Prologue Day One #5
But Reyna knew this woman as her friend, probably her closest confidant on her ship.
Kess was the one who had treated Reyna after the worst year of her life.
The one who knew how much Reyna kept hidden now by watching how many walls the Captain had built going up, brick by brick, over thirteen years.
"Vondra assigned us three Aetherfin," Reyna said.
Kess's markings didn't shift. But her eyebrow did. "Three."
"In three weeks."
"And you're here instead of solving it because...?"
"Because I needed five minutes with someone who wouldn't ask me to solve their bread."
Kess laughed. A real one, short and surprised, and she pressed her hand to her mouth as though she could put it back. "Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "'Solve their bread.' That's a new one, even for you, Rey. I'm guessing it was Borran?"
"Vryx in the kitchen vent. He's been updating me every nine minutes."
"Has Cael handled it?"
"Cael categorized it."
Kess turned back to her diagnostic panel. "Ah."
One syllable, containing an entire performance review.
"Exactly."
Kess turned back around to face Reyna, eyeing her warily. "Do you need anything to help? Even just headache tablets?"
"No, that's okay." She breathed out hard enough that the tendrils of hair above her forehead danced against her skin. "Do you need anything Captain-y?"
Kess's mouth twitched. "No, Captain," Kess said, returning her attention to the diagnostic panel. "All good here."
"Perfect, then I can get that five minutes," Reyna said as she was about to lay down on one of the med beds, before Kess interrupted her.
"Five minutes? Captain, that bread won't save itself, and three Aetherfin won't just magically shrink to pocket-size for travel. I would say your five minutes are up."
"Really," Reyna said, one leg still hanging over the side of the med bed.
"Really really," Kess replied sweetly.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"You're right, I don't. But I hate that sometimes you're better at being a Chief Officer than my friend."
"Et tu, Brute?"
"Oh, don't you dare quote fancy literature at me now," Reyna snarked as she rose from the bed.
"It's not fancy literature. It's Latin, a language from the human race. It means 'and you?'" Kess taunted.
"Oh, even better. A language barely anyone in the Coalition knows being used against me by my best friend."
"Ah, see? You do love me."
"Bite me, Brute."
"Oh, I don't think that's Latin." Kess's voice followed her out, and Reyna could hear the smile in it. She walked down the corridor with Torvax falling into step on her right, her boots hitting the floor with a bit more force than strictly necessary.
"Your cortisol assessment?" Torvax asked, eyes on his datapad.
"She didn't run one."
"She did not need to. She completed it visually within the first four seconds of your arrival." He made a note on his datapad. "Habitat Wing is next. Two of the corridors for review, then the secondary lift."
"And how's my posture, Torvax?" Reyna asked dryly.
"Two point three degrees forward, Captain. Kess was correct."
Reyna rolled her eyes, but straightened her spine out of pure spite and kept walking.
Selowen's habitat report was, as always, the most peaceful part of Reyna's day.
The Kaelari-Brontari hybrid woman, a full six foot eight of unhurried calm, stood in the Forest Wing of the Emberkind's expansive animal habitation unit.
Her bright Kaelari markings, a much more earthy tone because of her Brontari biology, were pulsing gently as she observed a pair of Luminthra curled together in the Comfort Grove.
Torvax entered beside Reyna, his datapad already open to Selowen's pre-submitted habitat report.
He positioned himself two steps behind and to the right, close enough to log any updates Selowen provided but far enough to avoid disrupting the ecosystem.
He regarded the Luminthra, his expression seeming to catalogue a logistical consideration.
"The creatures are well, Captain," Selowen said. Her voice took three full seconds to form the sentence, each word arriving like it had walked a long distance to get there. "The Luminthra are sleeping more deeply since the humidity adjustment."
"That's good to hear."
"I adjusted it by one point four percent."
"And it made a difference?"
Selowen turned to look at Reyna. It took a moment, but she smiled, a slow unfurling that started at one corner of her mouth and arrived at the other about two seconds later.
"Everything makes a difference, Captain. You just have to notice."
Reyna felt her chest unclench, just slightly.
Selowen had that effect, not just on Reyna, but on the entirety of the crew and the animals she cared for.
As the Chief Animal Specialist aboard the Emberkind, she was the one person on this ship who made the universe feel unhurried, as though the Aetherfin and the Vryx and the three-week deadline existed in a different current of time that Selowen simply chose not to be swept up in.
