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| Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software |
It’s happening again. The Captain is being stripped of his rank. But unlike
Halan Yenant, who broke the law in order to save every life on the ship at
the time, Soto Tamm’s actions were done out of selfishness and the abuse of
power. It was also just disgusting. It was never against the law for a
captain to have sex, but it was difficult to accomplish without arousing
suspicion, no pun intended. There are few positions of sufficiently equal
footing to allow relationships without any issue. It was fine when Tinaya’s
aunt, Captain Kaiora Leithe developed a relationship with Dr. Ima Holmes,
because Ima was Chief Medical Officer. She wasn’t a passenger, an
apprentice, or a lower ranking member of the crew. The two also disclosed
their partnership publicly immediately, which is what Kaiora would have been
obligated to do if it had been nearly anyone else. She would have been fine
connecting with the First or Second Chair, or maybe the Hock Watcher, or
maybe a member of the council, but she probably would have had to disclose
that too. Tamm didn’t do any of this. He slept with numerous people, did not
report the encounters to anyone, and actively worked towards keeping his
partners—if you can call them that—quiet. He acted like a predator.
A sex scandal? Really? That’s what it’s come to? Is peacetime worse than
wartime? Are idle hands the devil’s tools? So far, the names of Tamm’s
partners have not been released, and hopefully they never will, but one
thing’s for sure, they don’t fall onto the list of acceptable partnerships.
The former captain exhibited gross misconduct by indulging, if not pursuing,
such contact. He was removed from his position, and his duties were
redelegated to First Lieutenant Percival Applegarth, and Second Lieutenant
Athan Velitchkov. It has been nearly a month now, though, and Velitchkov is
the only one still standing. The investigators discovered that Applegarth
was aware of Tamm’s crimes, and said nothing, so he has been removed from
his position too. The ship is in chaos, and the civilian government has had
to step in to carry the load. More specifically, while Velitchkov does
pretty much everything a captain would do, Tinaya is all but officially
serving as his lieutenant. She is the only one with any semblance of
experience with putting out the kind of bonfires that this incident has
built.
They can’t pull from the qualified graduates of the College of Executive
Administration, because one of them could end up becoming the interim
Captain. You can’t be a captain if you’ve already been a lieutenant. Of
course, Tinaya is supposed to end up Captain, but she hasn’t technically
been assigned the rank of Lieutenant, so it’s a super big gray area here.
Don’t let anyone tell you that they know what the hell they’re doing,
because they don’t. They are now only ever seconds away from complete
annihilation, and it’s a wonder that it hasn’t happened already. Possibly
the only thing holding everything together is that the Extemusians have
become unified towards a singular goal. There is a passenger-driven campaign
to install Tinaya as the captain, since that has always been the plan
anyway, but she isn’t sure she wants that anymore. She loves her job. She
even kind of likes what she’s doing right now, as bad as that may sound. She
fixes problems, and as melodramatic as she’s being about the state of
affairs, things are probably okay. The ship is not going to tear itself
apart. She can be the glue as Captain, or as something else. You don’t have
to use only one type of glue, to...lazily stick with the same metaphor. Pun
intended.
The Council wants to speak with her today. They’re probably going to ask her
to do it, and she honestly doesn’t know how she’s going to respond. She
walks up to the Council Chambers, again passing the line by, but they don’t
even bother offering it this time. You only wait in line if you’re the one
asking to be there; not if you’ve been summoned. Lataran Keen is already in
the room, standing on the center platform alone. The two of them have
remained friendly for the last several years, but grew in different
directions. They have lunch together occasionally, and it’s pleasant, but
they don’t share secrets anymore, and love would be a very, very strong word
to use to describe their current relationship status. Still, they hug, and
in the midst of it, Tinaya whispers, “do you know why you’re here?”
“I assume it’s finally happening for us, just as we always wanted,” Lataran
whispers back. They release, and face the Council.
“Thank you two for coming,” Cleader says. “This has been a difficult time
for us all, and we appreciate your patience and understanding as we work
through this.” He leans to his left, but doesn’t cover the microphone.
“Where is he?”
“He’s on his way,” the Councilor responds. “I believe we can start without
him.”
