8. Ascension #2
Reyna interviewed them, sometimes bringing in members of the staff she trusted.
She interviewed diligently, but part of her was breaking every time she met a new candidate for the position of Chief Animal Specialist, or First Mate.
These people would be filling gaps left by Elena and Jere, in their presence, not just their career.
And Reyna was not interested in believing things that weren't true.
These new crew members would, undoubtedly, stand in different spots and conduct different work, and they would, of course, bring different skills.
But they could not bring back the sound of Jere singing off-key in the corridors, or the way Elena leaned back in the captain's chair with one leg crossed over the other.
And they especially could not bring back the feeling of walking onto the bridge and knowing, without even looking, that the two people who understood her best in the entire universe were there.
So she went through the interviews, working through candidates and asking about their history, skills, and experiences. And she found the best individuals to fill the open positions.
Kess Pheras was the first to be interviewed, being invited to their docking bay on Concordia to interview. But Reyna knew within ten seconds that she'd found her new Chief Medical Specialist.
Her credentials were immaculate, sure, and her clinical manner, though it was precise to a degree that bordered on architectural, was beyond impressive. Any qualified doctor would have earned the posting. But what told Reyna she'd found the right one had nothing to do with qualifications.
Kess was Kaelari from Aurevia, just like Reyna.
But her markings held at a cool, deliberate silver-blue that Reyna recognized immediately.
These were not the warm gold of contentment that most Kaelari carried at baseline, just like Reyna did.
And they certainly didn't show the dim of suppression fatigue, either, much how Reyna looked right now as well.
But Kess seemed to have mastered a deliberate, practiced middle ground that clearly voiced that her patients' sense of safety mattered more than her own comfort.
The silver-blue reminded Reyna of Elena's purple, another Kaelari who had mastered a difference in their baseline, showcasing their specialties about their cultural norm.
Elena's, Reyna had come to understand, held Elena always ready and able to lead, serve, and direct those who depended on her to safety.
Hadn't that been what she'd done in the moments before she disappeared?
Any species could have shown that kind of professional discipline, and many probably did.
But only another Kaelari could have shown it in a way that meant it was engrained in the very makeup of their existence and was communicated in a language Reyna read fluently.
The silver-blue wasn't why Reyna hired her.
The silver-blue was why Reyna trusted her before the first physical was even over.
And so, she did.
Two weeks later, Kess came onboard the Emberkind as its new Chief Medical Officer.
The standard intake procedure for the role was to run baseline scans on the commanding officer, working to establish that medical relationship and begin the data file that would track Reyna's biology for as long as Kess served aboard, along with the rest of the crew.
Reyna sat on the examination table while Kess ran the entire scan with steady hands and steadier markings. That silver-blue, unwavering and professional, kept Reyna informed of everything happening in the physical without words.
And Reyna, for the first time in months, allowed her composure to shift.
In the presence of another Kaelari, the shift of composure told so much more than words ever could, and standing next to her was someone who understood what Reyna' gold at baseline cost. Without words, Reyna gave her new CMO all the information regarding the medical stability of her current mental state.
And somehow, that made it so much easier, loosening something in her chest that she hadn't known was locked.
She watched as Kess looked over her readings, most likely noting the raised cortisol and all of the markers noting disrupted sleep. She was certain her stress indicators were consistent with prolonged grief and insufficient recovery time.
Kess looked up from the data readings, really eyeing Reyna for the first time since her hire.
"Tough couple of weeks?"
Reyna actually scoffed. "More like a year," she admitted, surprised at the ease she felt conversing with Kess.
Kess nodded slowly, turning her eyes back to the datapad. "Should I be concerned?"
Reyna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting her chin drop. "I don't think so. Just... time." She was met with silence long enough that Reyna looked back up at Kess to see the doctor staring at her.
"I'm going to schedule you for weekly sessions with me."
Reyna jolted. "I don't know if that's necessar—"
"That wasn't a request. It's a prescription. From your doctor," Kess enunciated. "That is what you hired me for, isn't it, Captain?" Reyna watched as the woman raised one eyebrow at her slowly, almost inviting her to challenge the statement.
Reyna suddenly realized she may have met her match. And that felt... friendly.
She nodded once.
"Satisfactory," Kess said, and returned to her datapad.
Reyna heard what she meant in that word. I see what this is costing you. I'm not going to make you explain. But I am going to do everything within my power to help you heal.
The next week, Reyna began having sessions with Kess, and though it felt wasted in the beginning, the sessions eventually became a place to talk about the areas of loss and grief that wouldn’t go away, despite Reyna's constant chipping at them.
Kess never told her to hurry up or get over it.
Instead, she provided her tools to work through it on her own, at her own speed, which was the greatest gift of all.
And, in the process of these sessions, Reyna began to consider Kess a friend, a word neither of them ever once said because Kaelari women from Aurevia did not need to say it out loud to know it was true.
Torvax was hired directly through a military transfer, arriving with a single duffel and a posture so rigid that Reyna privately suspected his spine had been built in a factory.
He presented himself in her office, delivering a report of his qualifications in a precise and exact manner.
He only used the number of words required and none extra on his paperwork, and stood at attention the entire time Reyna read the documentation.
With blue-gray skin and pale eyes that assessed everything, Torvax reminded her of a security camera.
A member of the Droven species, Reyna knew Droven expressed devotion through decades of showing up while not experiencing romantic attraction at all.
They were exact, deductive, and could lead whole armies to victory on efficiency alone.
But what caught Reyna's eye was the veins under his very skin that shone brightly through.
In a way, he was beautiful, comprised of the allure of space.
"You're very quiet," Reyna said after finishing her read-through of his overall qualifications.
"Quiet does not mean lack of efficiency, Captain. Efficiency is not a skill. For Droven... for me... it is a disposition."
She looked at him for a long moment and he looked back without blinking, holding her gaze. He did it without any indication that he had just said something that might, in a different context, have been funny. Reyna smirked up at him, causing his expression to morph into confusion.
"You'll do," Reyna said.
"Thank you, Captain?" Torvax replied, and this time, Reyna really did laugh, making Torvax's confused expression only deepen.
And that was the beginning of Reyna's new Droven First Mate keeping her lined up with the ship's needs.
He fell into step beside her the next morning and, frankly, never left.
He always appeared at her door with a datapad every morning, ready and waiting for rounds.
Reyna saw him with the silence of someone who had decided he intended to occupy his role until the ship ceased to exist, possibly even after that.
But somehow, he too took notice that Reyna was grieving. He didn't tell her this directly. But, on that first day, Torvax led Reyna to the Observation Room on the third deck.
"You have fifteen minutes," he said.
"Fifteen minutes?"
"Correct, Captain."
"For... what?"
"'Me' time." And then he indicated with his hand the empty Observation Room.
She looked up at him, but his eyes stayed stagnant, as they always did.
So, instead, she walked through the door, and heard Torvax close it gently behind her.
He had given her fifteen minutes alone with the stars before starting their rounds.
And though he didn't say it, Reyna knew what it was meant to be.
A deep breath before starting the day.
From then on, every morning before they began their days on the bridge, Torvax would give her fifteen minutes to herself, to process whatever it was she needed to that day. And he gave it to her like clockwork.
Efficient.
The Emberkind welcomed three additional crew members in their time at Concordia, making their skeleton crew a fully functioning group of leaders and workers.