Random Rough Draft #2

Courage

Dear Papa,

I’m sorry. I know it’s been a fair bit of time since I’ve written, to anyone, really. Work on the Courage has been keeping me pretty busy. Our launch date was originally set for March 29th, but they moved it up a week, so everyone’s been scrambling to get ready for launch. Speaking of which, that should be happening in about an hour or so, so sorry in advance for making this a little shorter than usual. I know it’s been an especially long time since I last talked to you, but...I feel like you would want to hear about everything that’s been going on with me lately.

Although it’s been a little stressful getting the ship ready for departure, I couldn’t have asked for a better crew down in Engineering. They’re all really nice, and quite capable, although we sadly haven’t had too many chances to talk about, like, not-work stuff. I haven’t had to deal with any discipline problems so far, which is good, since I have no idea how I’d manage something like that. A lot of the work is pretty routine, but some of the puzzles I’ve had to solve down there have been real headscratchers. Justine, our diagnostic specialist, has been a huge help in figuring those out. I think I’ll ask if she wants to hang out in a few days, when things have settled down again. She’s really fun to talk to. 

Also, I gotta give props to the people at the shipyard. They really quieted down the engine in these Explorer ships. Hanging out in Engineering is way easier than I figured it would be, especially given my most recent find. I was working in one of the maintenance corridors close to Engineering when I found a small compartment, about 3 meters tall, about as roomy as a small closet. From the looks of things, it only really exists to fill space. More importantly, though, the hatch can be sealed, and the only thing you can hear through it is the faint hum of the engine. And, believe me, the acoustics there are amazing. It’s the perfect place for me to just hang out and unwind, without having to interact with anyone. And I can sing as much as I want, without bothering people! Ha! Ah, it’s great. Thank God I’m not claustrophobic. 

Anyway, you’ll be happy to know that I haven’t had any issues with any of the other officers. Everyone’s been nothing but respectful. In fact, I’ve even managed to make some friends!

It started after the first senior staff meeting. It was pretty standard, you know-everyone introducing themselves, the captain setting goals for all the departments before we launched, that sort of thing. When it was all said and done, the Head of the Sciences, Lieutenant Abbasi, came up to me in the hallway.

“Lieutenant Lowes,” they began, to get my attention. “Sorry to bother you, but I didn’t quite catch what you preferred to be addressed as. I’d appreciate some clarification.”

I was honestly a little nervous. During the meeting, they had seemed a bit intimidating, kinda laser-focused on their work.

“Oh! Uh, my name’s Elizabeth but you, you already knew that, huh? Well, I guess Liz is fine, but honestly, I prefer Lizzy. It was an old nickname in my family, so it’s kinda grown on me. Plus, it just sounds way more, I dunno, fun, I guess? Does that make any sense?” I kinda paused for a second, and they just kind of nodded along, processing. When they didn’t say anything for a while, I started to get a little uncomfortable. I was considering saying something else to break the tension, but I didn’t know what. And then, all of a sudden, I made a connection I hadn’t expected to, one so funny that I couldn’t help chuckling a bit.

That got their attention, and they looked at me with even greater scrutiny. “What is it?” they asked, causing me to pause abruptly.

“Ah, uh, nothing. N-nothing, it’s stupid.”
“What?” they asked again, rather confused. I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts for a second before answering.

“Um...well, it’s just, uh, your name is Alina, right?” They nodded. “And, well, I go by Lizzy, so, uh, in a way, we both have alliterative names. Just, uh, just a funny little thing I noticed.”

For a second, they didn’t say anything, and I was worried that I had annoyed them somehow. I was already trying to think of a way to apologize for making such a stupid observation, but before I could, I noticed them crack the slightest of smiles. I had absolutely no clue what was happening.

“Heh. I didn’t realize that,” they said. 

Within a minute, they had invited me to lunch. 

Talking to them is probably the most fun I’ve had while talking to a person in my entire life, and I say this with complete seriousness. We have more in common than should really be possible. Both STEM majors, obviously. Over half of the same professors for the same classes at the academy, albeit always a semester apart. We both listen to B’Tan A’por and Final Frontier. We both hated Professor Falkner from Xenobiology (although they got a much better grade in that class). And, uh...I think we both had a tiny crush on the bartender at Aldrin’s. They didn’t say it outright, but they sure were quick to change a subject they brought up in the first place. Just a little observation.

