Hank — Roleplayer Guild

Oh Captain, My Captain

featuring the sublime and sensual @Stormflyx

Present day,
Omega

“Come on, man,” Delilah muttered to herself and groaned, scrunching up her face, as she pulled out a wrinkled pair of men’s undergarments from beneath the bed of her small room. She’d spent the last few weeks of her latest shore leave with Jameson, but she’d kicked him out the day before and told him to clean up after himself. Evidently, he had done a shitty job of it. She rolled her eyes and tossed the boxers into the trash before washing her hands one more time. Water dropped quietly from the tap, one drop every few seconds, after she turned it off and glanced around the room one last time, the only other sound to be heard aside from the constant, droning background noise of Omega. Spotless, just like they’d taught her at Jump Zero. The elcor concierge would be pleased. Delilah wondered if he’d talk to himself when he inspected the room. “Pleasantly surprised; the room looks to be in good order,” the woman said in a monotone voice and sniggered. 

It was early morning on Omega, or whatever passed for early morning on a space station like this, and Delilah had made sure she had gotten a good night’s sleep, a healthy meal and an extra boost from some mildly questionable, uh, supplements. She wanted to be in perfect health for her first day on her new job, and to be as presentable as possible. Having cleaned and packed, Delilah swallowed away her fear and stepped in front of the mirror, her mascara at the ready as if it was a weapon. She quickly, but expertly, applied her make-up and fluffed up her hair for maximum volume, holding it in place with a few dashes of hair spray, all the while trying to ignore the murderous glint she saw in her reflection’s bright blue eyes or the hungry grin that tugged on her mirror image’s lips. She finished just in time, as she did every morning, before the ice-cold claws of panic could climb into her throat, and turned away from the mirror with trembling fingers. 

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Delilah smoothed over the black and gray fabric of her best clothes -- a typical spacer’s ensemble, vaguely reminiscent of Alliance navy uniforms but decidedly more stylish. She inspected her nails one last time and nodded, satisfied. There was nothing left to do but leave. Putting on her coat and popping up the collar against the unexpected gusts of cold air from the system’s oxygen-recycling pumps that one became accustomed to walking into while navigating around Omega, Delilah grabbed her meager belongings, shouldering her backpack and hoisting up her travelbag onto her elbow. She winced slightly beneath the weight and hoped the Caelestis wouldn’t be moored at the arse-end of the docks. 

The Omega spaceport was abuzz with activity and the thrifty hum of business, an electrical undercurrent that permeated the air. Deals were made, transport was arranged and crews were assembled. Delilah loved this part of the job. The tentative excitement, the tingling thrill of the unknown. What was her captain going to be like, or the rest of her crewmates? Was it going to be a long haul or an easy job? And what about this distress signal, hm? Professional curiosity meant that the comms specialist couldn’t wait to get her own hands on the broadcast’s datastream and frequencies. She daydreamed about encrypted subliminal messages and hidden coordinates while she made her way over to the docking bay where the Caelestis was to be found, and it wasn’t until she laid eyes on the ship that she snapped out of it. 

The elegant, long prow of the salarian-made cruiser gleamed in the artificial lighting array that spun overhead, its underbelly dimly illuminated by the holo-glow of the landing strip. Delilah recognized it as an old model and a bit of a rarity these days, but a fine vessel and a beauty in her own right. “Hello there, old girl,” Delilah murmured and smiled up at the ship before she tapped her omni-tool a few times to send a short message. 

“Hi captain, I’m here.”

The blip of the message came through obtrusively to Naryxa’s own omni-tool, stowed away on the desk in her suite. She never did like wearing the thing when she grounded. It was just weight and flashing lights. A tattooed turquoise arc that made for an eyebrow raised curiously, and she placed down the puja that was in her hand, that she had been drawing lazily around the edge of a copper singing bowl, staring mindlessly out of her window at the virtual view of a vast mountainscape. 

