He sipped his coffee, looking out the window. Beside the door stood a member of the Royal Escort sent to bring him and his crew to the palace. It was infuriating. He was never alone unless in his chamber; and even then he suspected they had some peculiar method of watching him. Damn Imperials. They were getting smarter and smarter every year. He never disclosed it to anyone but his wife, but he feared that one day they might catch up with Procyon's technology, which, for so many years, had been their upper hand against the Terran's insufferable brawn.

He glanced at the brute watching his door and then back out his window, then to the communicator built into his desk. He ran his hand along the eggshell top before flipping it open, staring at the golden inside, black Procyon script staring back at him. He smiled, glancing again at the guard, who was staring like an owl at a particularly entrancing piece of navigational equipment. Perfect. He leaned forward, pressing one of the buttons. A man appeared on the screen moments later, a red bandana tied around his short cropped brown hair.

"Your orders?" He typed on his keyboard, the words appearing on the screen. His lips curled in grotesque satisfaction as he typed in the coordinates.

"Come in." Amelia mumbled, scratching her head as she addressed the paperwork before her. Clement walked in, holding two steaming lattoids.

"Mister Hawkins recommended I bring you something to drink, less you uh, "flip a bitch"." He said rather lightheartedly, putting the mug on the small desk that felt as cramped as the student dorm Amelia had been confined too.

"Ah. He's always very considerate. Thank you." She nodded to him, giving him a slight smile. It'd only been a few weeks since she met Clement and, aside from his looks, he was a remarkable first mate.

"You're welcome." He smiled and turned to leave.

"Oh must you?" She lifted the lattoid to her lips. Clement turned around, raising an eyebrow at her. "I'm not completely anti-social, Mister Clarkson." She smiled a bit. He returned it. "Neither am I, Madam." He took a seat on a chair that was beside her desk, sipping his lattoid. He looked at her paperwork and frowned.

"That looks painful."

"It is." She sighed, rubbing her face, realizing she hadn't put on her damned reading glasses. She put them on at that moment, looking back at the paperwork and slowly writing on it as she spoke. "The higher up you get, the more blood you have to give."

"Dark." Clement raised his eyebrows. She gave him a soft smile. "I'm just tired."

"We all are, Madam." He nodded. "I haven't slept in three days."

"Three days?!" Amelia put down her paperwork. "Why the hell not?"

Clement looked startled. "Stress, ma'am. I'm...well I'm worrying about this bloody war."

"How old are you again, Mister Clarkson?"

"38, ma'am."

"Oh, well surely you'd been through it before. Insomnia is commonplace for a first timer, but for someone the same age as me-"

"I haven't been in the military service that long, ma'am." He interrupted, leaning back. "At least, compared to you. I only just joined ten or more years ago."

"...Oh." Amelia felt rather sheepish. She should have spent her time staring at more than his face when looking at his profile. "Your credentials alluded me to believe you were many more years into your service."

He looked at her, and smirked. "It says my years of service right under my picture, ma'am. In big bold print."

"Ah, must have, heh, missed that." She cleared her throat and went back to her paperwork. Clement chuckled. "You can be very amusing, ma'am."

"Well..." Amelia tried to think of some sort of witty comeback. For once, she was at a lost. She turned to him. "Damn you."

He grinned. "Thanks. You're so kind."

She growled and drank from her mug, the warm liquid soothing her. "Oh, nevermind. Why'd you join?"

"The military? To support my family."

Damn. They're always married. Amelia felt like smacking herself when she remembered that she, too, was married. Not an option. Stop Amelia. Bad girl. "Ah, so your married?" She smiled. Clement frowned a bit. "I was, ma'am."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Heh, yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She died in...our, well our home...caught on fire. We were living in one of the quarry towns and...someone lit a match and...woosh. Flames. Everywhere. The whole town was taken out. Just ash and bones..."

Amelia felt her heart ache, imagining such devistation coming upon her own family while reaching over and somewhat awkwardly placing a hand on his, which rested on her desk. He blinked as she squeezed it in a comforting manner and then pulled back. "I'm truly sorry...Clement."