"Thank you."
"Of course, Captain." A pause. "The Pyrralon Driftback also sends his regards."
"Does he?"
"He basked at you for three seconds this morning. For a Driftback, that is practically a declaration."
Reyna laughed. A real one, short and surprised. "Sounds like someone else I know."
"Torvax would be flattered by the comparison," Selowen said, her gaze looking over her shoulder at the First Mate in question watching over the Luminthra.
Reyna glanced back at Torvax. "Or horrified."
Selowen's smile completed its journey across her face at the warm sound from her captain. Behind them, Torvax's expression didn’t change. But he didn't dispute the comparison, either. Instead, he made a note on his datapad, and Reyna suspected it had nothing to do with the Driftback.
They left the Habitat Wing in the particular silence that always followed a visit with Selowen, as though the calm she cultivated clung to you for a few steps before the rest of the ship took over again.
"Humidity adjustment logged," Torvax said, updating his datapad as they walked. "Selowen's report is consistent with her submitted data. No discrepancies."
"Did you expect discrepancies?"
"No. But thoroughness requires verification regardless of expectation."
"And the Library?"
"Orion. Pyrralon migration data. He has been looking forward to this conversation for, by my estimate, several days."
"Then let's not keep him waiting."
"I suspect that would be impossible, Captain. Orion does not experience waiting the way others do. He simply reads until you arrive."
The Library was two corridors over from the habitat wing, tucked into a section of the ship that had been quiet since before Reyna took command.
It was a space that discouraged rushing, where the lighting was softer, the corridors slightly narrower, and the ambient hum of the ship seemed to settle into a lower register.
It was as if the Emberkind itself understood that this was a place for quiet and accumulation of knowledge.
Torvax followed Reyna inside, taking his usual position near the door, datapad ready. The Library was one of the few places on the ship where Torvax appeared to consciously reduce his presence, standing a few degrees stiller than usual for his ever-present efficiency.
Orion's desk was covered with datapads stacked in columns that should have been precarious and yet weren't. Physical texts from dozens of worlds, some bound, some scrolled, some in formats Reyna couldn't identify.
A cup of tea, still steaming, sat in the one clear space among the organized chaos, as though the chaos itself respectfully made room for it.
Orion looked up when she entered. Reyna took in his warm bronze skin as it caught the Library's soft light, his amber-honey eyes brightening at her approach.
She noted how his features were always broad and open, the kind of face that immediately made you want to sit and talk.
Today, he wore his dark hair pulled back, and his hands stilled on his datapad when she approached.
"Captain." His voice had that Veladris resonance, a quality in the timbre that was physiologically soothing, evolved from a species that had spent millennia calling to each other across island waters. Reyna always imagined it as the vocal equivalent of a hand on your shoulder.
"Orion. How's the archive?"
"Growing, as it should be. This new data I've been cataloguing on the Pyrralon migration that Selowen collected last quarter... what remarkable patterns." He leaned back in his chair. "But I imagine I may have new data soon?" He tilted his head at Reyna. "On three specific Aetherfin?"
Reyna blinked slowly. "You heard about that, did you?"
Orion nodded. "News travels fast on a ship like Ember, here." Reyna chuckled softly at that. "Anything I can help with in the meantime? Is the plan going to work?"
"The plan is still... theoretical, as of now," Reyna explained. "Tavi's working on the transition problem."
"Ah." Orion nodded. The nod was unhurried. "He'll figure it out. He always does."
"That's what Vondra said, too," Reyna replied, taking a deep, calming breath.
"Then it must be true." A small smile. "The Admiral and I rarely agree, but when we do, the universe tends to comply."
Reyna felt her shoulders relax. It happened every time she came to the Library, this particular unwinding that Orion's presence seemed to generate without trying. Kess was the friend who saw through her walls. Orion was the friend who made the walls feel less necessary.
He'd been aboard the Emberkind for twenty-five years.
Hired under Elena, when the ship was younger and the mission was still finding its shape.
He'd watched Elena, Jere, and Reyna work together in their prime.
He'd been there when Elena was lost and Jere left, when Reyna inherited a command she never wanted so soon, if at all.
He'd sat with her in those first terrible weeks and hadn't tried to fix anything.
He'd just stayed, and listened, and that had been enough.