“You know,” Cathérine said, “I’m not very good at this.” She was looking out the window at the hangar. There was some movement, here or there, early birds who were so invested in their work they showed up so early it made their colleagues look bad, but for the most part, it was quiet. A lot of the guiding lights were still off, and it simulated night -- or at least early dawn -- well enough. Up here, the cycle of day and night was more artificial; the International Space Stations had to be, but the systems did a good job of making everything feel mostly natural. “The whole ‘group bonding’ thing, I mean.” Cathérine Durand turned around to face the room. Once the rest of her bridge crew had arrived, she’d requested the reserve crew come up to do pre-flight checks. Of course, the main crew would do them too, but she didn’t want to be in a situation where the first time the reserves had to do their job would be under stress. 

Cathérine looked around the bridge crew, standing and sitting around the room. The combination ready-and-conference room was adjacent to the bridge, where debriefings could be held, private conversations could be had, and disputes or disagreements might be solved out of earshot of the rest of the crew. It was nice enough. Some wood paneling mixed with the black screens, the ship’s virtual intelligence just a single command away. It was a good room for this kind of conference room, with a single wall, its vista so clear Cathérine still wasn’t sure whether it was simply thick glass or a near perfect real-time simulation of the outside. The perspective seemed real, at least. She looked all of her crew in the eye, one by one. Other than Hasan, who she’d met, and Clinton, who she’d chosen personally, she was still trying to memorize the faces of all of the members in her bridge crew. There was a tall woman with a soft jaw and hard eyes. It didn’t take Cathérine a second to figure out who this was, and that she was military. Other than that, there was another young person, maybe a little older than Clinton, who was her navigator. One other was her Helmsman, and then finally her Communications Officer. There were a lot of people to get to know. Sure, there would be time, but she also didn’t want to be forced to and possibly fail to remember people’s names during a crisis. 

“I’m not… really comfortable around people,” she said, being frank in a way she hoped would take away some of the anxiety or trepidation people might feel toward her. Her therapist had once told her that a lot of people respected a show of vulnerability. As someone who had spent most of her adult life in the navy, the very notion seemed suspect, but where else to apply what she’d learned in therapy than on complete strangers? “I’m not going to do the… round-table thing. But I wanted to make it absolutely clear what we’re here to do. Why we’re here. I want all of us to work toward the same goal.” She paused for a moment, letting her words breathe for a moment. “Why are we here, Mister Prakoso?” She turned to her science officer, identified by the little blue line around the collar and wrists of his uniform. 

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and she was grateful he didn’t start off with a joke. He not only seemed to be able to tell that these first impressions were important, but was on her side as well. A surprise, to be sure. “My name is Hasan Prakoso. I’m the Science Officer aboard The SS Sollipsis,” Hasan said. “It’s the first ship capable of sustained interstellar flight beyond testing purposes.” Most people there already knew this, but some things bore repeating, Cathérine figured. “As such, the Sollipsis and its crew have been tasked to venture out into the Local Fluff, the Local Bubble and, eventually, as much of the Orion arm as we can cover. We will stay in contact with the Solar System through the seeded buoys, but, unless something changes drastically, we will not return to Earth for at least five years. In this time, at least sixty-eight years will have passed on earth.”

“That is… an accurate summary,” Cathérine said. “But not entirely what I’m looking for. Don’t get me wrong,” she said, comforting Hasan who looked a little hurt, if only jokingly so, “you’re not mistaken. We will be traveling. Far. Further than anyone ever has. But that’s only how we’ll be going places. It’s not what we’re doing. Why we’re doing it. Mister Blake?”

Clinton Blake shifted in his seat slightly. A little uncomfortable with the new uniform, Cathérine noted. Good. She hadn’t wanted a seasoned crew of military men and women who could turn off feelings of discomfort. “Well,” Clinton said, “if I understand the mission statement correctly, it’s our job… our, uh, duty, to expand what we know about the universe. To see what’s out there, and report back.” He looked around the room for a moment, and Cathérine saw he was still a little unsure of himself, but also that he didn’t let it stop him from speaking up. “My name is Clinton Blake,” he added, and straightened up a bit, as if challenging people to defy him, “First Officer on board the SS Sollipsis.” His rank was confirmed by the silver lining in his jacket. A part of Cathérine wanted to clap, resisting the urge because of how aggressively it would undermine his authority. She knew how difficult a position he was in. He’d be forced to prove himself to every one of the crew individually, most of whom would not take him seriously because of his age and stature. 

“That’s closer to what I mean. We are to… look to the stars,” she said, casting a glance to the front of the hangar through the large window. The tall woman spoke up, the one whose file she’d recognized. The little black line on her grey uniform identified her as the head of security, and she certainly looked the part. Her name was Evangeline Mayes, and Cathérine had read her file with equal parts respect and resignation. Ms. Hayes was a decade and a half younger than her, but had been on active duty for almost as long. Her combat record was flawless, and her numerous commendations from the people who’d served under her had definitely drawn Cathérine’s eye. That, and the fact that she had, for the past two years, been receiving treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder. She certainly didn’t look it. She seemed to be mostly relaxed, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, paying attention. 

“To boldly go?” Evangeline asked. Cathérine shook her head with a little smile. 