Jim, now decorated respectably as a Lieutenant, operated a sloop, named The RLS Superior. It certainly made him feel superior, though he never let any of this be known. He and Onyx were a team. In ranks, Jim was one above Onyx, but as operators of the patrol, they were equals. Actually, Jim considered calm and collected Onyx above him in several ways. He truly was like his uncle. Though, he never got to hang around him much, from what he heard. It was the third or so week they'd been operation, and so far their patrol had stopped a number of pirate raids, and saved countless citizens. Everyone who was a member were regarded highly. All had indigo sleeves and necks on their uniforms, along with a badge on each shoulder that said "Royal Navy Patrol".

Jim had just finished putting on his uniform that morning in his cabin on the ship when there was a terrifying banging on the door. "Uh, come in?" He looked over, slightly fearful. In barged Minerva, looking irate as she possibly could get.

"HAWKINS!"

Oh shit. That tone was eerily similar to his mother's when Jim had been caught sneaking in late at night. "Um, yes?"

She marched over, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him into a wall, baring her teeth, her purple eyes glinting dangerously. "IF YOU DON'T GET SOME GOD DAMN CONTROL OVER SOME OF THIS CREW, I'LL THROW YOU OFF THE SHIP AND TAKE OVER MYSELF!"

Jim clawed at the wall, eyes locked on the curved fingernails of doom Minerva had far too close to his windpipe. "W-what are you talking about?!"

She growled, pulling him back and slamming him on the wall again. "The pervs, you jackass! I swear on my mother's God-forsaken grave if one of them touches my ass again I'll do more than knock a few teeth outta their skull! You hear me Hawkins?!"

Jim relaxed a bit. "I-I ye-"

"Hawthorne!" Came Onyx's booming voice. Minerva jumped slightly and turned, glaring. "What do you want, pretty boy?"

He looked at her with distaste. "If you want things done around here, you're better off coming to me. Unlike James, I scare people."

Jim nodded, knowing this was all to true. Onyx's broad shoulders and quiet tendencies made him more than intimidating. Minerva rolled her eyes, tossing Jim to the side and waltzed over to Onyx, her hips swinging sassily. Jim smirked as he fixed his hair, knowing Onyx was resisting the urge to stare. She jabbed her finger in Onyx's chest.

"You better scare them, pretty boy. 'Cuz if you don't," she stood on her toes, her face very close to Onyx's, her words barely audible to Jim. "I'll make it where you won't get the chance." She then stepped back gracefully, doing a half turn on her heel and waltzing off, even more entrancing swing in her step as she exited the room and slammed the door behind her. Jim watched Onyx as he slowly blinked and took off his hat, fanning himself a moment as a deep blush rose upon his cheeks. Jim then laughed. "Ya dope you like her!"

"I-I d-do not." Onyx coughed, putting his hat back on.

"Then why ya fannin' yourself like an old woman in church?"

"Well, it's,uh, it's just hot in here, Jim."

"It's 63 deg-"

"Let's move on then." Onyx cleared his throat, giving Jim a look like 'drop it'. Jim shrugged, grinning, and walked out. A gunner ran up to Jim and saluted him.

"At ease, soldier."

The lad, who was actually in Jim's year, calmed. "Captain, we've received S.O.S rocket from the Lady J."

"How old is it?" Jim brought himself to his full height. "Approximately fifteen minutes, Captain."

"Alright then. Helmsman, set course to these coordinates." Jim handed the message to the helmsman, who glanced and nodded, reeling the ship to the side while saying "setting course". Jim sighed, surveying things. This was boring. By now most the cadets had shipped out, off on the adventures the war had to offer. Jim knew well that it wasn't all glory, but that didn't mean there wasn't some there. He wanted to prove himself. Yeah, he'd been called by the queen, but by now everyone had forgotten. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he was hungry for some more recognition. He didn't want to be stuck as the person who headed the Royal Patrol along with Onyx. He wanted to be captain-Admiral, even. And this war was just his chance to prove himself. There was nothing interesting out here but the pirates that came by, and they were just run of the mill scavengers and miners. The wind blew his hair about as he walked to the bow, standing on the bowsprit to get a better view. From this viewpoint, he was the first beside the spotter to see the burning remnants of the Lady J, barely afloat in the Etherium.

And the pirates weren't done with her yet.

It's late. I'm tired. Anything not Disney is mine and cannot be used in anything else. I love all the reviews, and I ask you all to leave them as often as you can. They really, really encourage me. :3