Warship’s Mania

A sudden hand on my shoulder jolted me out of my reverie.

"That would be enough for now, my dear Shishi," Velteragni said, calm and collected. "It's looking like whatever remains of this blockade has been incapacitated or has surrendered."

"You're certain of that?" My sensor arrays were directly integrated into my perception of the world. I was more certain than she could ever be.

She mussed my hair. "Let's wait for the Fleet Captain's orders. In the meantime, do temper your passions."

"Temper my passions??" My hands trembled. I wrapped four arms around myself and tried to futilely do the same with some of my secondaries. "It's still bouncing around inside of me," I said in a low whisper, "That fire."

She glanced at the fire wreathed around Hekkamuk's spearhead. "I know." Her hand was on my head again. "What about your arboretum? What does your avatar there sense?"

I drew a portion of my consciousness towards that avatar. That part of me—alongside a few others—was in a sort of meditative state that put avatars deeper into what the Illustrious Siblings called Vatugnem, or, the Dreaming: the metaphysical realm accessed through our Contract Drives where the souls of us Ships were said to reside. It was the closest state I had to sleep.

"Croaking," I said softly, "Falling petals, the scent of their flowers. And..." I squinted my eyes in concentration. "Powdery sand blowing through the shapes between boulders." That last one were—I had been told—the calculations I was making in the Dreaming for the Korremzha Mil Vugni. An odd sensation for sure.

"Falling petals?" Velteragni asked. "Try to imagine them through all your avatars."

I breathed in through several noses and fixed most of my gazes on featureless spots on my bulkheads. Sounds, shapes, colors and smells were mentally pushed aside if they didn't relate to the falling petals: things so light even seemingly still air blew them off their courses to the floor. The air itself moved out of their way in swirls, changing their paths even more. Which, in turn, created more swirls in the air, et cetera, et cetera. Predictable behavior, if you took the time to look at it.

Velteragni held out a hand to catch the petals. Without thinking I had made them appear in the holographic projection of the command dais. "I take it you've calmed down."

I nodded and turned the petals into a hard light projection, giving them subtlest weight and texture in her hand. A flutter of her eyelids and a quiet parting of her lips told me she hadn't counted on me to do that.

"Don't fully let go of your Warship's mania just yet," she continued. "Vigilance rewards with liberty."

The fire projected by Hekkamuk had gone low but not completely gone. I could still feel its ebb and flow inside along with a desire for the return of the tidal wave. And for the first time I wondered: What in the hell is this feeling?

"This is normal?" I asked softly.

"Hm?" Velteragni looked confused for a moment about my question. "There will always be times when the action in a battle slows—Ah!" Understanding had suddenly come to her. "That's right. It has been hundreds of years since we last had a young Ship enter battle for the first time." She was lost in thought for a moment. "I do recall captain Zhulaimer mentioning this a couple of times."

Captain Zhulaimer Irosham—affectionally called 'brother Iro' by my sisters—was a curious case. Due to a quirk in his genetics his lifespan had already gone beyond thrice that of a regular Mezhained. Ela had bestowed him his rank on her launch day and 687 years later he was still there beside her. I couldn't even begin to imagine being in military service for that long, but considering what I was I would one day not even have to imagine, it would simply become my reality.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"What did he say," she repeated, "From what I could tell..." She went silent and for the first time I saw my captain visibly lose her composure, if only slightly. "It's something you should ask your sisters about."

"I see." My words were spoken softly.

"So sorry, Shishi! I think the old brother's lesson here was that a young Vugni's emotions get so strong that us Mezhained can't relate."

I looked down at my unnatural number of hands with their impossible colors and exposed mechanical joints, so different from her pale flesh. Who had ever heard of a berserker spaceship? The Mezhained, apparently.

I looked back up and gave her a little smile. "It's fine, Ragni."

Before either of us could say anything more a signal from Velramuran arrived. Whether this was good or bad luck, I couldn't tell.

"Message from fleet captain Obettur, ma'am," Adumed dutifully reported.

Like a true professional, Velteragni shed any semblance of weakness the moment she interacted with our crew. "Let's hear it," she said, voice resolute.

The voice of the fleet captain boomed out. "No more enemy resistance detected. We have achieved victory. All Warships wait for further orders." The man obviously wasn't one to mince words.

Velteragni turned back to me. "Play the message on every deck, Shishi. Let our crew know their first battle was a success."

"Yes, captain!"

The news was met with jubilation everywhere. Great cheers especially erupted at the word 'victory'. On the Contract Drive's decks all the crew ran their hands through the talismans hanging from my arms, creating a clattering ringing noise mixing with their hollering. To accommodate them I held out my arms. It was surprisingly fun.

On sensor deck 3 enlisted Guruiel effortlessly picked up my avatar with his big strong hands and swung me around, my legs gravitating outward. I was too flustered to protest. His bellowing rose above everybody's combined voices. "Hah! This is our miracle Ship all right! Let the hands of the King of Sorrow repent and make way for our mighty Vugni!"

"If you smash her avatar against her bulkhead you'll have to repent for a dozen lifetimes, Guruiel," one of his closest friends, Iaram, shouted back, her voice carried by laughter. Neither could hear my whimpering above their own noise.

Even in my otherwise peaceful arboretum the sounds of celebration could be heard. It pulled my avatar out of the calm of the Dreaming. As good a time as any to stretch those legs and see what was happening. The petals would keep falling without me.

