When I got to the galley, my mind was still buzzing. Mostly because I... wasn't exactly sure what I'd seen. The Captain had been perfectly horrid, but the First Mate had been... dare I say familiar?
Not only with myself, but with the Captain. Little jokes? Winks? Aside conversations? I'd definitely seen more than I probably ought to have – for all the First's apparent acceptance of my presence, the Captain still kept his cards close. What game were they playing? And what were the rules, exactly?
And what did this glimpse at their hands mean for my well-being?
Absently, I'd gone straight to wiping down tables, the room empty but for myself when I'd entered. I say absently, because when Cookie's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, I was holding a damp rag in one hand.
He chuckled at me, a silver ring in his left ear glittering in the fluorescent lights. "Care to join us, Doyle?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.
"Sorry, sir," I answered, sure a blush was creeping up my cheeks. "I was... lost in my own head, there."
He nodded, amused. "How was the Captain?" To my involuntary shudder, some kind of sadistic grin spread over his face. "Can't have been too bad. Kimchi always brightens up his morning."
"Yeah, he sends his regards." I gulped as I thought of the inhuman pleasure our Captain took over his ghastly soup.
Another dark chuckle from Cookie. "You didn't have any trouble getting it up to Officer Country?" Over his shoulder, I spotted a carrot top pretending not to listen in the kitchen.
"Actually, I asked for help," I confessed. Fact being far stranger than any fiction I could think up at that exact moment. "I called out to a passing officer, and the First Mate walked me through the lift at the end of the hall."
I'm pretty sure I heard Tim curse, but Cookie smiled. "That was good thinking, Doyle. You're depending on your crew mates – that's the right thing to do in a place like this."
I wasn't sure what he meant by that, considering we were bloodthirsty pirates if the tales were true, but he didn't explain himself. Tim hardly spoke to me as we prepared the crew's lunch – a hearty, creamy potato soup with fresh baked bread and cheesecake for dessert. As they trickled in, I found myself a bit intrigued by the diversity of the crew – watching them fill the galley reminded me so much of home, hanging out in the kitchen and admiring the bar flies. Some of them sipped coffee and read books, another working a log over a sandwich. There was a trio playing dice over here, and another circle playing cards. Everyone was wearing a ship suit, in some form or other, though they had different colours. I assumed there was a rhyme and reason to it that I'd figure out eventually.
I saw a lot of new faces as lunch wore on, and a couple of old ones. One in particular caught me by surprise.
"Hey, greenie," growled Rhea. Her blond hair was spilling over her bountiful bosom, which was hardly contained in a tan tank top, her ship suit half open, the sleeves wrapped around her waist. Her skin was a bright, freshly scrubbed pink, and her posture was unmistakable.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," I replied, forcing my eyes to focus on the soup I was ladling into a bowl for her.
"Call me Rhea," she told me with a wink.
I chanced a glance at Cookie, who was doing gods-knew-what in the freezer. I turned back to her, holding her gaze. The First Mate's words on the topic of rank flashed behind my eyes. "Maybe when I'm not on duty, ma'am."
"That's a date," she purred. She took her tray and sashayed away, far more than was likely natural.
It took me a long moment to pull my lungs out of my throat.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
I turned to Tim, who was serving a tired navigator who was muttering something about 'the West'. "Talking to me again," I noted.
"I'm serious," he said, his face supporting the statement. "I wouldn't mess with Rhea. She... plays rough."
I blinked. "You're kidding, right?"
He shrugged. "I'm just saying. She's in mechanics now, after all." A dark twitched his cheeks.
As I watched her take her seat, I took note of the powerful muscles in her arm and back... and realised he likely had a point. "I'll keep it in mind."
Before long, business slowed. I loaded a dishwasher and set it to run, and Cookie dismissed me.
"Go get some sleep," he said, spreading a fresh towel on the kitchen counter tops. "Be back at 1800."
I took away twelve. "1800 is six o'clock, right?"
