Salvation

Author's Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fanfiction story. The parts with Murdoch are in 3rd person, whereas the ones with my OC are written in the first person. I hope this doesn't cause confusion. I own nothing except for my truck, and I make no profit whatsoever.

Chapter 1: Sailing Day

7:00 a.m.

April 10, 1912. Sailing day. William Murdoch awoke, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a nervous excitement settling upon him. Today the RMS Titanic the grandest ship in the world, was set to sail on her maiden voyage to New York.

"Please let this day go smoothly," he sighed, putting on a white, sleeveless undershirt. Next came his wristwatch, a crisp, clean pair of trousers, and his boots, which he'd spent a good hour polishing the previous night. He was about to shave when there was a knock on the door.

"Will?" came the voice on the other side.

"It's open," Murdoch replied as he brought the razor to his face.

"Mornin' Will," Second Officer Lightoller greeted him as he entered.

"Oh, hello Lights. What can I do for you?" Murdoch turned briefly face his colleague and best friend.

"I wanted to wish you luck today, as you'll be on watch when we set sail."

"Ta," Murdoch replied, letting his Scottish accent show, "but I've been doing this for 16 years, today is no different." The last part was said mostly to reassure himself. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, praying he would not cut himself. How embarrassing that would be!

"Yes well, with all the media attention I thought it couldn't hurt," Lightoller said as he sat down in a chair.

Murdoch washed the excess shaving cream from his face before turning to retrieve a clean shirt. "'Unsinkable.' Can you believe that?" Murdoch scoffed as he buttoned up his shirt.

"It is rather ridiculous," Lightoller chuckled, "though not as much as our recent demotions." Lightoller's tone flattened as he remembered the previous day's fiasco.

"Aye," Murodch agreed as he put on his tie, "a load of bollocks that is. You and I are just as familiar with the Olympic's handling as he is. No use arguing it though, I reckon."

"Perhaps you're right," Lightoller sighed as he stood. "Fancy a coffee?"

"Yeah, I could do with a bit," Murdoch threw on his uniform jacket and hat, "...and perhaps a cigarette!"

Lightoller laughed as they exited Murdoch's quarters. He knew his friend often got to be rather cagey until they got underway, but this was the first time he'd known him to need a dose of nicotine beforehand. "I do hope you won't be pacing the bridge all morning, or I might need one myself!"

7:30 a.m.

I was jolted awake by someone banging on the door of my cabin.

"Regen!" the voice on the other side shrieked. "Aren't you up yet? You're due up on the bridge in half an hour!"

'Shit,' I thought, 'the last thing I'd need was to be late to a meeting on my first voyage!' "Yeah Richard, I'm up!" I hollered as I jumped out of bed. I hastily washed my face and threw on my uniform, nearly falling on my face trying to get my trousers on. Once dressed I flung open the door, and nearly ran my assistant over. "Christ, sorry Richard," I apologized as I steadied myself.

"You overslept again, didn't you?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," I sighed, "but don't tell anyone that."

"No worries. Coffee?" Richard held up a cup in front of him, a slight smile on his face.

"Ah, bless you, Richard," I sighed. I took it from him and took a sip, feeling the effects of the caffeine almost immediately.

Richard Landers was my best friend, having known each other since our teenage years. He'd been my rock throughout my professional endeavors, whether his duties required him giving me his shoulder to lean on, or a pep talk before assignments. He was a good man, and an excellent assistant, but damn if the man wasn't more spastic than I could be. Nevertheless, I was very glad, nay, relieved to have him on board with me.

"Are you ready to meet the rest of the crew?" Richard asked excitedly.

"Well, I'm a bit concerned as to how I'll be received, being female and all," I admitted. "Add to that this being my first voyage, and you've got a recipe for disaster." I downed the rest of my coffee and handed him the empty cup.

"Oh it'll be alright once they get to know you, and I'm sure the captain won't allow any funny business." He clapped me on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Right, well, I best be off. Wish me luck." I smiled at him. "Luck," he said, pulling me into a friendly hug.

I straightened my uniform and made my way to the bridge, the whole time trying to calm myself. Deep down, I knew Richard was right, the trouble was getting my stomach to believe it! Upon entering the wheelhouse, I saw the officers, and two men who I presumed were quartermasters, had already been mustered, but the meeting hadn't started yet. 'Oh good, I'm not late!' I thought. I calmly walked in, trying to call as little attention to myself as possible, and stood in an empty space between two officers.