I found Ozhomannel hunched over the gnarly roots of a tree that looked too old to be planted in a Ship as young as I. "Oh, Ship Shissurna," he said, barely taking the time to look up, "My apologies, but I'm gathering ingredients for a meal." He held up a greyish light brown mushroom with a cap that curled at the edges. I sensed the interjection of my knowledge tree but it failed to identify it.

"My knowledge tree doesn't recognize it."

"These are derived enough that they've earned a name of their own for a while but I haven't felt particularly inspired to think of one and they're not important enough to get priority. What is important, though, is that I can make a great soup with them. If you would bestow me the honor I could make a portion for you as well. That is, if you are interested in unnamed mushroom soup."

"Maybe another time," I said. "What about that chocolate cake to celebrate my first victory?"

He laughed at that. "It would be the second time I've used that recipe. Good thing I wrote it down."

"Maybe you can add that recipe to my knowledge tree instead of the mushroom."

He laughed again. Louder this time. "Sure. Who would you teach it to? I'm not retiring from my duty anytime soon, I'll have you know."

Right then an impulse got hold of me. "I will make one myself for Velteragni." As Becca I had only baked four times and each time it was the same simple pound cake recipe. The first time was to mollify aunt Carol with a display of traditional femininity. The other times were all in the last few years of that life when Becca was roommates with Nicole. That was also when she actually enjoyed the activity and sharing the end result even the one time when said end result was black on the outside. If I was going to try my best in this life baking a cake for the people who care about me would be a good start.

"Very unusual. I am perfectly willing to make it in your name." Ozhomannel was taken aback but I could tell he could be opened up to the idea with a little push. It was only a matter of finding out what he valued.

"I wish to reward her with my gratitude. Is this not how the Mezhained do so? Sharing resources? In this case the ingredients for a chocolate cake." I had observed enough to conclude their society was similar to most of the humanity I knew. I wasn't exactly going out on a limb here.

"Do you not reward her by providing her warmth and shelter? What about keeping our enemies at bay with your arsenal? Are those not the greatest resources to share?" He had a good point there but I didn't care.

"She's guiding me through me through my young life. I'd like to believe our bond means more to me than just fulfilling my duty."

Gears turned in his head. "Making something with one's own hands for another—whether it be chocolate cake, or a bicycle—is a very Mezhained way of expressing one's love, and, naturally, it would benefit a newly launched Vugni to learn the ways of the people she protects." Got him. "Very well, I will teach you my recipe to the best of my ability. May it become a fine branch on your knowledge tree."

"Thank you so much!"

Back at the command center we had received another message with the order to regroup at the Erlkandr-Ikkatfo 4 tunnel. With Vakkaidu busy plotting a course I prodded my captain with an index finger and spoke to her through her implants. Do you like chocolate cake?

She responded. If I didn't like anything that had chocolate in it I wouldn't be Mezhained.

Then I'll make you one once I learn Ozhomannel's recipe. It's really good.

You would go to the trouble to bake a cake by yourself? Why?

Because it won't mean anything if I make him do it.

She turned to look at me. The angle of her eyebrows suggested surprise or disbelief. It was time to see if the same argument I had used on Ozhomannel would work on her.

He told me Mezhained express their love by making something with their own hands and it would help me learn to understand the people I protect.

Expressing your love by baking a cake... She lowered her gaze in an attempt to keep her emotions hidden. Was she trying to fight back tears? Had my plan turned out to be a big mistake?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—

"Captain, is something wrong?" Vakkaidu had noticed.

"It's quite all right, Vakkaidu." Velteragni showed her smile. "Shissurna just reminded me of a cherished memory from my youth. These are tears of joy." No. That wasn't completely true. There was a bittersweetness in her expression. "If you wish to know." She got up from her cushion, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Our Ship wishes to bake a chocolate cake for me."

All the command staff looked nonplussed. It was time to defend myself. "It's to learn the ways of you Mezhained. I know you think I do more than enough by protecting you, but... small gestures are important as well!"

Kanmurdi broke the silence. "The light of life is still new to her, it makes sense that she tries to understand the world around her."

"Is this really proper?" Vakkaidu protested. "We maintain her and she protects us. Isn't that how it's supposed to go? Doing something like baking a cake for a human would embarrass her divinity, if you ask me."

"Outside of her duties, a divine being can do whatever humans value," Salukam said, "The human spirit posesses a divinity of its own. Big or small, the things we do and value stem from that divinity. Besides, it would be a great honor to partake in a chocolate cake baked by a Vugni, would it not?"

Velteragni resolutely interjected before this debate inspired whole new schools of theology. "It's settled then. Shishi, I order you to learn Ozhomannel's recipe and make it your own."

I stammered. "Ah, uh... yes, ma'am."

She squeezed my shoulder. "I will judge whether you valued the spirit of chocolate like us Mezhained do, whether you value making something with your own hands like a Mezhained, whether you value the simple act of giving, and whether you've learned to understand us a bit more. Your fate, our fate!"

"My fate, your fate!" I had balled the five hands that weren't holding Hekkamuk into fists in the contagious excitement of Velteragni's speech. I felt like my heart was beating at the same galloping rate as hers, despite not having one. Nothing would stand in my way of making that chocolate cake now.