“No,” she said. “No, we will not go boldly. We will go carefully.” She squinted, as if trying to see further, will more stars into existence. “There might be strange new worlds, which we will carefully study. We might seek out new life, life that no human has ever seen, and we will observe. If we encounter civilizations, we will wait, carefully and quietly, until we are absolutely certain that our actions are beneficial. We will go, gently, where no one has gone before.” She turned to the room. “Do you all understand me?” There were several nods. “We are walking into a wild, untamed universe, and we will not trample all over it. We will treat it with the respect and dignity it deserves. What we do, we decide, but through our actions, we will be the ambassadors of our entire species. So whether we hide or we show ourselves, whether we choose to engage with and uplift or try to subtly help without being seen, we will not cause harm.” Her mouth tightened to a thin line. “I’ve caused enough of it already. I am… all of us, we have been chosen for the unenviable task of being the first for a lot of humanity’s firsts. We have to be better. We have to be the best out there.” A lot more resolute nods. She took a silent breath. “Dismissed,” she said, and her bridge crew left the Ready Room -- she needed a better name for it -- while she looked at the stars, thinking about what the next few years would hold. 

“Captain,” a voice said behind her, and Cathérine almost jumped. She thought she’d been alone, but apparently someone hadn’t left to go to their station yet. As she turned around, she noticed that Clinton and the Helmsman -- Jackson Something? -- had stayed behind. The Helmsman was a few inches taller than Clinton, and had a look about him of someone who was used to following commands, although not necessarily in a Navy setting, of someone who knew where to find trouble. His collar was just a little too loose, his hair a little too ruffled, to hold up under military inspection. Cathérine had to remind herself that, while the Sollipsis had been sent out by the Navy, this was not a military vessel. 

“Yes?” she asked. “How can I help you…” She struggled to remember the Helmsman’s name, and decided to let him introduce himself, instead. 

“Jackson Manderley, ma’am,” he said, saluting. Despite the fact that his appearance was less than military-perfect, he did seem to have a no-nonsense attitude. Cathérine appreciated that. “I was wondering… some of the crew were wondering if there would still be time to make certain requisitions. If we really are leaving tomorrow, I doubt there will be time, but… I have to ask.” His voice was quiet, as if he was trying to keep a secret. She’d read something about it in his file. Apparently, an accident had damaged his vocal chords, and while he could speak up in emergencies, a raspy whisper was his default tone of voice. Very well. Cathérine nodded. 

“I understand. Well, yes and no. The crew has until tomorrow to fill out requisitions. They will be sent out when we leave.” Jackson and Clinton both looked confused. “We will depart tomorrow, as soon as all preparations are finished. Then we will make a quick jump to the edge of the Kuiper belt, deploy a beacon, then jump to the Ares Stations, and finally head back after, ideally two days at most.” She looked at the two of them. “I’m not going to fly into the great depths without getting a feel for how she purrs.” Jackson smirked and nodded.

“Good enough for me,” he whispered, then gave another loose salute. “Thank you, Ma’am.” He turned on a dime, and exited the room, leaving just Cathérine and Clinton Blake. There was a moment of awkward, silent tension. Cathérine wasn’t going to be the one to break the ice. He was her first officer. If he wanted to say something, he had to learn to come out and say it. 

“Captain,” Clinton said, sooner than Cathérine had expected and longer than she’d hoped, “I have to ask.” She nodded. She’d expected the question.

“Why you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why they picked me?” Cathérine asked him, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head, then paused, and cocked his head. Not sure. That was fine. “Because we don’t know what’s out there,” she said, and looked to the inky darkness between the stars. “There is an infinite ocean out there and we don’t know what lurks in it. And I think the suits figured that, given only one ship and noble intentions, I might be able to salvage the ship if the universe is… truly hostile.” She looked at Clinton, who stood at attention, listening intently. Maybe he’d relax somewhat, over time. Even a fitted suit seemed ill-fitting on the boy. “But I don’t want to go out there assuming it is.” She sighed. “Except that I’m not qualified in case it isn’t. I want to be hopeful, Mister Blake. But I’m afraid I’ve become too… jaded.” She turned to him again, and noticed that his shoulders hung a little lower. “Don’t be too disheartened, First Officer Blake,” she said with a smile she hoped was encouraging. “I didn’t pick you because you were the youngest in your class.” A short pause. “Well, not just. I chose you because you have an energy to you, a desire to excel, yes, but a desire to do better and do more. I recognize a lot of myself in you, but I was… born into a different time. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Captain,” Clinton said. 

“Good. I’m always available to talk more.” She paused when she realized what she’d said, the horrendous prospect of unannounced and unexpected social engagements. “Within reason, of course.” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile on Clinton’s face. “But as my First Officer, I need to know I can trust you to carry out my orders, command in my stead when necessary, and interpret when I am incapacitated. I have the utmost faith in your ability in that regard.”

“Thank you, Captain.” 

“Good,” she said. “Now, if that is all, you are dismissed.”

“Aye, Captain.” 

“Just Cathérine,” she said. “When it’s just us you can call me Cathérine. Or Durand, if you insist on being formal.”

“Yes, Captain.” They both smirked at each other for a moment. Oh, yes. Clinton would do nicely. 

“Now, be so kind as to head out there and finish the preparations. I will join you all in just a moment.” Clinton saluted and stepped out of the room. Captain Cathérine Durand clasped her hands behind her back and looked to the stars again. In her mind, she was already flying. Tomorrow couldn’t arrive fast enough.

Elamimax

Meeting the new crew!

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.