“I’m here,” she repeated out in acknowledgement of the message as the last long vibration from the bowl played out her exit. Her feet found shoes in the doorway, and she moved quietly down the hall towards the arrival. 

Naryxa had dressed herself appropriately in a black bodysuit that felt almost too formal for her, but was correct for the day's affairs at least. She needed to make the impression of a captain and with this contoured silhouette, she absolutely did. Powerful, sharp shoulders, outlined in white striping that drew out the mellow lilac hue of her skin. 

As she made her way, she found herself stopped in her tracks- and her hands were instinctively brought to her lips. “Oh no,” she sighed; staring down at a plant that appeared to have been thrown from it’s decorative alcove. Not just any plant either, an Earthen delight, specially grown for the unusual colouring. Her prized Monsterra, with the split white and green leaves - sprawled out now across the floor in a heap of soil, amidst a shattered pot.

“Delilah, is it?” Naryxa called out - knowing she would be about halfway to the girl. “Don’t be shy - follow my voice,” she said, frowning down at the mess. 

“Yes ma’am,” Delilah called back, having stepped aboard the ship. Its elongated shape made it easy to navigate and she had little trouble finding the asari captain. On the way there, Delilah sniffed the air and appreciated how clean it smelled. Most spaceships stunk like the fifty-year-old footlocker that they were. And she liked the salarian design of the place, too. It was clean, functional and elegant. Nothing like the bulky and industrial machines that humans often made. 

She came upon the captain inspecting the fallen plant and Delilah quirked a brow of her own at the sight. “Uh, hi,” she said raised one hand in a languid wave. Tearing her gaze away from the dirt on the floor, she looked at Naryxa properly and felt herself straighten up a little immediately. The asari was beautiful and impressive to behold, her posture immaculate and her form striking in the bodysuit, and knowing that she had several human lifetimes worth of experience under her belt didn’t help to soften the impression. Delilah cleared her throat and conjured her best, professional smile. 

“Delilah Reed, reporting for duty,” the human adept said. “It’s nice to meet you, captain. You, uh… had a little accident there?” she asked and gestured at the tragedy on the floor.

“Someone had an accident…” the asari answered, narrowing her eyes down at the ground, and then taking a long glance down the sterile corridor. “Hmmm.” After a pause, the spell was broken, and Narxa returned her gaze to the human in front of her, and it was all of a sudden far less piercing, in fact she even smiled just a little as she regarded Delilah with her observant eyes.

“She is tough, she’ll persevere,” Naryxa said with a smirk as she stepped over the plant. “I still have to learn not to leave the nice ones in the path of reckless hands,” she chuckled. “So you are to be my new communications officer…” the asari said as she strode onwards, expecting the woman to keep up. “You’re quite young, but very accomplished from what I gathered from your dossier. You have experience of ships like this?”

Of course an asari would feel that Delilah was quite young, even if she herself didn’t feel that way anymore after passing the big three-o a few years ago. “I do,” she said as she struggled to keep up with the captain. She was still carrying around her luggage, after all, and sent hopeful glances into every room they passed with the wish that one of them would be crew quarters where she could dump her things. 

“I first worked on a cargo freighter but I’ve been on smaller crews and ships since then,” Delilah explained, audibly out of breath but soldiering on anyway. “Crews where it was just me manning the comms, too.” But Naryxa would know all of that, if she studied her dossier closely.

“Right,” Naryxa answered with a nod, looking across at Delilah with a smile. She began to slow down as they stepped into a communal space - with a counter for cooking against the wall. “The kitchen, obviously. It is stocked, so please help yourself to food and drinks when it pleases you. I’m not…. Asking you to work shifts,” she added, placing an elbow down on the bench and relaxing for the first time since Delilah had arrived. She’d sized the woman up enough by now. “There may be tasks that I’ll ask you to do throughout the day, but they’re to be completed at whichever pace suits you. All I ask is that they’re completed.”

“I try to plan a sit down team meal a few times in the week. Our pilot happens to be a decent enough chef. The last crew would eat breakfast together each morning,” the asari smiled. “Do you like breakfast?”

