Chapter 2: First Officer Blake
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Clinton Blake was the pride of his parents, The Academy, and his high school teacher Wendy, who still looked him up online from time to time to see how he was doing. This was, in part, because he was the youngest person to have graduated as a First Officer in peacetime. Ever. There had been no fast-tracking, no need for fresh blood in the ranks. He had simply excelled, gotten spectacularly lucky to have been noticed by his superiors and encouraged by his aunts, and now he was to be a name people recognized and, quite probably, resented a little bit. The other reason Clinton was popular with those who weren’t envious of his meteoric rise to stardom was the fact that he was eminently likeable. 

Sure, from a distance he’d get glares from his peers, but anyone who spent more than five minutes talking to him would often feel better about themselves for having met Clinton. Fifteen minutes and they’d be caught in riveting conversation. Longer than thirty minutes and it was over, they’d consider Clinton a friend. Other than the power of his personality, which was considerable, there was also the matter of his permanently unkempt hair, which seemed to beg to be ruffled, and a smile so disarming it could probably end wars. He was also five foot tall, making him distinctly unthreatening at first glance. 

All of this combined to make Clinton Blake come across as the kind of person people wanted as a friend. Someone who would uplift them, make them a better person, and have a great time in the process. Which was why it was so important to Clinton that his inner life stayed his own personal secret. The people who looked up (or down) at him would’ve been appalled to know that he suffered severe anxiety, which was always lurking behind the surface. Not that he was always miserable, of course. But it was there, in the background radiation of his life, like a radio not quite tuned to the right frequency, occasionally drowning out the brighter colours and the brighter people. Like the one currently trying to drag him back to bed. 

“Clint,” Andromeda Gataki -- Andy to her friends -- groaned, “pleeaase.” She clawed at the sheets where Clinton had been just seconds ago, to no avail. He’d already shuffled off to the small bathroom in their quarters. Andy grumbled for a moment, then stole all the sheets and pillows. “What time is it?” she asked loudly. The display was next to her bed, a small black box on a pristine nightstand so new it still smelled of the factory line. She wanted to make a point, however.

“It’s half past three,” Clinton said, flossing. “I can’t be late, Andy. This matters.

“I know, Clinton,” Andromeda said as she rolled out of bed, having wrapped herself in blankets. “But you’re expected in two and a half hours.” She’d known this was going to happen, of course. Clint hadn’t been any different at the Academy. That didn’t mean she didn’t get to be grumpy about it though.

“I don’t want to risk being late,” Clinton said as he flossed. “She picked me. Me!”

“How long is the walk from here to the bridge?” Andy said, leaning against the frame into the bathroom with a playful smirk on her face. Clinton looked at her for a second, blushing slightly. 

“Six minutes,” he said. At least he had the good sense to look a little guilty. “But it’s my first day.” He was practically mewling. Andromeda couldn’t help but smile. He was utterly disarming, not in the least because she was easily four inches taller than him. It was easy to forget he had both a calculating mind and could easily overpower her physically. He was incredibly capable in almost every aspect, he just didn’t look it. 

“You’re precious, you know that?” Andromeda walked up behind him, wrapped herself, and her blanket, around him, and kissed him on the back of the head. He blushed again. She’d learned early on in their relationship that he was easily able to shrug off people teasing him for his height, especially in public, but that it was harder when it came from people he cared about. In private, however, he seemed to enjoy the fact that he was smaller than her, and she didn’t mind being tall enough to kiss the top of his head. He made a little noise that was halfway between an objection and happiness. For a moment, they stood there in blissful silence, until she finally let him go. “Fine, get ready then. You know they extended the launch by a whole day just to give you the time to fly over.”

I know,” Clinton cried dramatically. “Another reason I need to be there earlier.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Andy said as she got undressed to take a shower, “You’re expected to be there at six because that’s already two hours early than when your official shift starts?” He nodded at her in the mirror, glaring. “Just making sure,” she said with a grin and stepped into the shower. The hot water was a godsend, and she took her time to get washed. Andromeda and Clinton had ridden up the New York Elevator to the shipyard at the last minute, and neither of them had found a lot of time to get ready, or even take a lot of their belongings. Not that either of them needed much. Clinton’s assignment mostly required uniforms, and Andy’s status as a civilian researcher meant that she technically didn’t require anything to function on board. Any tools she’d need would be provided. Her special shampoo was an exception, and she’d stocked a lot. 

When she got out of the shower, Clinton was already fully dressed and straightening his uniform in the mirror. He looked away bashfully when he saw her. “I have to be off, Andy,” he said softly, waiting for her to have wrapped a towel around herself. His difficulty with nudity was another one of his idiosyncrasies, but he’d reassured her it was neither a dislike of her, nor did he want her to change her behaviour. Quite the contrary, in fact. Andromeda thought it was cute. She kissed him on the cheek. 

“Knock ‘em dead, Clinton Blake. You’re amazing, and don’t let them bully you. You’re the coolest, smartest, strongest, most capable person I know.” Another kiss. “And I love you.” He turned to her, took a deep breath, and then the insecurity she knew was there disappeared like snow in the springtime sun, and he seemed to grow a foot taller for a moment. Then he took her face in his hands, kissed her, and smiled his boyish smile. The transformation was instantaneous and jarring, and Andy had only barely gotten used to it. 

