Chapter 31: The Mutineer
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Chapter 31
The Mutineer

 

The atmosphere in the Engineering room was strange. Exceedingly strange. Not quite frosty, but not warm, either. Like it was thawing, somehow. Blake looked around the room with curiosity and saw a lot of friendly faces, in a way she hadn’t expected. Some older engineers even gave her the one-finger invisible-hat tip, which she always appreciated a little more than a traditional salute. A salute was a sign of deference. It was an acknowledgement of rank and position. The casual hat-tip was a sign of respect. And though she didn’t like it, she knew why she got it. 

Especially among the non-officer crew, her refusal to follow the Captain’s orders had spread like wildfire. She had gained a reputation of standing up for the lives of the crew, even if it meant being tried for mutiny. Of course, it hadn’t turned out that way, but that hadn’t really mattered all that much. What had mattered to the crew had been the situation and the statements made. Captain Durand had risked the crew, in their eyes, and Blake hadn’t been willing to stand for it. 

She made sure to walk casually through the room. She didn’t want to put anyone on edge. Besides, she wasn’t technically here in any official capacity. Ellen Gosseyn stood by the glass window overlooking the engine. As soon as she saw Blake, she looked off to a closed door with a confused expression for a moment, handed the tablet to a nearby member of her staff, and walked over to her. 

“First Officer,” she said, giving a snappy salute with an almost perfect and completely unnecessary heel-clack, then relaxed. “How can we help you?” Blake allowed a smile to creep up onto her face a little bit. It struck her as strange. She’d expected to feel intimidated by Gosseyn, but the Chief of Engineering was remarkably warm, the steely gaze from her profile sheet having seemingly been reserved for the photographer. 

“Here to see you, actually,” Blake said. “I’ve been stuck thinking about some stuff, and then I realized you and I hadn’t actually talked yet, so I figured I might as well go down here and have a proper conversation.” She smiled, and Ellen nodded. 

“Let’s walk,” Gosseyn said. It wasn’t a question, but her eyes nonetheless made it one. She was clearly making sure Blake wasn’t feeling pressured. They walked down the walkways of the engine room, all the machines humming happily. “I’m surprised you came down here, Miss Blake,” Ellen said. Blake bit her lip at the subtle affirmation. Sure, it was nice hearing the other Officers gender her correctly, but the ease with which Gosseyn did it, the lack of hesitation, was like a jolt to her spine. She almost jumped. “Not that I mind, of course.” She navigated the two of them through to a door at the back, which Blake remembered led to several larger maintenance hallways that had been designed for vehicle passage. “We don’t often get visits from people up on top, so we’re not always prepared to receive the more prestigious officers.”

“Well, good thing it’s just me, then,” Blake said with a grin she hoped conveyed the joke. Ellen responded with a surprisingly high-pitched little chuckle. Ellen opened the door, and they walked down the hall. Blake couldn’t help but wonder where they were going, but she was happy to trust the Chief of Engineering to lead them somewhere they could talk comfortably. “Can I… tell you something a little personal, Chief Engineer Gosseyn?” she asked. 

“Of course, Miss Blake,” Gosseyn said, “and for the love of God, call me Ellen. “Chief Engineer Gosseyn” makes me feel like I ought to be an alcoholic Scotsman. What’s the matter?” She led them into a side room. Blake had seen the room on schematics, but hadn’t given it a second thought. It was an area with a redundant access hatch and could be used for ventilation or storage. However, it had clearly been refitted to be a recreation room. 

She almost said something. After all, the Engineering Deck had its own rec rooms and facilities. But then again, the Engineering Crew did things its own way, and it kind of made sense for them to have outfitted a room of their own, rather than to wait for some far-off pencil-pusher that ain’t never set foot on no spaceship to design it for them. That seemed to be a logical conclusion to make, Blake figured. A few crew members, who she presumed might not have been off-duty just yet, were sitting on the couch and sipping something she presumed wasn’t the kind of thing you ought to be sipping on company time. They stared at her like a deer in headlights. If they didn’t recognize her, they recognized the insignia that designated her rank. 

They were at an impasse. If she said something, the rapport she’d been building up between herself and Ellen would be gone, and she’d be First Officer Blake again. But if she didn’t say something, well, that meant there were two potential drunk crew-members working on an engine that didn’t, and that was a risk she wasn’t sure she was willing to make. 

“Art, Isaac, a week at the aft hydraulics,” Gosseyn said with a voice that made Blake’s knees buckle. The two men jumped up and past her in a flurry of movement and noise. When they were out of sight, the other two people in the room chuckled. One handed the other what appeared to be a note over the game of chess they’d been playing. Gosseyn raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, then turned to Blake. “I’m sorry, Miss Blake,” Ellen said as she walked into the room proper. “I know this doesn’t exactly reflect positively—”

Blake interrupted her with a raised hand. “No need,” she said. “I know how it is.” Then, almost as a statement, she walked in like she’d been here every day for months, and threw herself down one of the couches that had been set up, and sighed with relief. While she hadn’t been on her feet doing hard labour, like most of the people here had, it was always easier to let off some anxiety and steam when sitting down on a good couch. Ellen smirked, grabbed two bottles of water from a cooler, and tossed one to Blake, who almost missed it. 