“Very well,” Cleader goes on. “I am aware of what some believe they know of
the future. Miss Leithe, you have always been called Captain, and as your
best friend, I’m sure that you always intended Miss Keen to be your First
Lieutenant. However, we do not think that this is the best course of
action.”
Lataran seethes but keeps her composure. She knows she’s not entitled to the
job.
Cleader clears his throat. “Athan Velitchkov will become the First
Lieutenant. He is the obvious choice. Yes, conventionally, the captain
appoints their own lieutenants, but in this scenario—because of what has
happened, and the unusual timing of this shift in power—it is logical to us
that Velitchkov should remain to help the new Captain with her new
responsibilities. We will, however, allow you to appoint your own Second
Lieutenant. Your respective shifts will last twenty-four years. These will
not be interim positions. As the end of the next shift approaches, we will
determine how to proceed, but it is possible that the final captain of the
ship will simply still be captain after the 216-year journey has been
completed, because we doubt that the Extremus planet will have been located
by then. Now that we are in the void, instead of the Milky Way Galaxy
proper, it will probably take our descendants longer to find a suitable new
home than our ancestors originally envisioned. But of course, that is not
our problem today. We are only here to extend the offer for the role of
Sixth of Eleven. Lataran Keen, graduate from the College of Executive
Administration, will you please accept this responsibility?”
Both Tinaya and Lataran tilt their lizard brains, and then they look at each
other. What the fuh? Lataran silently mouths to her friend.
Tinaya is in shock as well, but a tsunami of relief quickly rolls over her,
and she realizes that she really doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want to be
captain, and despite Lataran’s years-long insistence that she was going to
be happy with second place, she does. She has truly wanted it, and she truly
deserves it. The Bridgers have been wrong this whole time. This is what’s
meant to happen. The question is, why the hell is Tinaya here at all,
because they think Lataran will appoint her as the Second Lieutenant? That
wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it’s not amazing either.
Again, she likes what she does now, moving around to different departments,
handing out advice, watching people take that advice, and best of all,
seeing them succeed from it. Lieutenants only experience two things: giving
orders, or giving suggestions that no one listens to. That sounds stressful.
Then again, it would be a new challenge, and she would accept it. That is
assuming that’s why she’s here at all, and it’s not just so the Council can
shove her loss of the captaincy in her face. It’s certainly not just so
Lataran can have a friend by her side while she’s given the biggest
opportunity of her life.
“Miss Keen?” Cleader urges. “Miss Keen.”
Lataran has been lost in her own thoughts at the same time. “I just...what
about...?” She awkwardly points to Tinaya.
“Miss Leithe is not being offered the seat. You are. Please answer for
yourself.”
“Take the job,” Tinaya urges quietly. “I’m not the runner up. Who else would
you see doing it? Who else do you think is on their short list, and are you
quite confident that they’re as good as you are, and not worse than Tamm?”
Lataran frowns kindly at her, but nods, and thinks on it some more. Finally,
she says, “yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Thank you for this honor, Council.”
Cleader snaps his fingers twice. Someone approaches from a dark corner
behind the dais, ceremoniously holding folded garments in his arms. “Your
new uniform, printed to a perfect fit,” Cleader explains. “We expect you to
start...” he pretends to care what his watch says. “...right now.”
Lataran accepts the uniform graciously, and bows awkwardly back at the
tailor when he bows at her. Neither one of those things should have
happened. She’s not royalty. She drops a fold to admire the whole thing at
once, not realizing that it has come in two parts, so her pants nearly fall
to the floor. Tinaya reaches out, and snatches them out of the air just in
time. “Thank you.”
“You got it,” Tinaya replies. “You got this.”
“Now,” Cleader continues. “I’m sure you’re both wondering why Miss Leithe is
here as well.”
Lataran opens her mouth to respond, but realizes that it was rhetorical.
“Miss Leithe, we did not anticipate this whole Soto Tamm debacle. We likely
would have considered you for the captain’s seat instead, but you were
unfortunately removed from contention years ago when your name was submitted
for something else. As a neutral body of leadership, we are not allowed to
endorse specific government candidates, but we still oversee the election
committee, which is why we agreed to that loyalty test that you underwent
last year. “
“What are you saying?” Tinaya asks him.