“I love you too, Andromeda. Thank you. So much.” His ‘officer-sona’, as she’d teasingly called it, was so much more self-assured and yet approachable. She kissed him on the nose, and for a moment, the smaller Clint drifted to the surface. 

“Always, Clint. Now hut, I only have four hours until I’m wanted in Hydroponics, and I still have to choose socks.” 

“Dork.” 

“Nerd.” 

Clinton wrapped an arm around her waist and they shared one more kiss before he hurried out into the hall. Normally, a new member of the crew would use one of the wall-panels to guide them. At a user’s request, a marker dot would lead the way with a little line, to help people orient themselves along the ship. Clint, however, had memorized the ship’s plans on the way up, and other than some of the more labyrinthine corridors down in maintenance, he knew exactly where to go. It allowed him to walk with authority to where he was going, having learned early on that people tended to take him more seriously if he didn’t look lost. Not that there were a lot of people stopping him this early. The only other person he met was waiting for the elevator when he turned the corner. 

“Morning,” the man said as the doors opened and they both stepped inside. He was wearing the colours -- and patches -- of a science officer. The man looked at Clinton for a moment, his chevrons, and seemed to come to a conclusion. “Sir,” he added, and there seemed to be a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Morning,” Clinton returned, and cranked up the friendly smile, offering his hand. “Blake. First officer,” he said. It was best to get first impressions out of the way. Sure, they mattered, a great deal, but it was possible to barrel right past them into comfort, he’d learned. “Mister…” 

“Prakoso,” Hasan said, and he seemed happy to let his own face relax into a comfortable grin. “Call me Hasan. I know who you are, First Officer Blake.” 

“Please,” Clinton said, looking forward again with a smile as the elevator went up to the bridge. “It’s Clinton. If we’re going to be calling each other First Officer and Science Officer all day, we’ll never get anything done.” 

“Agreed. Good to meet you, Clinton.”

“And you, Hasan. Can I ask how you know me? It’s not exactly common for active personnel to know about freshly hatched officer material, if I understand correctly. I don’t have a reputation already.” He paused for a moment and looked sideways at Hasan for a moment, who had clasped his hands behind his back. “Do I?” Hasan shook his head.

“No, sir. But when someone like Captain Durand handpicks her second-in-command, you pay attention. So I did my research.” He looked down at Clinton. “You’re an impressive man, Clinton.” Clint winced. He didn’t like being treated like, well, his dad. Sure, being treated with respect was nice and all, but there was something about being treated as older than he was rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he appreciated the compliment.

“Thank you. And what do you mean, handpicked? Didn’t she choose everyone?”

“Nope,” Hasan said. “You’re the only one. Everyone else on the ship was assigned. Admiralty gave her the green light to reassign officers in case she objected, of course, but she didn’t take it. Only one position left to fill, and she filled it with you.” He paused. “Congratulations are in order, I think.”

“Fuck me running,” Clinton whispered, a hair louder than he probably should have, and Hasan burst out a laugh, before immediately straightening himself out.

“Apologies sir. I heard nothing. Sir.” He bit his tongue, and Clint could tell he was having trouble not laughing again.

“You’re fine, Hasan. It’s just a bit much to take in. I’m less than half her age, and all of this is making me feel spectacularly unqualified.” A part of him wondered why he was trusting Prakoso with an insecurity like that, they’d only just met, but Hasan had a quality to him that told Clinton he could be trusted, especially with something like this.

“For what it’s worth, s-- Clinton, I think you’ll do fine. I looked over your academic record. It’s…” Hasan just whistled. “She chose you for a reason, and I don’t think Captain Durand is the type to make decisions lightly. Or to make the wrong ones, for that matter.”

“I know, I learned about her at the Academy. She’s…”

“Yeah.” Hasan nodded at him. “Trust that you were chosen for a reason and you’ll be fine. Try not to worry. I can tell you’re the type to eat yourself up.” Clinton was taken aback for a moment, and then Hasan winked. “Your secret is safe with me, Sir. But you’ll find that most people aren’t as self-sure as they appear.”

The elevator opened, and both men straightened themselves out and stepped onto the bridge. It was empty, with one exception. Cathérine Durand turned around in her chair, a hot cup of coffee visibly steaming in her hand. 

“Gentlemen,” she said with a slight smile. “I thought you’d never show up.”

Bright new adventures await for all of them.

So, this is a new story (with several chapters already available for Patrons), and a new way for me to write stories. This story is, after all, a commission. But at the time of writing, it is not a commission of one person. Welcome to Among Brighter Stars, an ongoing, serial commission. The initial request was made by a patron, but everyone can contribute. That means that anyone (through Patreon or  by sending me a mail at [email protected], with "Commission ABS" in the header) can, if they want to, commission more chapters so more will get published in a month. That way, you can sort of vote on what you want more of. The cost is $20 per 1000 words, and half that for certain Patron tiers. Alternatively, you can just support me on Patreon and gain access to every chapter as its written, before anyone else does. All the cool kids are doing it!

I hope you like the system, and I hope you like the story. Don't worry, you'll see more soon. 

Also, check out my other new story, Eris, The First God of Chaos.

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