Delilah nodded along as Naryxa outlined the specifications of the job. It sounded reasonable enough, as the job notice had already hinted at the fact that the position was for more than just a communications officer, and she appreciated that the captain was generous enough with her trust not to enforce a schedule. The communal space wasn’t anything like a bunk, but Delilah couldn’t bear it anymore and gently lowered her bags to the floor, rubbing her shoulder and trying not to grunt in front of the captain.

The question about breakfast blindsided her a bit though, and she blinked. Nobody had ever asked her about breakfast before. “Uh… no, I guess not, actually,” Delilah admitted and chuckled. “I get nauseous if I eat anything before I’ve had my coffee, so I usually just… don’t. Not until lunchtime, anyway.” Then she smiled and shrugged. “But I don’t mind the company, so I’ll be there if that’s what the crew likes to do.”

“Well I’m not one for eating early either,” Naryxa responded with a quiet smile, watching as Delilah placed her bag on the floor. “I also partake in a liquid breakfast, but I’m a painfully late riser - so it’s unlikely you’ll find me here in the morning.” The asari opened up a cupboard, and removed two clean cups, sliding one into the tray of a machine beside her. With a chuckle, she pressed a button and brought the machine to life. “I hear the coffee onboard is actually, quite pleasant.”

At first, the machine seemed to cough out the first drips of the espresso, before settling into a steady stream, strong enough to fill the space with the arome. Naryxa watched as the rich brown drink began to turn golden and velvety into the cup. “Take a seat,” she said, casting a quick sidelong glance at Delilah but not much more than that. She was curious about the woman. “Now,” she began with a honeyed breath - removing the cup of coffee from the machine to sit it on the table. “When I advertised the position, there were… Quite a few other similar openings, shall we say.” The asari took her own seat at the table, crossing one leg over the other, and once again placing an elbow down in front of her. “Some offering some exceptional remuneration for a woman with your experience.” There was no question, but an answer was expected in the silence. 

Doing as she was told, Delilah sat down opposite Naryxa, observing how elegantly the alien took her seat and feeling a momentary pang of jealousy. She placed both of her arms on the table and leaned forward a little, relieved to take the pressure off her feet. “Well, yeah, there were,” Delilah said as she cocked her head at Naryxa, the ghost of a smile playing around her lips. She almost followed that up with ‘what about ‘em?’ but decided it was too soon to start antagonizing her new captain. “But none of them mentioned a distress signal,” she said, and then her smile fully materialized. “And none of them were captained by a former Huntress.” She laughed. “I did my homework.”

That made the asari smile, and her eyes sparkle. “I lived that life long before you were even born.” Her head tilted to the side as she found herself relaxing more in her seat in the young woman’s company. “It was a long time ago, a long and dangerous time ago. If you truly did your homework you’ll know that I retired that profession to hide in a lab, and behind a desk.” Naryxa took in a deep breath, watching Delilah, observing her in the chair, the slightest change of expression across her face. She wondered about the scars, but knew not to ask - rather, to wait to be told, at a later time. “The signal,” she eventually said, “I think most of this new crew thought the same thing. I’ll play it for you later, when everyone has arrived and settled in.” She felt a tingle across the back of her neck just thinking about it, and her eyes briefly narrowed again as she let the ghostly sensation fade. 

“Do you have any questions? Please - feel free to put me on the spot while it’s just you and I,” the asari offered, changing the subject. 

She had lots of questions about the job itself, like the equipment she’d be working with and the nature of the distress signal, but she figured they could wait. Delilah interpreted this as an invitation to ask about the captain herself. “Sure,” Delilah said and slowly leaned back in her chair, eyes darting around the kitchen while she thought of something to ask. 

The captain had seemed intimidating at first glance, but her warm and open demeanour was reassuring and Delilah felt more comfortable being herself. “Ah, right. Well, you mentioned this yourself already, kind of. What made you choose this line of work, after a lifetime -- well, a series of lifetimes to me,” she said and laughed again, “of war and science and… dancing, is that right?” Delilah’s eyes gleamed with something mischievous as she tried to imagine Naryxa in that kind of outfit. It turned out not to be a very hard thing to imagine. 