“Right,” Ellen said, and sat down on the other couch. “So what can I help you with, Blake?”

“Well, you’ve got it right there,” Blake responded, pointing with the bottle. “Blake. No first name. That’s so… impersonal.” Ellen nodded as she drank from the water bottle. The two crewmembers on the other side of the room pretended to be focused on their game, but they were clearly listening. Well, Blake figured, couldn’t hurt to humanize herself. “I never figured I would have to choose my own name, you know? And now that I do, I can’t… find the right one.”

Ellen sucked her teeth for a second. “So you came to me because… you want to ask me if it’s okay to take Ellen, because it’s objectively a fantastic name?” She bowed her head graciously. “I think I can allow it.”

Blake laughed. “Heh, I’m afraid not, although I can’t disagree that your name absolutely has a quality to it. But I think I want something that’s distinctly mine.” Gosseyn raised her bottle to that. Taking a breath, Blake decided to push the gambit. “The problem is, anyone I ask for ideas upstairs has ideas, but they’re always… very poetic.” 

“Ah,” Ellen said. “Flowery, meaningful, etcetera?”

“Exactly,” Blake said, leaning back. “And it had me bouncing around from one to the other, and none of them sound like what I wanted. Which is when I realized that that’s because they were giving me a theoretical solution to a practical problem. And everyone knows, if you’ve got a practical problem…” She waved generally in the direction of not just Gosseyn but the whole floor. 

“Why not ask an engineer?” Ellen said. “Yeah, I see your reasoning. I’m glad at least one person up there has a decent head on their shoulders.” She shook her head. “I’m not surprised you didn’t get a decent answer.” Her face was apologetic for a second. “Don’t get me wrong, what you’re going through sounds really, really difficult, in a lot of ways. I just wish some of it wasn’t.

“What do you mean?” Blake asked, gently prodding. Ellen stared at the bottle. 

“Just… seems like being poetic is the general way to go about things up there, and with something important,” she gestured at Blake, “feels sometimes like it’s more important to them to have made the gesture than to actually look at the problem..” She shook her head. “Sorry. Just easy to get frustrated.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I understand.” Blake paused for a moment, and let the silence hang, until Ellen looked at her, and she made eye contact. “I do. Trust me, I know all about how frustrating well-meaning gestures can be.” She sighed. “But a well-meaning gesture is also what got me to realize who I was, so maybe they’re not all bad.”

“Hah! Maybe,” Ellen said, and sipped some more of her water. “Just… wish there was more than empty gestures when it came to actually flying this damn ship.” Blake didn’t say anything, and just waited for Gosseyn to continue. “Like… “help name the core planet” or whatever little game they have coming down from up top? What is that even supposed to do for us down here? We didn’t even get a say whether or not there were going to be aliens on the ship, let alone dock us at a whole damn planet of them.” 

“At the end of the day it’s the Captain’s decision,” Blake said, and realized that that might not have been the right response. 

“Well maybe it shouldn’t be,” Ellen snapped back. “You figured it wasn’t her decision to make when she risked all of our lives on some kind of… what? A gamble? A statement? I understand that the ship goes where it has to, Blake, but we’re going there real fast, and a lot of people are worried everyone up there is outpacing everyone down here. Poetry gets you far, but you’re not getting there without your engines.”

“Yeah,” Blake said, and thought for a moment. “So what wouldn’t be an empty gesture, then?” 

The question seemed to take Ellen aback for a second, and she chewed on it. “Well,” she said, “for one, we’d like to be included when it comes to the big things. And I don’t mean like, ship-wide census. Never get anything done. But my people talk to me, and I feel like an idiot sending reports up the tubes.” She crumpled up the bottle and tossed it in a recycling can across from them. “And just… don’t get me wrong, I know the Captain’s a military woman. She’s got a penchant for the big heroics and the speeches and such. But for Christ’s sakes, don’t use the lives of the damn crew to make your damned statements. Sorry.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been a lot.”

“Okay, Ellen,” Blake said. “Okay. I’ve got a question.” Ellen looked at her. “Hypothetically, say I can get that done… Will you turn the engines back on?” 

“Maybe,” Ellen said, and then realized she’d casually sauntered into it. Her eyes narrowed.

“She won’t hear it from me,” Blake said, leaning forward and leaning her elbows on her knees. “Not unless you’re okay with me talking to her. Hell, you can be there if you want to be, Ellen.”

Ellen took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands behind her head, and seemed lost in thought for a moment. Blake waited patiently. This was it. Moment of truth. Chief Engineer Ellen Gosseyn scrunched up her face, then stood up, and looked down at Blake. “Miss Blake,” she said, and offered a hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” As Blake took it, Ellen pulled her upright. “But you’d better be good for it.”

“Swear on my last remaining name,” Blake said with a little smile. That got a laugh out of Gosseyn. 

“Fair enough! Speaking of which, still want help with that?” she asked.

Blake shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”

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