Cookie nodded. "'Round here, everything runs on 24 hour time. Rest up."
I gave him an "Aye, sir," and 'shoved off'.
Dinner was not unlike lunch; the meal consisted of a small steak, steamed vegetables, rolls, candied yams, and an apple tart with ice cream for dessert. Cookie had everything already going when I got there, so all I really had to do was dress the buffet table.
Early on, a frail-looking girl with honeyed hair and hidden hazel eyes arrived in the galley, her fair complexion looking even more so in her black ship suit.
"Ah, Abigail," Cookie greeted her kindly.
The girl saluted. "Mr. Montgomery, sir. Here for the officers' meals."
"But of course, m'dear."
I watched her curiously as I wiped down a counter top. She was young, likely not even seventeen, and the hair was tied back into a tight tail at the nape of her neck. A stray tendril was floating over one brow, but she hadn't seemed to notice it yet. She seemed intent on watching Cookie serve four dishes, cover them, and then stack them on a tray.
"Here we are," he said with a big smile.
"Thank you, sir," she replied sharply, saluting him again before gathering the tray in her arms. I almost called out to assist her – her thin arms didn't look anywhere near strong enough to carry it all, and I half expected her to collapse under the weight – but something told me to hold my tongue. After a moment, she had the pile leaning against her small chest, and scuttled out of the kitchen. I watched her go, and turned to Cookie for some kind of explanation.
"That's Abigail," he said quietly. "She's the Captain's personal assistant, ferries messages and summonses around the ship. She usually brings the officers' meals." His mischievous twinkle returned as he gave me a wink. I glowered at him, but said nothing.
The dinner crowd was definitely the best turn out. Even the night shift folk were up already, and we were only missing the small handful of watch standers that were already retired for the night and those on the bridge. Abigail ducked back in to feed the navigator and communications specialist on duty near the end of the rush.
"Mr. Montgomery, sir. The First mate reminds you that you are due for a report at your earliest convenience."
"Aye, Ms. Abigail, thank you. Tim? Keep an eye on things. Doyle, you're with me."
I blinked, confused, as the cook shed his apron. "Sir?"
"Earliest convenience, Doyle. Means 'ASAP'. We don't test an officer's patience."
I finished the dish I was serving, and Tim called the rest over to his station. I ducked through the door after Cookie, and we made our way up the ladder.
I thought to myself how contradictory it was that, despite being told I was to never venture to Officer Country, I was climbing to the top level of the ship for the third time in less than twenty four hours. Cookie stood straight, hands behind his back, and I tried to copy his mannerisms – failing miserably in the posture and confidence departments. We stopped at a hutch, and I wondered idly how everyone knew what hatch was what. I only knew my birth because it was the middle of three on the opposite side of the hall from the galley. The galley and kitchen, because they were always lit from the inside. I made a note to myself to find a map or something before I tried to explore. Cookie rapped on the door with a handsome "shave and a haircut." But no one answered.
"Nobody's home," he noted, almost with amusement. In the light, that ring caught my eye again. "I suppose the Captain wants to hear my report, too."
Something dropped into the pit of my stomach. The Captain again? I cursed my rotten luck as Cookie led the way to the bridge. There was faint chatter coming from the open hatch as we approached.
"...We've only the three extra hands at present – Rhea's taking over for Max. Doyle for Jeremy. Mind, with the way Scott's going..."
The First Mate was speaking with the Captain. His back was toward me, his jacket on his shoulders, and I could just see her behind him. My eyes caught those green fingers, entwined together in a loose clasp he gave a sharp nod.
"He has two strikes..."
But he must have heard us, because his head quickly turned about, and suddenly those yellow eyes were on me. I felt my mouth go dry as I realised just how far his neck could stretch without the rest of him moving. It was like some kind of snake, and I'm sure my eyes bugged out.
Cookie stepped before me and stood straight, a hand in a tight salute. "Montgomery reporting as ordered, Captain!" I quickly saluted as well, but a mouse had run off with my voice. The Captain's lip curled.