“It is surprisingly not an uncommon venture for maiden asari, we want to explore, and be free. We are restless. Dancing is an exciting career, a chance to meet so many unique individuals. It’s not unusual for asari to find a break from dancing through the connections they make,” Naryxa explained casually, only emphasising how absolutely normal it was. “I loved it,” she laughed. “If nothing else, there was plenty of money to be made, and it was fun. I remember it all with joy and fondness.”

She chuckled, as if she had recalled a memory or two as she had been speaking. “As for this… I had lost my mother, I wasn’t sure of my purpose. I had come into credits, and suddenly… The Caelestis came to me-” she waved her hands around her elegantly, as if demonstrating her surprise to Delilah. “How could I not?”

It was almost impossible for Delilah to imagine a society where it was normal for young women to have that kind of freedom, though she had come to understand in recent years that this was heavily coloured by her own experiences. “Wanting to be free,” she echoed and nodded. “I understand that. I guess when you put it like that, it makes sense,” Delilah mused. “It’s just… for us humans, dancing like that… it’s something people do when they’re out of other options, usually. It’s looked down upon,” she explained and looked at Naryxa with a thoughtful expression, before suddenly chuckling. “Stupid, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is unfair,” Naryxa said, feeling a sense of privilege that it hadn’t been that way for her, or for asari. 

She looked around the ship again. “Yeah, fair enough. It’s a fine vessel. And what’s more free than being captain of your own ship?” Delilah asked rhetorically. She was beginning to understand the asari mindset a little better. Why not follow your heart, if you have all the time in the world? She turned back to Naryxa. “Are you single?” she blurted out. Realizing what she’d said, Delilah laughed and waved her hands quickly. “Wait, sorry, that came out wrong. I’m just curious if you… have a partner you share your life with, I guess.”

Unlike Delilah, Narxya didn’t laugh at the question, and instead, placed her hands on the table and looked down at them - at the tips of her fingers. “We asari would be considered very fortunate to find a life partner who can live alongside us,” she explained. “To share our lives. We dedicate our lives to development, to something that will outlive even us. We become mothers and share our lives with our children, and their children.” There was a hint of melancholy to her voice that she wasn’t ashamed to hide. “Everything else, is a series of shared moments that we keep as just that - moments, some longer than others.” She took another breath, and sat back in the seat, looking around at the blank page of a kitchen.

“Are you single?” the asari asked nonchalantly, finding mischief in it as she looked back at Delilah again. 

She felt small, to be considered nothing more than a moment, and felt bad that she’d broached a subject with such levity that caused such melancholy for Naryxa. So when the opportunity presented itself to change the subject, Delilah seized it with conviction. 

“Oh yeah,” she scoffed. “Big time. Not for anything near as sad and beautiful as… that,” Delilah said with a wry smile. “I just find people to be disappointing. Easier to be by myself. Have a little fun every now and then, sure, but then kick them to the curb,” she said casually. “And that gives me the freedom to do shit like this. Sign up for a mission to track down a distress signal to God knows where.” 

Delilah thought she sold the lie rather convincingly. 

She cleared her throat and gestured to the rapidly cooling cup of coffee. “Was that for you or for me?”

“It was for you,” the asari answered with a nod. “I prefer tea,” she winked. “It’ll be the first and last coffee I make you, so enjoy it.”

With a sigh, she straightened up in the chair again. “Kick them to the curb?” She said aloud — it was one of those very human sayings and she thought about it before chuckling. “I can’t say I’ve ever kicked anyone to the curb… I may have… Waved them out of the door?” It didn’t have the same ring to it. She laughed again before hunching forwards to place her chin into her hands. “And it’s Loki. We’re headed for Loki.” 

