Cooldown
"Salud!" Arrande toasts, raising his glass high. The rest of the crew clinks their glasses together, letting out a joyful cheer.
Spirits are high in the Crosshair's common area. Most of the crew sits around the dining table, jammed into its U-shaped booth seats. Samus watches them from the corner seat, taking a sip of her own drink. She feels the same sense of satisfaction they do, though she's not used to celebrating most successful missions with loud social gatherings.
She tries to grade their mood individually, read how they're feeling.
Arrande leans back, one arm spread over the rear of the booth seat. With one swig, he downs a third of his drink. "Who would expect anything less than a rousing success?" he declares with a cocky smile. It's about the response she expected from him; flippant and casual. Despite the mission's unforeseen twists and hardships, he looks ready to put the past behind him and embrace the victory. She's almost jealous.
Chowa has placed their drink back down on the table. Vorminians can't drink alcohol, as it causes rapid liver failure due to their particular physiology. Yet despite that, they're taking part in the crew's little social ritual. If anything, Chowa's initiative to take part makes her feel at ease doing so herself. "I am disappointed I could not join the ground team. But we could not anticipate the mission becoming a space-borne operation, I suppose. My first purchase with my share of the bounty will be a proper spacesuit to ensure I do not let the team down again."
Samus looks back across the table to Kaia, sitting next to Adrian. She seems content to sit and listen to the crew banter. Very in line with what she expects of her. Samus always had the impression her therapist didn't have many social ties outside of work. It was one reason she was so certain Kaia would join.
"Doc, you're not partaking?" Arrande asks, pointing to her beverage. Her glass has water in it instead of the cocktail he whipped up.
She smiles and waves off his offer, shaking her head. "I've been sober for three decades. My late husband would be terribly disappointed in me if I broke my promise to him."
He smiles and raises his glass to her. "Hey, I respect it."
The crew seems in good spirits. However, there is one outlier. Adrian has been quiet, sipping her drink and staring off into space. Samus almost asks her what's on her mind, but stops herself; she knows Adrian won't give a straight answer in front of everyone else.
Samus excuses herself from the table and heads to the sink, behind the kitchen island and near a steel stove set inside the counter. The fabricator that once sat in her gunship now rests in the corner between the two. She dumps what remains of her drink; she wanted to be part of the crew's toast, but beyond that she needs to let her rib calcification treatment settle. Her side still aches.
"So, captain, what's up with the ancient hardware?" Adrian asks, referring to the stove. "Does it actually work or is it just for the aesthetic? We're not gonna have to cook on that, are we?"
Samus looks down at it and shakes her head. "No. It's just there if someone wants to use it." A sweeping wave of melancholy sours her mood as she looks at the appliance.
Arrande laughs and takes another drink, cocking his eyebrow. "That's kind of a weird thing to put on the ship just in case."
Samus smiles dryly. "I used to think so too." She lifts her glass up to the light, spying a little of the drink still clinging to the bottom. She tilts it back and finishes it, placing her glass on the counter, then moves toward the stairs.
Arrande takes notice, jumping out of his seat and moving to cut her off. "Whoa, wait a second, captain! You're not just going to cut and run after the first drink, are you? We need to bask in the glow of victory, bond with each other a little!"
"I need to finish processing the mission report," she excuses, trying to move past him.
He steps in her way, intercepting her again. "It's our first successful mission. We should celebrate together! Come on, Sam!"
Her eyes flare with sudden anger. She draws herself up straight and bears down on Arrande, finger buried in his chest. "Don't call me that!" The room falls silent. Samus can feel everyone's eyes on her. She hesitates, then tries to recover. She controls her tone, quiet and even, contrasting her outburst. "As I've said before, you will refer to me as captain or Ma'am. Understood?"
"... yes Ma'am. Sorry, Ma'am," he deferentially submits, moving out of her way.
She sweeps up the steps to the upper walkway. She can hear the crew's chatter continue in her absence. "You always find some way to get under her skin."
"Hey, this time it wasn't on purpose, really," Arrande replies, trying to remain diplomatic about it.
Samus crosses onto the bridge and drops her weight into the captain's chair, wincing and grabbing her side as her healing rib flares. She lets out a deep, long withheld sigh and turns on the ship's camera array, submerging the bridge in a holographic projection of the soothing darkness of space.