I could go on and on, it’s just...it’s just amazing. We get along better than...anyone else I’ve met, really. Well, except for you, mom, and dad, obviously. But hey, if nothing else, now I know not to rely so much on first impressions.

Let’s see, who else...? Oh!

Our main helmsman, Ensign Castaneda, is really nice! We hadn’t really talked during any of the senior officer meetings, but he came down to Engineering a few days ago, after his wheelchair started acting up. One minute, he’s ordering a coffee, the next he has to jam the drink dispenser just to keep it from flooding his quarters with earl grey tea. Sometimes he couldn’t lock into the helm at all, and sometimes the chair wouldn’t let him leave without the captain’s authorization. It was a mess all around. Fortunately, the problem was simple enough to fix: a couple mistyped lines of code in the chair’s interface protocols. I didn’t think much of it, but the way he thanked me for it, you’d have thought I had performed the greatest engineering feat since the advent of FTL travel. He insisted on treating me to a cup of coffee the minute I got off duty. From his newly repaired drink dispenser, naturally. 

After that, we got to talking, and oh, gosh, you’re never gonna believe this. He’d asked me what my favorite author was, and after I asked him the same, you wanna know what he said? You! Seriously, he’s read, like, everything! All the early stuff, the essays, your autobiography, the novel you wrote about H’Tal after Contact, your later work. Oh, God, he’s even glimpsed at some of the stuff from your awful poetry phase! Even I couldn’t bring myself to read that! 

Man, you should’ve seen the look on his face when I said that you were my grandpa. If we were in a cartoon, his jaw would’ve fallen right through the deck plating. Haha! Ah. Dad’s last name really comes in handy in those situations, don’t you think? Makes the dramatic reveal all the sweeter.

Ah...so yeah, Mateo’s pretty nice. I’ve been having lunch with him every so often. Sometimes Lina shows up after a couple minutes, other times it’s just us. Once or twice a couple of my engineers have found the time to join us. Justine hasn’t been able to make it yet. Hopefully once we’re underway we’ll both be able to find time. Hmm...I’m sorry, where was I? 

Oh, yeah! Well, I’ve made some friends, but I can safely say there’s one member of the senior staff I’m a little hesitant about: Ensign Taylor, our Communications Specialist. I can’t really put my finger on it. He hasn’t been rude. He doesn’t strike me as particularly vain or egotistical. He’s actually rather charming. And, well, it doesn’t surprise me that a guy fluent in six languages would have a great deal to talk about.

When I ran into him while getting dinner one night, we had a very stimulating conversation about the complexities involved in humans learning Q’Sanna, given the structure of our vocal cords compared to theirs. I thought I had a passing grasp of the language from my classes at university, but there were tricks he showed me that I couldn’t even begin to understand. Hearing him speak it, you’d almost think he was part Q’Sann. He really is an interesting guy, and I’m glad to have met him. And yet...well, I wasn’t in a rush to get back to Engineering, but I didn’t exactly lose track of time, either.

I guess if I had to give an explanation, I’d say that it’s because he’s...a lot, in every way. For one, he’s committed to looking his best. Most guys are good about keeping themselves presentable, but he’s on a whole other level. Not a hair out of place, no blemishes to speak of, nothing to suggest he isn’t the very picture of perfect health. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but...well, you know how my hair looks straight out of bed. When we talk, I can’t help but feel a little...what would you even call it? Underbrushed? Undergroomed? Whatever, not important.

He’s also pretty confident in himself. He’s hardly the type who’s afraid to speak his mind. He knows his worth, and he likes what he does: that much was obvious from the moment we started talking. And he is indeed very...talkative. Like, Papa, keep in mind who is telling you this right now. He’s not going to talk over you, or continue a conversation you’re obviously uncomfortable with, but he can keep up a dialogue with barely any input from anyone else for hours. The whole time we were talking that night, a part of me was thinking about how he’d make a really good lecturer. He knows how to keep people engaged, and he certainly knows his stuff. Something tells me he’ll find himself among the academy faculty soon enough. 

The only problem is that he doesn’t quite seem to know when to stop. I was interested the whole time, don’t get me wrong, but conversations like that tend to make you want to do something else eventually, you know? I dunno, he seems very extroverted, and I’m very...not. It’s kinda like trying to throw oil and water together. Just doesn’t quite work. Still, even if we don’t hang out much, I think we’ll get along well, at the very least.

