Things Fall Apart: Chapter 20
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Bellerophon, Briefing Room
Singer had expected to feel perhaps a little delicate when she woke for the next Alpha Shift. Not usually one to indulge, let alone over-indulge, Singer found herself unexpectedly going drink for drink with Cadotte. Cadotte, in turn, was the last person Singer would have expected to have a hollow leg, with Alexander a close second in that regard. Alexander, for zir part, lived up to expectation, and nursed a single pint for kilos.
Perhaps because the indulgence had started relatively early in the cycle, and thus ended well before her usual sleep-shift started; perhaps because her anticipation for today's events was so high that literally nothing short of discorporation could have kept her from feeling buoyant; whatever the reason, Singer was almost chipper as she woke, showered, and donned her new uniform, freshly replicated by Chef before she asked for one.
Up until now, she'd been continuing to wear her communication officer's uniform, as well as her lieutenant's bar, just with an extra chop allowed for situations where junior officers out of touch with command found themselves in command of starships. Current events were not, after all, the first time disaster had struck a ship far from home. It was just the first time it had struck so many of them, all at once.
That thought sobered her a bit, as did the associated reminder that there was still a memorial to finish planning. She doubted she was—no, she knew for certain she was not—off the hook in that regard. Zephyr was going to require three megaseconds, give or take, to button up. If Zephyr had proven unworkable, Singer suspected those three megaseconds would have been spent finding some way to make Bellerophon capable of making at least one, if not two more trips, possibly with some hybrid of the new time compressor with her old one to speed things along.
All of this musing had taken place while Singer was getting used to the picture of herself in a proper command uniform. Not used to mirror-gazing, Singer nevertheless felt a need to make sure she had a good idea of how she presented herself.
Or maybe she just plain needed to get used to her own altered reflection.
Either way, she broke off to jot a note down on her datapad, which read, "Can Bellerophon be retrofit after we leave, assuming a crew?"
There was no question that the first thought in the commodore's mind right now was to get Zephyr crewed up and out of the system, but she was still only one ship. Other intact ships were present in the drydocks, but most of those under construction were further behind. Injured though she was, Bellerophon was a functioning ship. Could she be sent, perhaps, on some less time-sensitive missions, and cross items off the TODO list?
Put another way, Zephyr was a single, somewhat chancy basket to be carrying the only eggs.
Singer picked up the pad, then, took one last look at herself in the mirror, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and headed out.
She stopped by Dining, of course. She was feeling better than expected, but still needed some tea and some breakfast to face the briefing today. She had to keep herself from stopping short every time someone saluted her. The salutes had no irony in them whatsoever. Most people grinned or smiled or otherwise made it clear that their respect was truly felt. She returned the salutes, every time, and moved on, exactly as she'd seen Captain Blinovic and other past COs do dozens of times.
Her hope that her crew had gotten the need to make her actively blush out of their systems the previous cycle, however, was dashed when she entered Main Dining and Kasel, who had clearly been facing the door waiting for this moment, rose and boomed, "Captain on deck!" And the room, as one, stood and saluted.
Singer indulged herself with a "later for you" look at Kasel, clearly visible to everyone, before saying, "As you were!" The room broke out into cheers before everyone settled back down to their meals.
Grabbing her own from a replicator, she made her way to the table Kasel was perched at, looking smugly pleased with himself. She managed another half-hearted glare at him, which only made him beam the more.
Well, at least morale was high for the moment.
They ate in companionable silence. Alexander and Cadotte at some point each filtered in, grabbed their meals, and joined them. Cadotte, Singer saw, was looking a little more like Singer had expected to feel this morning, a bit like everything was just a little too loud. Singer found this particularly odd, since she knew Cadotte's augmentations gave them some measure of control over their sensory input. She decided to ask about it, and Cadotte made a wry face.
"I can't quite bring myself to deprive me of the full hangover experience I've very definitely earned. It's a little hard to explain, but...well, a lot of the time, I really don't feel very human. And a lot of the time, that's fine, because other humans are really kind of difficult. But sometimes, it bothers me. Right now, though, I feel very human, complete with a very ordinary human headache. I've got about two more kiloseconds to indulge the feeling before the briefing, so..."
They let it trail off there, but Singer nodded. It was, as they'd said, hard to explain, but Singer thought she got the edges of it, at least. At any rate, Singer trusted Cadotte not to let their current state impair their functionality when it counted.
Cordé came in, then, fresh off her shift as officer of the watch, and came over to the table. She gave a salute, as so many others had, perhaps a bit less effusive, but then, she was at the end of her shift, and was still expected at the briefing. "Captain, the commodore's shuttle reports itself en route, per schedule."
Almost, Singer wished they'd decided to hold this briefing over on Borass Station. The whole ritual of going down to the boat bay with a side party was getting a little worn at the elbows. Or maybe, Singer thought, I'm feeling just a little bit delicate after all. She'd already decided that they would use the briefing room down near the boat bay, as they had when the commodore had first come aboard after their arrival in Gliese-581, rather than trooping all the way back up.
Singer saw that everyone was pretty much done with their meals, anyway, so she said, "Shall we, then?" They disposed of their trays at the replicator stations, and headed down.