It's going to take a while for her to get used to being around people all the time. Maybe she's just forcing herself. Maybe she's just one of those people who's happier being solitary. That tantrum a moment ago wasn't mature. She's better than that. She knows she is.
"That was quite the outburst," she hears behind her.
Samus jumps in her seat. She didn't even hear the bridge door open. Oh good. Kaia. Can't just yell at her until she goes away.
"May I chat with you for a moment?" Before Samus can approve it, she's already moving up the ramp to her station.
Samus gives a defeated wave of her hand and shakes her head. "I suppose if it's not now, it'll be later. Go ahead, pick my brain."
Dr. Jha feigns insult, pressing her ring-laden hand to her chest. "Samus, I'm shocked and offended. Surely we can have perfectly friendly conversations outside of our sessions!" She stops next to Samus' seat, looking out at the star scape before them with an amused smile.
"Is that what this is?"
"No, not in this case," Dr. Jha admits, folding her weathered hands in front of her. "One benefit of agreeing to be ferried through the galaxy by a patient is getting to turn any moment into a session, at least if I sense they have something to get off their chest. Call it an emergency house call."
"Hm," Samus responds dismissively. "I'm fine. I just need a little time to myself."
"Oh, well then, I apologize. Clearly, I misread the situation. Would you mind if I enjoyed the view here on the bridge with you for just a moment? Then I'll leave you to your seclusion."
"I... fine." Kaia's ignoring what she's saying. Samus knows she's just trying to wait her out, give her the opening to lead the conversation. She does this a lot with her. Standing there, smug and self-satisfied, like she knows any minute now Samus will spill her guts.
Well, it's not going to work. Samus wants to sulk by herself, so she's going to do just that. She stares forward through the viewing hologram, doing her best to ignore the doctor's presence.
...
They sit there in silence for a long while, the seconds ticking by. Samus adjusts herself in her seat. Kaia watches the stars pass by, content to enjoy the unique ambiance.
...
"... do you think I did a good job? For our first mission," Samus asks, breaking the quiet.
Dr. Jha doesn't revel in the success of her tactic, instead earnestly slipping into the conversation. "Mm. I'm surprised you're questioning your own performance instead of your subordinates. That's the mark of a thoughtful leader. And while it may have been a rough first outing, I'd say you handled things fairly well. Everyone is alive, and they feel good about the outcome, perhaps with some exceptions."
"I think I may be in that latter category. I don't know why, but it just doesn't feel like I did things right."
"I see. I imagine that affected your response to Arrande somewhat. He was rather forceful in his approach."
"He has a habit of pressing my buttons. He's so good at it he doesn't even have to try."
"I noticed you're not yet throwing him off the ship, despite the many times he's done so."
Samus sighs. "What happened downstairs wasn't his fault. I won't give him his one strike because I couldn't handle myself."
"A fair and levelheaded response. The response of a good leader," Dr. Jha notes with a smile.
"I looked like an unhinged lunatic," Samus sighs.
"That is a rather dramatic interpretation of events. But it will affect the crew's perception of you. We can work on some techniques to manage your response to such thoughts. Samus, your team is successful. You are successful. It's your first mission together and all of you responded splendidly to uncertain circumstances... does that not make you happy?"
That's a hard question to answer. "I know I should be... but no. I don't think I am. I'm not surprised, though. I've been through this before. When my parents were killed, it took a long time for me to open up to Old Bird enough to manage a smile, at least by his account. Then after Ian, after Adam... and now..." She can't even bring herself to say his name. It's still too heavy a word for her tongue to lift. Dr. Jha places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I just... feel empty. It passes eventually... but it's always like this. I don't know how effective a leader I can be if my feelings are always negative or nonexistent."
Before Dr. Jha can respond, the door to the bridge slides open. Both women turn to see Adrian hesitating in the doorway. "Ah... permission to enter the bridge, captain?"
Samus turns to Kaia, who gives her an understanding nod. "We can continue later." The older woman turns down the ramp and sweeps out of the bridge, giving the lieutenant a polite nod and smile as she passes.
