn sleeping together? Did Cap tell him that, or did he find out while researching the nerdy science kid who he last saw as a youngling? I know how to handle those comments from Cap, but I have no idea how to handle them from an Admiral!

  I don’t even know how to begin to respond, so I think I’m going to deflect instead. I gather my dishes and tray. “Admiral. I’m sorry to have to cut this short, but I have a meeting soon to discuss mission security measures with my Master Sergeant and Chief Ambassador. May I collect your tray for you?”

  He looks back at me with very friendly eyes. “Commander. Thank you for clearing my table. I truly appreciate it. Also, thank you for your wonderful company during the meal. I hope we can do this again on another day.”

  I collect his tray and stack the pieces together with my tray. “I’d be happy to share a meal with you again, Admiral. Your yeoman can call my communicator any time. Thank you for the company and conversation, Sir. If you’ll please excuse me?” He nods, so I walk over to the tray replacement area and sort out dishes and cutlery into separate containers. My hands now empty, I walk to the door and turn back to the Admiral, snapping into a full salute. He raises his hand to salute back, and I touch the door charm to open it.

  In the hallway, the admiral’s security goblins are on each side of the opening, and a number of folk from the crew have gathered to get in. I turn to the goblin on my left. “Security Officer, if you please.” He turns to me, and I continue, “I will make new security arrangements with the Admiral concerning his desire to spend meal times in the Mess Hall with the crew. However, you must let other folk use the Mess Hall as well. Please take positions directly at the Admiral’s table, and not outside the doors of this hall.”

  I turn my eyes to the crew in the hallway and spot two members of security who also happen to be goblins. “Officer Oozemuck. Officer Miredancer. I apologize for taking you away from your meals, but please take up posts at the door where these two currently are. Verify each crew member that enters the hall, and explain to them that the Admiral is a welcome member of our crew and should be treated as such. Also inform them that the Admiral has his own security team, and not to approach the Admiral’s table suddenly. I will talk to Lieutenant Commander Axesmith immediately about a permanent detail at this door and see you properly relieved.” The two goblins salute and walk to the Admiral’s security goblins, who walk inside to take up closer positions by the Admiral.

  My crew members in the hallway immediately look relieved. They also look hungry. Without any further speeches, I wave them towards the doors and turn towards the stairs to level three, which contains the Security and Battalion offices.

 

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