"Ah, Montgomery. And Doyle." His body joined his face in a silent, fluid motion, and the First took us in as well. He looked to her. "Have I been keeping you?"
"Forgive, Captain. Montgomery owes me his report on the greenie." She smirked at me then, and I suddenly found the otherwise fond nickname exceptionally awkward with the present company. For his part, the Captain moved away.
"Would you like the report here or in private, Mistress?" Cookie asked, still at attention. I kept the stance, too.
She seemed to turn herself ever so slightly. "At your discretion, Montgomery." Although the Captain had his eye on the bridge, I swear I saw his ears spying on us.
Cookie dropped the salute and I shadowed. "Doyle is a ready and willing man, Mistress. He's shown humility and quick thinking when problem solving, and obeys authority without question. He learns easily and is quick on his feet. In fact, I almost feel bad keeping him in the Galley, Mistress. If you have nothing else for him to do, I'll keep him, but I think he can do better than cleaning tables." He punctuated it with another salute and, "Mistress."
I blinked at the cook, then looked to the First Mate. Her face was still, and I saw her steal a glance at the Captain, who'd listened to the report without twitching so much as a jeweled ear. The First Mate nodded sharply.
"Thank you, Montgomery. You're dismissed."
"Aye, Mistress."
I glanced quickly between them both – Cookie tossed me a wink (which terrified me) and the First Mate was gazing at me. Not knowing what else to do, I lifted a hand in a shaky salute.
"Mistress," I said, hardly keeping my voice steady.
"You can stand down, Doyle," she said quietly. I hesitated, not entirely sure what all that meant (Could I go back?), so I asked.
"Stand down, Mistress?" The Captain's head turned to listen, ever so slightly.
"You can let go of your salute," she explained. "And your attention. That's the... posture." Her lips twitched every so slightly.
Stand down. I forced my body to relax, and looked back to the Captain. Even though his back was turned on me, all black and green, with only a kiss of yellow on his wrists, I had the unsettling feeling that he was watching me, despite my own eyes telling me that his long-eared skull was between me and those glowing orbs.
"What do you think, Captain?" I looked to the First Mate, but her face was the same as before, her honeyed eyes resting on her pet's skeletal frame. I saw him turn his head to her, but I couldn't see his face.
"Sounds like Montgomery sees promise in our young Mr. Doyle," he said after a long moment. "I've voiced my desires as far as personnel. You know the crew. I trust your judgment." With that, he returned to the helm, padding silently on those grotesque green toes. I tore my eyes from the dark familiar and back to the First Mate, feeling for all the world like a felon facing his sentencing. Her golden eyes returned to mine, and she, too, seemed to be scrying into my soul.
"Report back to Montgomery, Doyle. I'll find you a more... appropriate birth."
I shifted uncomfortably. "Ah, Mistress?"
She raised an eyebrow at me.
"Is there... any way I could get a ship suit? I've been wearing these clothes for two days, Mistress."
This time, it was the Captain who laughed – a low, throaty 'heh heh heh heh' that made the First smile. In a flash, he was facing me, those devilish lips peeled back to show glittering pearly whites.
"Gale!" he barked. It was a pregnant moment before the honey haired girl from the kitchen run appeared, her thin frame wrapped in a black ship suit, looking so much like the angelic side of the Captain's coin.
"Captain?" she greeted, sharp at attention, like she had been with Cookie back at the galley.
"Take Doyle down to Alice. Get the boy a ship suit." He moved those yellow eyes to me. There was a dark pleasure in his eyes that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Make it blue," the First Mate added. She looked to the Captain, and he nodded.
"Aye, Captain." she bowed to the First as well. Mistress." I gave a salute as well, and followed the messenger out of the bridge.
Great, now what? I thought wildly to myself. Who was Alice? What did a blue ship suit mean?
And why did I get the feeling I was going to be back in Officer Country very soon?
