4. Fostering #7
Reyna held her drink cupped in both of her hands.
Her legs were crossed with her feet were tucked under the chair.
Her shoulders were loose, her uniform left open with two buttons undone under her neck, and the effects of her drink swimming in her head.
She wasn't tracking the exits in this room, or seeking the comfort of corners with walls surrounding her back.
In fact, she hadn't done any of those things, especially in Borran's kitchen, for years.
This was one of only a few places on the ship where she let her guard down.
"Tell us about the names again," Elena asked, leaning on her elbows towards Jere.
Jere laughed. "Oh those humans and their naming conventions.
They're so simple! Like, almost offensively simple.
" Jere began talking with his hands again.
"First name." His left hand slammed down on the table.
"Family name." His right hand slammed down on the table.
"That's it! No lineage threads aside from their family name, but even those can change generation to generation.
But they have no ancestral markers, no sonic components.
It's just the two names. Sometimes three if they're feeling fancy," Jere added with a flourish of his hand.
"And you needed a human name for the mission, right?" Reyna asked. "Did the one we gave you work out?"
"Not at all," Jere said, his laugh cutting through the kitchen.
"'Obligatory Smith' made absolutely no sense on Earth.
The first and only person I said it to thought I was headed for a psychiatric facility.
Granted, if they knew the truth about me, that's probably where they'd send me, but that's beside the point! "
"Then what happened? What did you do?" Elena asked, her attention on the subject morphing her back into captain-mode, wanting to ensure the mission went off without a hitch.
"Well, when I laughed it off with the guy, I realized I needed something on the fly. Something that sounded right, but also ordinary, forgettable. By Earth standards, of course."
"So, what did you call yourself?" Reyna asked.
Jere sat back, grinning wide in a way meant he was about to enjoy this. Reyna knew this grin. It was the same one he wore when he'd saved the punchline of a story for the perfect moment, watching the fuse burn down before he dropped the twist.
She braced herself.
"Jerry Denton."
If he had expected any fanfare, he was sorely underwhelmed for all he was greeted with was complete silence from his best friends.
Then Elena made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a something that would require one of them to ensure she was still breathing. "Jerry? Just your name with a bit of an ‘ee’ at the end?"
"Yep. Jerry," Jere confirmed. "Short, simple, and easy to remember, while also being easy to forget." Jere winked.
"Very creative, Jerry," Reyna commented. She kept her voice flat. Precisely, devastatingly flat. The voice she used when Jere had done something that was simultaneously the most ridiculous and most endearing thing she'd ever witnessed, which, with Jere, was approximately twice a week.
"It has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Very human."
"It's ridiculous!" Elena shrieked, not being able to hold the laugh back any longer.
"What are you talking about? It's perfect," Jere insisted.
"You should have seen their faces when I introduced myself!
'Hi, I'm Jerry.' Just like that. Nothing more.
Nothing that required mouthfuls of air just to say every damn piece of my history to justify my existence!
" Jere chuckled again. "Just Jerry. And they accepted it immediately.
No one questioned it, not a one. Isn't that wonderful? "
And the truth was, it was, actually. It was simple. A name offered and accepted without scrutiny or pedigree. Reyna understood the appeal more than she wanted to admit.
"Jerry," Elena said again, shaking her head, her smile lighting up her face. "I can't believe I gave you a commission."
"Captain, with respect, I am a tremendous asset to this crew."
"You are a tremendous something."
"The humans loved me! I was very popular."
"As Jerry."
"As Jerry."
Reyna set her drink down. "If you come back from your next Earth mission calling yourself something worse, I'm revoking your landing privileges."
Jere beamed at her. "Noted. But you should know, I've already grown attached to Jerry. Jerry and I have been through a lot together."
"You were there for three weeks."
"Three transformative weeks, Rey."
"I'll put that in the mission report. 'Duration: three weeks. Classification: transformative. Addendum: subject has developed an emotional attachment to a fictional identity and may require evaluation.'"
Jere's laugh was so sudden and so loud that Elena pressed her hand over her mouth and Reyna sat there with her drink, expression immovable.
"I wasn't trying to be funny," Reyna stated.
"That's what makes it so!" Jere said, the laughter continuing to wrack his body.
From the counter, Borran spoke without turning around. "Foghorn."
Jere turned and looked at the Brontari's back. "Excuse me?"
"Foghorn," Borran repeated. "Nickname for you. Better than 'Jerry.'"
Elena snorted.
"You're giving me a... a nickname?" Jere asked, his voice a mix between confusion and elation.
Borran responded with a grunt while he continued to work his dough at the counter. Borran made no move to continue past the one grunt, ensuring that, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.
"Foghorn," Jere repeated softly, as if testing it and letting it roll around in his mouth. His eyes found Reyna, then turned to Elena, who, if you looked closely, was doing her absolute best to keep her shoulders from shaking softly as she stifled a laugh. "He's calling me Foghorn."
"I heard," Elena said, clearing her throat and then pressing her lips together.
Jere took a moment, his face thoughtful. "But why 'Foghorn?'" He asked. "Is it really because I'm... loud?"
"Well, Borran, I think the boy's figured it out," Reyna mocked, looking over at Borran behind the counter. Borran only stared at her with his same flat expression. Elena began attempting to hold her shoulders still again.
Reyna watched as Jere sat with the turn of events. Then, after a minute or so, he grinned, wide and proud and glowing. "I love it."
"Of course you do," Reyna said, but she couldn't keep the smile off her own face because, she had to admit, the name was perfect.
The kitchen did fully quiet soon after that. Jere pushed his Earth artifacts around the table, still talking, but gentler now. As the night winded down, all that was left between the three of them was the contentment of being here together, home.
Reyna watched Elena and Jere, Elena leaning back in her chair with her drink still in hand.
She looked tired but happy letting her guard down in the room where it was safe to do so for all of them.
And then she looked over at Jere, who was finally sitting still, the high of recalling his travels and fascination with the little planet on the outskirts of their travel space, tracing one finger along the edge of his peace sign.
She realized she was memorizing the moment. The specific warmth and these two people and the hum of a ship was learning, under Elena's command and Reyna's operations and Jere's heart, to become something worth remembering.
Borran set down a plate of the Brontari's famous Gula Cakes between them.
The dense, rich cakes made from volcanic grain flour native to Dunamar, the Brontari homeworld.
Jere reached for one immediately while Elena took one with the grace of one who would never admit how much she truly loved them.
Reyna reached out and grabbed one as well but held hers, looking over at the two of her best friends over the top of it, letting herself feel the full, unguarded weight of loving people who loved her back.
"Not bad," Elena said, catching Reyna's eye across the table. "For three cadets who skipped an icebreaker, huh Rey?"
Reyna smiled. Her real, genuine, compassionate smile. Because, yeah, it wasn't bad for three cadets who decided their calling was taking an old vessel and completely overhauling it to follow their passions and dreams. She didn't think anything could ever top that.