Cyra clutched her friend’s hand and waved to Doc as he disappeared into the cruiser. She wanted to cry and be scared like Veda, but she was the captain now. She had to be strong for her crew and be the person they could rely on. There was no one left for her to cry on. No one left to reassure her that everything would be okay because it wouldn’t be unless she made it so.
Cyra and Veda made it back to the galley despite blurry, tear-filled eyes. Blaize, and Rhysa were in the galley drinking from steaming cups.
Cyra tried to pull herself together. “Hi Rhysa. Didn’t expect you so early.”
“Didn’t have anywhere else to be, Captain.” She paused. “Sadly. Maybe there will be some action where we’re going.”
Being called captain still didn’t feel right. Cyra poked the replicator.
“The provisions haven’t arrived.” Blaize handed her a covered cup. “Rhysa brought buzz.”
“Thank you.” Cyra clutched the biodegradable container, already slightly soft and drank deeply. The warmth was followed by a sense of clarity that she only got from the caffeinated beverage. “Where’s Dez?”
“He came out earlier. Grabbed a protein bar and went back to his quarters. He’s kind of weird about touching. I tried to show him where the bars were stored and he jumped about a foot away from me.” Blaize lifted a shoulder briefly and then drained her cup.
It was weird, but as long as he was handled and still on the ship, Cyra wasn’t going to question his quirks. “So where are we going for first meal?”
Blaize cleared her stuff from the table, went to the recycle bin, and tossed her trash. “I’ll pass. Had a protein bar and I still have a ton of work to do.”
“You sure?” Guilt settled in Cyra’s gut along with the buzz. She’d had no idea how rough the mechanical systems were.
“I’m good.” She flashed a smile and bounded out into the corridor, her red braid bouncing on her back.
Cyra made a note to review everything Blaize had done and to make it a priority to stay on top of any and all systems in the ship. When Captain Auvi was leading—a twinge of loss hit just thinking his name—she followed his lead and let the team do their jobs without much oversight. And while Cyra didn’t want to manage oppressively, she should have an accurate view of what was happening on her ship. Captain Auvi had trusted too easily and too much.
They made the quick trek to the Alexo Diner near the dock. The corrugated metal facade broken up by capsule shaped windows. A variety of beings filled the booths, but the three women were seated quickly in a recently vacated space and served more buzz before they had to ask. After deciding on their meals, they punched their orders into the display embedded in the table.
“While we wait for food, I have your contract.” The last thing Doc had sent Cyra before he left. She forwarded the document to Rhysa’s comm. Cyra bit her tongue to resist babbling to fill the silence at the table. In the background, dishes clanked, and the cook called out orders for pickup. Servers bustled and diners chatted. But a black hole of weight settled on Cyra’s shoulders as she waited for Rhysa to sign off on the terms.
“Where are we headed first?” Rhysa asked after they had ordered and Cyra had transmitted the contract to her.
“We need to deliver our cargo to Morgual.”
“The shit hole at the far end of the Gleise solar system?”
Cyra nodded. “I’ve calculated the EMF rods needed and we can make it in one go without using a wormhole.”
“That’s ridiculous, it will take galactic weeks longer.” Rhysa scowled.
“It will take longer, but not g-weeks. Blaize has already found enough improvements to the engines that we won’t need to use any ER bridges. Besides, I’m not sure what the time impacts might be. I can’t be late on this delivery. As it is, we’ll be cutting it tight.”
“All the more reason to use the bridge. Odds are we’ll end up there sooner.”
“I’m not willing to bet our only source of any income on odds. We can do this fast or we can do it right. For this particular delivery, we have to take the more conservative route.” And for any future deliveries, because crossing bridges was the worst.
“Are you sure Blaize has actually improved the performance of the ship?” Rhysa’s pink eyes bored into Cyra.
“No, but I’m not considering possible improved performance in my calculations. I expect you can find some efficiencies in our navigation as well.” Blaque Poll navigators were supposed to be bad ass. Let her earn her reputation.
“Of course, I will. But I’ll also plan some alternate routes with the available bridges. Just in case things go catastrophic.”
Cyra’d had enough ofthingsgoing catastrophic, but she couldn’t argue that the probability of more going wrong was zero. She tamped down the churning doubts and attempted to be the confident leader she should be. “I appreciate you taking the possibilities into consideration andrespectingmy decision.”
“I had to know you had considered all the options.” Rhysa grinned at Cyra.
The server delivered their plates at that moment cutting off any response Cyra might have made. She was tired from the confrontation, but she felt even more confident in her decision. She trusted the ship. She was gaining trust in Blaize. If her plan didn’t work, she was no worse off than if she hadn’t inherited the ship.
“Who are you getting your fuel rods from?” Rhysa asked in between tiny bites of her food.