“I’m saying that we can’t say anything further, but if you’ll recall, you
were asked to meet at a certain location on the ship at a certain time. That
meeting has been made manifest, and moved back to today. Again, we can have
nothing to do with it. I was merely asked to pass the message along, but I
will say that it’s not a loyalty test this time, and it’s decidedly not a
coup. Do attend. Thank you. That is all.” He looks up as if there’s anyone
else to address. “We’ll recess for one hour before continuing with the
grievances.” He bangs the gavel, and stands up, as do the rest of the
councilors.
“What is he talking about?” Lataran asks. “What meeting?”
Tinaya checks her watch. “No time to explain. It’s happening right now.
Congratulations. I love you.” They hug again, and then Tinaya disappears.
She steps into the Mirror Room to find Arqut Grieves waiting for her, which
is no big surprise, because he’s the one who set up the fake meeting last
year. What she doesn’t know is what has justified it becoming real today?
What has he submitted her name to? “You’re one minute late,” he says. “Don’t
worry, I know why.”
“I can’t be captain because you want me to serve in the civilian
government?”
“You would have been a great captain, Miss Leithe. You’ll be a better First
Chair.”
“First Chair? Are you serious?”
“Chairman Aleshire is nearing the end of his third, but final, term,” Arqut
reasons. “He feels too old to continue, so he’s going to step down. Someone
has to replace him either way. For years now, I’ve watched you prove
your intelligence, your strategic mind, your leadership skills. You’ve
learned, you’ve grown. Truthfully, I can’t think of anyone better. Most
Chairs have not been able to make it the full twelve years, but I’m
confident that you can be the third to accomplish this. Of course, I was
intending you to have three more years to prepare to take over, but Aleshire
is tired, and he wants to be with his family. If you agree, he will endorse
you fully, and you already enjoy a profoundly high approval rating.”
“I’m just a civilian, we don’t have approval ratings.”
Arqut chuckles. “Well, we do, and if you’re gonna be First Chair, you’re
gonna need to know that.”
“I never agreed to run.”
He nods. “You’re right, and you shouldn’t agree to anything without knowing
the full truth, which is that I screwed up the paperwork. I submitted your
name in the wrong fashion, and that is what disqualified you from the
captaincy. I basically made it look like you were the one requesting to be
on the future ballot, when I should have filled out a nomination form. I
just need to be totally open about this, and if you would like to distance
yourself from me, I would understand. Unfortunately, it’s irreparable. You
can never be captain under the current laws. If you want to make a
difference, this is where you do it, not as a second lieutenant. I am sorry,
but I don’t regret choosing you, because I am all but certain that everyone
else will choose you too.”
If it’s already too late to be captain, which would be the case even if they
hadn’t already offered it to Lataran, then maybe this is indeed the best
thing for her. Is this what she has been working towards this whole time?
Most of the jobs she’s taken have been on the civilian side of things. The
crew hasn’t needed that much of her help. “How long do I have to think about
it?”
“Your two major opponents have already announced their candidacies, so
we—I’m sorry, you—should think about making your own announcement by the end
of the week. Technically you could do it the day before voting day, but I
would obviously never recommend that.”
Tinaya thinks through the decision, weighing the pros and cons in her head.
She eyes the extraction mirror behind Arqut’s back, considering trying to
seek advice from someone who is no longer with us, such as her aunt maybe?
But in the end, she comes to a conclusion on her own. “Okay, I’ll try. But
I’ll need you to stay on with me. I assume the fact that you submitted my
name is a matter of record?”
“It is.”
“Then if I’m going to win, we need to make it look like this was the plan
the whole time, and that we’ve been working together. You did not mess up
the paperwork.”
He’s surprised by this suggestion, but he nods. “Okay. Then...let’s write an
announcement, and start working on campaign strategies.”
They work on those strategies, and two days later, Tinaya announces her
intentions, runs a good campaign, and actually wins. The funny thing is, the
last thing that Chairman Aleshire does before the end of his own term is
lobby to change the law that prevents high-level government officials from
later joining the crew. Interesting.
