Part I
Chapter 1
"Mister Hawkins."
"Yes, Captain?" James replied, stepping off the ramp onto the deck of the Turquoise Ark, a member of the Royal Family's Jewel Navy fleet. Jim had been assigned to the delivery of Arcturian solar crystals by the Academy as his final assignment. After this, the step to first lieutenant was simply handing in his log books of the past two years.
"You remember Marty? First year, demoted to cabin-mate last month?" The spider-like woman, barely five foot high, didn't look up from her notepad. "His mother came down with something nasty and he's opted to stay with her instead of earning extra credits." She scribbled something down quickly. "Of course I had to replace him, and she comes with very high recommendations, and she's an experienced sailor. It shouldn't be too difficult to keep her busy, you don't think?" Again, she didn't wait for Jim to reply before disappearing into the crowd on the deck.
"Yes, ma'am," Jim replied to her retreating figure. Cabin mates weren't really assigned to anyone, but responsibility would fall to him if she messed up too badly. He adjusted his bag over his right shoulder, packed tight with clothes, a book, and his journal. The corner of one of the books had been jabbing into his side since he left. Once the corner wasn't digging into his side as much, he started for the stairs heading down to the sleeping area. There was a piece of paper nailed to the doorway at the top of the stairs. Further inspection showed that it was a sleeping arrangement chart. Perfect.
Jim found his name easily enough, on the first level. A footnote mentioned that each room had the names of the occupants on the door. Jim shrugged. Made it easier for him, however, a small, nagging voice told him to be careful of the control Captain Alcor seemed to want.
His loyal companion for the last two and a half years wondered out of his pocket while Jim descended the stairs, yawning sleepily.
"Good morning, you little squid." Morph nudged itself against Jim's cheek, babbling happily. Jim reached up and petted it gently on the head. "Ready for another adventure?" So far, the little shape-shifter had gone with Jim on every journey, even if it had to be smuggled aboard.
His attention on Morph, he walked into an unsuspecting figure coming around the corner. The head of the other person implanted itself into his chin and neck, tripping Jim up. Next thing he knew, he was on the floor.
"Ow, owowowowow," They muttered, clutching their head.
Jim sat up and rubbed his chin where their skull must have collided with him. He let a groan escape while he did a check for bruising. The bone was tender, both his jaw and his collarbone, but he doubted there would be a mark. "You okay?" he asked the hunched figure as Morph babbled around his hand, looking for injuries.
They swore before replying. "Yeah, just didn't see you coming down the stairs." Finally, they looked up, and he met a set of blue and purple swirled eyes. Dark skin and almost opalised short dark hair made their pastel eyes stand out even more. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah I'm alright." Jim looked her over. She was humanoid in structure, wearing a light-tan leather jacket and a pair of dirty grey-brown pants over a pair of black boots. "I should have been watching." He smirked at her, hoping to make it a laughable moment.
She smiled back, standing up. "I'm Myst Kone'on." She said, offering her hand.
Jim took it and she helped him up. "Jim. Jim Hawkins." He replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Myst combed her hair with her hand, setting it back in place: Spiked and messy. "You're the first mate, huh?" When Jim nodded, she continued. "Well then. Consider me reporting for duty, Sir." She mock saluted.
"You're the new cabin mate," he realize out loud. "Well, let me get settled in, and we can see what there is left to do. Maybe head to the galley? See if the cook needs any help before we head off." He suggested.
Myst nodded enthusiastically, bounding up the stairs.
Her eagerness left him feeling exhausted already, though he had just spend the last couple of hours on a loud and over-crowded shuttle up to the moon base.
His room was first to the left. There was another piece of paper nailed to the door, but unlike all the other rooms, he had the smallest and shared it with no one. He did, however, get a desk to work on. Which, if he remembered the plans of the ship correctly, none of the other rooms had.
Jim dumped his pack on the hammock, and started pulling out his things. He was wearing his formal uniform for the take off, so everyone would get to know his face. His casual uniform, for docking and meeting with lesser officials got hung up in the tiny closet next to the desk, as did his six sets of casual wear. 8 outfits in total should get him through if he mixed and matched shirts and pants between wash days. He hung his causal jacket, however, on the back of the door. The dark army-green cargo jacket had been with him all though his academy years, since he left his 'bad-boy' days, and his black jacket, behind him. He fished out his journal and pencil case from the bottom of the bag and placed them squarely on the desk, and the two books he brought he leant against the wall of the closet. Just small, homey touches made all the difference.
He knew, once they took off and artificial gravity was turned on, he'd have to come back in here and tidy everything up again, but it was nice making everything neat the first time. Who really cared about a second time?
Satisfied with his work, Jim left the room and started back up the stairs.