Outside of the senior staff meetings, I haven’t seen much of Lieutenant Commander Jin or Lieutenant Rona. Jin came by Engineering a few times to evaluate our progress, but that was business. And I saw Rona even less: Security wouldn’t have much reason to pay us a visit unless somebody had gone out of line. So, yeah, haven’t really talked with them much, but from what I’ve seen, they’re...nice enough. They both seem to be really focused on their work, and not particularly focused on making pleasant conversation or getting to know their coworkers. Interestingly, though, I’ve seen the two of them eating lunch together around the same time as me and my friends. Mateo thinks they’re secretly dating, but I honestly doubt it. Regulation forbids it, and it seems like both of them would do anything to avoid disobeying regulations. From what I’ve read about Gorvan culture, I’m pretty sure Rona would be excommunicated. 

Anyway, Doctor Galari is also really interesting to talk to, although I didn’t meet him until I came in for my mandatory physical. You know how I handle doctor’s visits, but he’s honestly a lot different from any other doctor I’ve met. More...personable. He has a remarkable gift for making pleasant conversation, so much so the awkwardness I felt evaporated into nothing within minutes of sitting down. For a physical? A full physical? That means a lot.

We don’t have a lot of common interests, but he seems to know enough to talk about...well, everything. The history of human space exploration, recent advances in artificial intelligence, the best variety of tea. We spent all of ten minutes talking about our favorite places to eat back at the dock. It was interesting how much he knew about Earth after only living on the planet for a couple weeks. I barely know anything about Thylar beyond the basics, so needless to say, the conversation was a little lopsided. Still, talking to him was fun! It never felt like we were searching around for something to talk about. Each topic just went on smoothly from one to the next.

Before you ask, no, it never came up. He simply reminded me that I can schedule an appointment for a counseling session with him whenever I feel the need, and since I haven’t yet, nothing more has been said. 

Actually...the only time my accommodations have really come up was when I was talking to the captain the evening I came aboard. 

Oh, man. I thought Lina was intimidating at first, but that was nothing compared to when Captain J’Sal asked to see me in their office. The first Q’Sann officer to be promoted to captain. The first non-human captain in the service to begin with, and they got it in record time, too! But I’m getting sidetracked. The point is, they asked me to go to their office.

So, I went over there, maybe 60% sure what to expect. They had me follow them into the side room. The way they were clicking their mandibles made me nervous. Almost like a human clicking their tongue in disapproval. 

They ushered me in and asked if I wanted anything from the kitchenette. I didn’t want to impose, but they insisted, so I hesitated before asking for a cheese quesadilla. I figured they’d say no, but they quickly pulled out everything they needed and got to work. I never truly realized just how quickly one could make a meal with four hands at their disposal.

“Well, Lieutenant, as much as I welcome the chance to practice cooking, I was hoping that I could ask you some questions.”

Their accent, as with that of any other Q’Sann speaking human languages, would take most people a bit of time to adjust to. Q’Sann vocal cords could only work so well outside of their comfort zone, after all. Fortunately, I took the time to familiarize myself with it before coming aboard, so when they finally spoke, I understood them perfectly. 

“Uh, of course, Captain. Ask away.” 

I kinda hoped they didn’t notice how nervous I was, but honestly? They did. They absolutely did. But they kept going.

“The file you provided for me is pretty thorough, but there are a few points that I wanted to be absolutely sure on. Now, for one thing, you mentioned that alert alarms tend to give you an intense degree of physical discomfort.”

I nodded. “That’s right, Captain. It’s usually not enough to do much unless I’m really stressed out, in which case it’s...a lot worse.”

“I see,” they said, their back facing towards me as they left the tortillas sitting on top of each other, the cheese nestled in the middle. “Commander Mareign didn’t note anything that seemed too troubling on that matter, but I’ve already put in a request that the volume of the alerts be adjusted to match what you experienced during your bridge test at the academy. I see nothing that would indicate your performance here would differ significantly enough to matter. Do you?”

I shook my head. “No, Captain.”

“Good.”

Everything was quiet for a bit, with nothing but the sound of the butter sizzling on the pan. Captain J’Sal cleared their throat.

“You also mentioned that you have occasionally experienced meltdowns when you are overstimulated and under intense stress.”

“Yes, Captain,” I said to them, gulping a bit from nervousness in spite of myself.

“Anything in particular which has caused you problems in the past?”

“Timed essays. Hated that shit,” I said without really thinking, only catching on when I heard them chuckle and promptly putting my hands over my mouth.

“I don’t believe you’re in any danger of running into those aboard this ship, Lieutenant,” they said playfully. I just kinda chuckled awkwardly, embarrassed I’d brought it up at all. “What else?” he asked, having nearly completed the meal set before him.

I took a second to think this time. “Uh, well, when I’m really, really stressed out, a lot of overlapping conversations tend to mess me up. The louder it is, the worse it gets.”

They nodded thoughtfully.

“Really, just, sudden, loud noises in general aren’t great. Kinda like the final straw that breaks the camel’s back, you know?”

“Indeed,” they said, thinking it over. “Well, I’ll remind everyone to be mindful and respectful in my notice to the crew. Doctor Galari and his staff are a good resource to turn to if you need them. Of course, I don’t believe anyone on board will deliberately cause you any trouble, but if anything happens that makes you uncomfortable or comes close to triggering a meltdown, take whatever measures you can to defuse that situation. And, by all means, don’t hesitate to tell a crew member off if they’re out of line. You do outrank most of them, after all,” they finished, their mandibles clicking in what would almost be described as a throaty chuckle. 

I smiled.

“Understood, Captain.”

After that, we sat down for a quick meal, swapping stories about the academy and our prior assignments over quesadilla and salad. At some point, I jokingly asked them if they did the full meal and everything for any of the other senior staff. All four eyes looked back at me.

“Of course,” they said. “I plan to do this with every member of the crew, eventually.”

My eyes widened a bit. “Every member?” I repeated, just to make sure I heard right.

“Each and every one,” they said. “I figured the best place to start was with my senior officers, so I’ve been going down the ranks. I, uh...I have a feeling it won’t be easy to fix something that Lieutenant Rona will enjoy.” 

They chuckled again, and I felt comfortable enough to join in.

“At the very least, it probably won’t be something you enjoy very much,” I said.

“Ah, yes. A vegetarian sharing a meal with a woman whose teeth have evolved to tear through skin tougher than kevlar,” they said, looking like they were about ready to gag. “I don’t suppose you can offer me any suggestions?”

I thought about it for a second. “You know, I think I’ve seen her eating shrimp.”

All four eyes widened, staring at me for several seconds. “...Did you say shrimp?”

“Yeah. Like, a whole plate of it, all stacked on top of each other. Doesn’t even bother to remove the shells, she just takes a big spoon and scoops up bunches of them like candy. I’ve seen her do it, it’s strangely impressive.”

“...Interesting. Well. Thank you for your assistance, Lieutenant,” they said, moving their facial muscles in about the closest approximation of a smile they could muster. A part of me thought that their “smile” was...really cute, for some reason. 

I stuffed that thought down and smiled back.

“Happy to help, Captain.”

Before long, we had finished up dinner. I offered to clean everything up, but they insisted that they’d take care of it once I’d left. They walked with me to the door out of their office, but no sooner had the door opened than a question suddenly came to mind.

“Say, Captain?” I asked.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“How did you know that I was going to ask for a quesadilla?”

They paused for a minute, looking rather unsure what to say while, at the same time, a weird smell started to circulate, similar to lavender. At the same time, their mandibles pressed together while their eyes glanced downwards. They appeared to be...embarrassed.

“I didn’t. I knew if I stocked that, sooner or later someone would want it, and it’s a very difficult meal to mess up, so...”

I just kinda looked at them for a second before giggling a bit. It was honestly kind of relieving. They’re the captain of a starship, a trained diplomat and capable officer who’s accomplished more than some people twice their age...yet they can’t cook to save their life.

“It was delicious, Captain,” I said, smiling at them, which seemed to do the trick.

“Ah, you’re just brownnosing,” they said jokingly.

“Not at all. You should try my grandpa’s quesadilla sometime. You’ll know I’m not speaking lightly.” We both chuckled for a bit at that one, until the captain’s smile became...a bit sadder than the other one. A bit more hesitant.

“I would’ve liked to have met your grandfather,” they said solemnly. “I’m told he was a great man.” <gbktrhdfudsgggggggggggggggggggggggjkddddddddd

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I gotta say...it isn’t getting much easier, hearing that tone whenever you come up in conversation. You’d think it would’ve after eight years, but clearly, I was expecting a little too much from myself or whatever passes for a higher power in this world.

“Yeah. He was,” I said, smiling a bit as well. Smiling helps as long as nobody looks too closely into my eyes. Although, then again, I should’ve figured that that trick wouldn’t work too well against someone who has four of them.

“I should’ve just kept my mouth shut,” they said. The scent in the air shifted to something more akin to sea water. I hurriedly held up my hands.

“No, no, it’s fine, Captain. I just, ah...” I tried, but the words I wanted to say couldn’t quite come out. Kinda funny for a chatterbox like me, huh?

For a while, neither of us really said anything. We weren’t quite sure what there was to say to begin with. Eventually, I came up with something.

“Say...would you be opposed to having dinner at my place sometime?” I asked, getting their attention away from sulking. “I could make you a quesadilla.”

They looked at me for a second, a question forming. “Do you...know your grandfather’s recipe?” they asked, hesitating slightly.

“Ever since I was 7,” I said, a bit of pride seeping in. “I could even teach it to you, if you’d like. It’s not the trickiest thing to pick up.” 

That sad smile from before was back, although a bit brighter than the last time.

“Hm. Yes. I think I would like that very much,” they said. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but it didn’t feel quite as oppressive anymore. I smiled back at them.

“It’s a date!” I said, doing my best to sound cheerful. However, they frowned slightly, and it wasn’t long before I realized where I’d messed up. I tried again. “I mean a get together that is between two fellow officers of differing rank!” I said, in that same cheerful tone. They chuckled.

“Good night, Lieutenant,” they said.

“Night, Captain,” I replied before walking out the door and back to my quarters.

All in all, I think the two of us hit it off pretty well. They’re definitely better than my last boss, at least. Things got...pretty awkward, but still, you know, as a whole, it was a nice evening.

...It is pretty hard, I admit. You get brought up a lot in relation to your work. I guess in that sense, having dad’s last name is even more useful. Not many people talking about you actually know that you’re my grandpa unless I say it out loud. Which, as I said earlier, leads to pretty funny results.

...Ugh. I dunno. Like I said, I keep feeling like it’s supposed to get easier. Like after a while it just stops mattering as much. For the most part it has: I can go a whole day without thinking about you at all, if I’m being brutally honest. But then stuff like that happens, and it comes back. Not all the way, of course. Nothing compared to...right after it happened, but still worse than I would really like. I just...I’m still not sure if I’m completely ready. I feel like there’ll just be one specific thing that happens that throws me for a total loop, something that mom and dad and everyone else couldn’t have possibly prepared me for. And I think, maybe, if you were here with me, I might be able to get myself out of it. But...you’re not. I’m on my own. And I guess sometimes I’m just-

Lizzy?

---

A brown haired woman, arms wrapped around her legs as she sat curled up on a chair, looked up from her computer console with a start. She’d gotten so engrossed in the message she had been recording that she had failed to notice several alerts from the door to her quarters, informing her that someone required her attention. She let go of her legs and turned herself around until she was facing the door.

“Lizzy, are you there?” She could recognize the voice, even through the natural muffling provided by the door. She glanced over towards her computer console again before sighing. 

“Computer, pause recording. Yeah?” she called out to the voice just beyond her door.

“Lizzy, are you aware what time it is?” Lieutenant Abbasi asked, with just a hint of playfulness in their voice.

“What time it is...?” Elizabeth muttered to herself, a sinking feeling developing in the pit of her stomach. She looked back at her computer monitor, paying renewed attention to the time posted at the bottom right corner of the screen: 1450. And the ship’s launch was scheduled for…

“Oh, fuck,” she said, causing her friend to chuckle. Evidently the door didn’t muffle noise all that well.

“Yes, Lizzy. ‘Oh, fuck’ is right,” Abbasi said, that playful tone getting a little stronger. “You better get back into uniform fast. It wouldn’t look great for me if the third officer missed the launch.”

Elizabeth chuckled sardonically. “Not to worry. I wouldn’t dream of making a superior officer look bad.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” they replied. “See you on the Bridge.” They walked off, leaving Elizabeth both amused and also just a little bit panicky as she frantically got up from her seat.

“Okay, okay. Just gotta get the uniform on, run like hell, and then we’re in-”

Her eyes fell upon the computer console again. She wasn’t quite sure if she should sit back down, given how little time she had. And yet...she felt drawn to it. Like there was one last thing she had to say before she could leave. So, she dismissed the chair, watching it disappear beneath the floor panels before standing over the console, pressing the record button once more.

---

You know what? Scratch that. I’m not on my own. Not anymore, at least.

I’ll talk to you again later, Papa. Heh. Maybe after I finally teach Captain J’Sal how to make your quesadilla. That should be a pretty fun night.

...I love you, Papa. Always.