"Haven't seen you around before...are you new?" asked the tanned officer to my right.

"Yes, I am," I answered as confidently as I could manage. "I was transferred to this ship just yesterday."

"Hmmph," the officer snorted, "they seem to be doing that a lot lately." His tone flattened as he eyed a rather tall man who, judging by the number of gold bands around his sleeves, was the Chief Officer.

"Lights!" hissed the shorter officer to my left. "Cut it out."

"Well it's true!" the other exclaimed.

"That may well be but we don't need you stirring up trouble," the shorter one replied.

"Right. Sorry. Charles Lightoller."Tthe tanned officer said as he extended his hand to me.

"Regen Schmidt," I replied, shaking his hand.

"And that there's William Murdoch." Lightoller pointed at the shorter officer.

"Welcome aboard," Murdoch smiled politely as we shook hands.

"Thank you," I said, nodding at him. So far, none of the other officers paid me any mind, more than likely because my overall outward appearance didn't scream "WOMAN!" I am not especially, er, well endowed in the chest, nor are my hips obviously wide. My hair was cut close to my head, as I can't be bothered with the level of maintenance that comes with having longer hair, and I opted for trousers instead of a skirt. How anyone could move efficiently in a skirt and heels in my profession is beyond me.

Our conversation was cut short as the captain, a man by the name of Smith who sported a very neat, white beard made his way onto the bridge. He was accompanied by the ship's builder, Thomas Andrews, and the director of White Star Line, Bruce Ismay. I had met both of them previously, though it became clear to me that Mr. Ismay and I would not get along. During our discussion of my new assignment, he seemed rather appalled that I had been selected to be the replacement. Mr. Andrews, on the other hand, seemed rather impressed with me.

"Good morning," Captain Smith greeted us, taking his place at the front of the wheelhouse.

"Good morning, sir!" we replied enthusiastically.

"Nice to see you all so awake this morning! I trust everyone slept well?"

"Yes sir," we replied.

"Very good." The captain placed his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "I've called you all together this morning to introduce two new members of our crew. They were both transferred from the Olympic yesterday. For those who haven't already served with him, allow me to introduce Mr. Henry Wilde." He gestured towards the tall man, who had by now migrated to the front of the wheelhouse as well, with his hand. "He will be our Chief Officer until we reach New York." I heard Lightoller make a strange coughing noise. "Is there a problem, Mr. Lightoller?" the captain asked, slightly annoyed.

"No sir," sputtered Lightoller, regaining his composure, "none at all."

"Good. As a result of this change, Mr. Murdoch has assumed the position of First Officer, and Mr. Lightoller that of Second. Mr. Blair has, unfortunately, been removed from the roster." I heard a few disappointed groans from within the ranks at this bit of news. Captain Smith continued, "I'd also like to introduce our new Master-At-Arms, Miss Regen Schmidt." Now it was I he was gesturing at. "She was selected to replace Mr. Bailey, who's wife has sadly taken ill. I trust you all will behave in a professional manner towards Miss Schmidt, as I expect nothing less." He seemed to glare at one of the quartermasters, as if warning him to mind himself.

"Miss Schmidt has been working security for quite some time," Mr. Andrews interjected. "Her dossier was rather impressive," he smiled, almost proudly. This seemed to satisfy the officers, as some gave slight nods of approval. Mr. Wilde, however, cast me a skeptical glance.

"Well I don't want to keep you all too long, there is much to do before we set sail. You are dismissed," Captain Smith told us. The officers broke up and, much to my surprise, came over to introduce themselves to me. Well, except for the Chief, but I assume he figured the captain had already taken care of that.

"Ah, Miss Schmidt," the captain called to me, "I'd like a word before you go."

"Of course, sir," I turned to face him. "What can I do for you?" I admit I was puzzled at to why he'd want to have a private word. After all, we'd already discussed my security plans for departure.

"Considering the general attitude society has towards working women, I thought I would mention that, should you have any trouble with the rest of the crew, don't feel that you must hold your tongue. As far as I'm concerned, you are just as much as member of this ship's crew as anyone else."

"Yes sir. I hope that won't happen, but thank you sir."

"As do I," he smiled. "You are dismissed."

"Aye sir." I turned on my heel and headed back to my office, pleased with how well things went. I also felt reassured that, even if the Chief Officer and Mr. Ismay didn't care for me, at least I had the captain on my side. I felt ready to take on whatever this voyage threw at me.