Samus rotates her seat around and waves Adrian forward. "What is it, Adrian?" she asks, especially conscious of her tone.
"We haven't had a moment to debrief yet." Adrian is stiff, standing at attention.
"Again, this isn't a military vessel. We don't need to debrief in person after a mission. If you have particular notes about it, you can write them up and send them to me through the ship's secure transmission system and I'll add them to my mission log. If I have questions, I'll come to you." Samus starts to turn her seat back around.
"M-ma'am!" Adrian stutters. "I feel I should let you know..." She stops short, not sure of what she wants to say, or rather, how to say it.
Samus waits a few seconds for her to continue, then prompts her. "Let me know what?"
"I wanted to apologize for my poor performance during the mission. You were severely injured because of my inexperience!" She stands rigid as a board, chin set, and swallows nervously as she prepares for a reprimand.
Samus doesn't speak at first. She considers something to herself, then rises from her chair and walks down the platform, standing in front of her subordinate. Adrian holds her breath.
Then her captain reaches out and rests both hands on her shoulders. "Adrian, look at me. Just breathe." She lets out a whooshing breath, and Adrian mirrors her. "You want to know what happened on my first mission?"
"Uh... sure," she replies. "You mean the Zebes mission?"
"No. That was an important one, but not my first." As Samus feels Adrian relax, she releases her arms, though she holds her gaze. "My first mission was a simple fugitive bounty. Someone skipped systems trying to outrun their court sentencing. As basic and straightforward as a bounty gets. I tracked him down to a slum on the edge of the Rhimbor system and was sure I had the drop on him. I thought he didn't know I was looking for him. But I was inexperienced, and I ended up asking the wrong people for information about him. By the time I figured out my informant had sent me on a wild goose chase, he had already told my mark I was sniffing around. I barely cornered him at a public ship hanger, and he ended up taking a Rhimborian kid hostage. Gun pointed right at their head."
Adrian listens with rapt attention, not looking away from Samus' eyes as she tells the tale. "... so what happened?"
"I froze. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell if he'd actually do it, so I didn't dare try to move on him. And I didn't know if he'd just take the kid with him and kill him anyway if I backed off, so I didn't retreat either. Here I was, one of the youngest graduates of the Federation Army training program, lauded for my performance in the field, and some low-grade court-jumper had me scared stiff that I was going to get an innocent kid killed on my first solo mission. I was up in my own head about getting the runaround and wasn't thinking about looking for a solution to what was happening right in front of me. But the kid was braver than me and he headbutts the guy in the stomach. The perp ends up shooting him in the shoulder by accident, but it gives me enough time to knock him out. You know what the kid said to me afterward?"
"What? What did he say?"
Samus smiles. "While the medics are patching him up, he gives me this huge grin and says, 'I'm gonna be the coolest kid in class when I tell everyone about this!'"
Adrian laughs a little, then comes back to her senses and pretends to clear her throat. "So um... why are you telling me this?"
"My point is this; you're going to mess up. You're going to make mistakes. This is a dangerous, unpredictable job. You can't be afraid of failure, because it will happen sometimes. It might even be a really bad loss, but letting it get to you will just lead to making the wrong calls. And it might sound childish, but any mission where the good guys walk away alive and the bad guys get punished is a successful one." Samus looks down and furrows her brow, a connecting thought bridging this conversation to her last.
"... Captain?"
Samus refocuses her attention. "Hm? Oh. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I think so, Ma'am."
"Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"
"No, Ma'am."
"You can go then." Adrian turns heel and starts to march off the bridge, but Samus calls out to her once more. "Wait, before you leave. I have one question. Which one of you set and detonated the charge that destroyed the reactor?"
Adrian almost reflexively says it was Arrande, then stops herself. Samus has spoken a few times about his one strike. The captain may forgive her screwups, but Arrande is on thinner ice. Her thoughts wander to the fresh scar in his space suit.
"... Lieutenant?" Samus presses, invoking her rank and underscoring the shift in tone.
Adrian looks away sheepishly. "I did. It was my charge, Captain."
Samus assesses her response, then nods and waves her away. "Alright. That's all."
000
Samus lays back in her cot, staring at the ceiling. It's been a few hours since the crew's celebration wore down. She knows she should rest and let the bone treatment heal her busted rib, but she feels restless.
She glances at the decapitated Torizo head containing Adam's programming. Samus assumed it would be easy to extract, but it's proven difficult. She gives it a testing tap with one finger, but all it does is stare back without reply.
However, something else scratches in the back of her mind. There's something she's been wanting to try again for a while now, and Adrian's earlier comment reminded her. She leaves her quarters to check the status of the common area; no one is there. She's certain Arrande has bridge duty tonight. Now that everyone is out of the common area, she can do something in private. She picks her personal datapad up from her bedside table, opens a particular document on it, then leaves her room, stealthily making her way to the lower level of the ship.
She sets the datapad down on the kitchen island, then activates the fabricator, having it generate some raw ingredients for her. Then she opens the cabinets and cupboards, collecting various utensils. A cutting board, a knife, a roll of plastic sheeting, and a baking pan. She gets to work.
A few minutes in, she hears the bridge door open, and heavy bootfalls echo on the catwalk above her. She knows who they belong to before he sets foot in the lounge. Arrande appears, wavering in place for just a second when he notices her. He doesn't linger too long before continuing his stride toward the fabricator.
He walks the same way she remembers from when they first met; slow, casual, self-assured. Yet with an unmistakable lock-step that is military reinforced. Melding consciously presented masculine confidence and subconsciously expressed discipline. If not for their history together smoldering in the back of her mind, it would make him stand out to her just as much as he did when they first met.
The fabricator generates a steaming cup of black coffee for him. He gives it a testing blow to cool it before lifting it to his lips. Samus doesn't so much as glance at him. She's entrenched in her own activity.
Arrande glances at her for a moment and turns to leave. Then he stops, hovers mid step, and turns back toward her.
"Ah... what are you doing?" he asks, keeping a fair distance back from the kitchenette as Samus toils away.
Flour cakes her zero suit, thickest around her hands and forearms. She tosses and kneads the dough in front of her, eyes focused on the task. "Cooking."
He takes a few slow, tentative steps toward the small kitchen island separating the two of them and glances down at the lit up datapad, spinning it to face him. A typed up set of notes detailing the recipe for lasagna takes up the screen. He lets out a low whistle. "This is a pretty complex looking recipe. Not that I'd know much about cooking. Didn't know you liked to make your own food."
"I don't," she curtly replies, rolling a mass of dough over again and again on the counter, keeping her back to him.
His head draws back in confusion. "Then why are you doing this?"
"... just remembering."
"Remembering what?"
She doesn't answer, continuing her labor instead. Arrande takes her reticence as his sign to leave her in peace, and heads up the steps to the central hall of the Crosshair, then back to his bridge duty.
She's not very good at this recipe. She's practiced it several times, but something is always off. The pasta gets undercooked, the sauce gets too watery, the meat is too greasy, there's always something wrong.
But still she practices it when the mood strikes her. Massaging the dough brings her focus to a forlorn, dark pit in her chest that hasn't quite closed. The act helps her gauge how much it's healed in the past months. So far, not much.
She considers perhaps it isn't helpful to do this little emotional exercise. Maybe she's just holding the wound open. But when she thinks back on her parents, on Ian, on Adam, she realizes how much she's moved on from the pain left from their losses, and feels some level of guilt for it, as though their memory has lost importance. Like she was supposed to carry their ghosts with her as a mantle of responsibility. At some point, that weight fell from her shoulders and she didn't notice. Now it's too late to retrace her steps and find that same level of attachment again.
She doesn't want to forget him like that. She doesn't want to move on. So she kneads, chops, layers, and bakes, hoping this time the recipe will come out right. She knows it's somewhat self destructive to go to so much effort just to hold on to the hurt, that it probably isn't helping her, but at this point it's the most she has to remember him by.
So just for a little longer. She knows she'll heal eventually, and she won't even notice when it happens. For now, she just wants to remember.
She's owed that little indulgence.
00000
Chapter notes
If you have a moment, please consider answering one or both of these questions for me in a comment!
1. Do you feel like Samus' personality is represented well here?
2. Do you enjoy little "breather" chapters like this between chapters focused on heavy action and high tension?