“You should try it sometime,” Delilah said and winked, reaching for the coffee at last and having a sip. She’d been so engrossed in their conversation before that she’d forgotten all about the brew until just then. It was good, even if it was a little cold, and she was grateful to the anonymous human traveler that boarded the Caelestis before her that must’ve installed the machine. 

She didn’t know anything about Loki as a planet, but she was familiar with the name. “Loki? That sounds ominous,” Delilah said and quirked a brow. “Do you know what Loki means to humans?”

Truthfully, Naryxa was familiar with the name, but she had a thought that perhaps Delilah would like to be the one explaining. The asari blinked slowly and shook her head. “To humans? No I don’t.” Bringing her hands to her lap, she gave a relaxed smile, “not something scary, is it?” 

“Loki is the god of mischief in one of the old religions of ancient Earth,” Delilah explained. “A real trickster god with all manner of crazy bastard spawn. A giant wolf, an eight-legged horse, a serpent that wraps around the world… I hope he doesn’t watch over this planet, or we’ll be in for a wild ride,” she said and smirked over the rim of her cup of coffee. 

“You’ll have to come to your own decisions when I play the message,” Naryxa said. “I hope not to discover a serpent wrapped around it. At best, a ship that has crash landed with the crew all well, just stuck. At worst… Well…” she said with a sigh. 

Not wanting to frighten the woman already, Naryxa began to get to her feet. “Come, how about I show you to your dorm?” 

Delilah’s curiosity was undoubtedly piqued by that unfinished sentence, but she elected not to pry just yet. All in due time. “Sure thing,” the woman said, got to her feet and hoisted up her bags again, her discomfort audible this time. “Fuck me,” she mumbled through gritted teeth, hopefully too quiet for the captain to make out the words. “Lead the way.”

As the two made their way through the rest of the ship, it was as they rounded a corner that another mess presented itself. Another human, slumped back against the wall with his legs splayed out — and a ghastly white complexion, fast asleep with his mouth wide open and a long strand of drool hanging from his lip.

“Uhhh, Delilah.” Naryxa began, with an arched brow and a hand on her hip. “This would be our pilot,” she said before shoving her foot into his side. “He’s normally in only a marginally better state. Just step over him,” she shrugged - doing so herself. He did not move. “The dorms are down here.”

“Charming,” Delilah replied and tutted at the pilot’s condition. She could only hope that he drank less when he was supposed to be flying the ship, but Naryxa’s comment did nothing to reassure her in that regard. Still, if the ship hadn’t crashed thus far, why would it start crashing now? She stepped over the pilot and followed after the captain. 

With a groan, the pilot woke up, rubbing his hand clumsily over his chin to catch his spittle. “Sorry aboot yer plant Cap,” he grumbled and slurred. “Al get her clean as a whistle later, just let me sleep this shite off,” he growled, drawing his legs up to his chest. 

Naryxa acknowledged him with a shake of her head before muttering quietly “I gave him the night off. He… Tends to drink more than he should.”

With another groan, he had pulled himself up to his feet now. “And ahd avoid the bathroom down there fer a bit.” If he had noticed Delilah, he simply didn’t care to be polite or anything but himself. With a complete lack of grace, he stumbled away to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that one,” Naryxa said, trying to hide her clear and apparent embarrassment with a forced chuckle. “Alright, is there anything else pressing before I leave you to it?” She asked, desperate to clear the image of the pilot, and scrub away the terrible first impression he must have made. 

Delilah watched the pilot stumble off with a chuckle of amusement, further exacerbated by Naryxa’s obvious embarrassment. She nodded and grinned. “Yeah, one last thing. Do you still dance?”

“Of course,” Naryxa answered quickly. “But only when nobody is watching,” she smiled. 

“Now that’s a damn shame,” Delilah lamented with a twinkle in her eye. “Alright, I’m going to get settled in. Call me if you need me, captain.” With a nod and a quick mock salute she crossed the threshold into the dorm, determined to find the best bottom bunk bed for herself.
Hank Moderator

Dionysian Mystery

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts
