Chapter Text
“Absolutely not!” Croy shouted–it was both a demand and a plea.
Captain Keevan smirked at him–clearly, he’d already forgotten who was in charge here, “It’s my only condition, Croy. I’m being generous.”
“You’re being difficult.”
“May I remind you that you’re the one who asked for sanctuary? You’re in no position to make demands.”
Croy opened his mouth to speak again, but thought better of it. He knew she was right, he was out of options. He sighed, and if it was physically possible for him, he might have even slumped his shoulders. “Fine. What is it, then?”
Captain Keevan lifted her eyebrows, looking for clarification–or perhaps she just wanted to hear Croy say it, he wasn’t sure.
“My ‘new’ name.” He said with disgust, “For my cover identity you insist on me maintaining?”
“First of all, it’s for your protection and ours. Secondly…that’s not for me to decide,” Captain Keevan’s eyes twinkled, “That’s up to the crew.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Well, they’re the ones that have to use it! Don’t you want them to remember it?“
Captain Keevan began making her way towards the exit of the bridge. Croy called after her, “Can I at least impose restrictions?”
“We’ll see.” She called back over her shoulder.
As the doors slid closed behind her, Croy looked down at the Chandrila Star Line uniform in his hands. He ran a hand over it and grimaced. With a huff, he strode off to find the nearest refresher so he could change.
***
The last note from Ouannii’s lumosynth lingered in the air. As it finally fizzled out, Ouannii turned her attention to Gaya, who appeared to be lost in thought.
Sandro, sitting on a nearby couch, offered an encouraging round of applause, but stopped when Ouannii raised a finger up to her lips. He mouthed a sheepish “Sorry!” And sunk back into the couch.
Gaya stepped out from behind the music stand that propped up her freshly-scribbled lyrics. The other two musicians watched her as she began to pace up and down the room. A week ago, this was one of The Halcyon’s galaxy class cabins, at the moment it was unrecognizable. Between scattered instruments and amplifiers, piles of notebooks and loose leaf papers, plus a cabinet practically spilling out with various brain food, Gaya had turned the two bedroom suite into a fully functioning music studio.
And she was already regretting it.
“It’s not working.” She finally breathed.
“Kavaa hopa?” Ouannii offered.
“No, the problem isn’t you, you’re always incredible, you know that.”
Ouannii shrugged in agreement.
Gaya sighed, she rubbed a hand down her face, “I’m just not feeling this one. It’s too…forced. Not genuine enough.”
“Is it okay if I say something?” Sandro piped up.
Gaya turned her head in his direction. She was still getting used to him sitting in on these sessions, but she figured that if she was going to ask her former backup musician to help her out on a favor, letting her boyfriend sit in was the least that Gaya could do. She nodded at Sandro to indicate she was listening.
“You’ve been working pretty hard at this for a while now, maybe it might help if you took a break?”
“I can’t. I need to stay focused.”
“I get that, but a change of scenery—.”
“This is my change of scenery, Sandro. But apparently views out into deep space don’t inspire me the way they used to…” Gaya’s voice trailed out with a hint of frustration.
Ouannii broke the silence, “Andoba?”
“No…it’s fine. Perhaps I just need some time to myself to think. Thank you for your help.” Gaya reached over for Ouannii’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Ouannii made sure to squeeze back before releasing herself to follow Sandro out the door.
“Hey,” Sandro began again, “if you want a distraction, they’re holding a vote at four to pick Croy’s new name.”
“…New…name?”
“Yeah! Captain Keevan asked us to go around and collect suggestions from everybody. I can add yours in, if you have one!”
“...I’ll pass for now.” Gaya was still confused, but not enough to press further. Maybe she’d ask more questions later.
The cabin door slid closed behind Sandro and Ouannii, leaving Gaya standing alone in the center of the makeshift studio. She wasn’t about to amble aimlessly through the atrium. Unless there was a reason for her to leave the room, she intended on staying there until her brain did something of use.
She picked up her pacing where she left off, opting to ignore the way the walls seemed to close in every time she turned her back on them.
***
Sandro and Ouannii made their way from crew member to crew member, all the while attempting to ignore the incensed former-Lieutenant shuffling behind them,
“This is outrageous! Get back here! Sandro !”
“Oh, hey, you do know my name!” Sandro said without making eye contact.
“Surely you see how humiliating this is?” Croy whined.
“Captain’s orders…” Sandro continued to pass out slips of paper while Ouannii collected the folded slips, placing them in a pouch. “…but hey, who knows? You could get a name that you really like!”
Two approaching figures caught Sandro’s eye, “Oh, hey! Lenka! Raithe!” Sandro made his way over to them with two slips of paper to hand to the pair, “Wanna vote for Croy’s new name?”
“New name, huh?” Raithe smiled a little too wide at Croy, who strode towards the group with panic in his eyes.
As Raithe reached for his slip, Croy snatched it out of Sandro’s hand, “Raithe doesn’t get a vote! He’s not even crew!”
“At this point, he’s practically crew.” Lenka corrected.
“Then where’s his uniform?”
“I’m wearing it, baby.” Raithe gestured to a souvenir Chandrila Star Line pin on his shirt. Croy leaned in to scrutinize it.
“You purchased that from the gift shop.”
“Ha! Purchased…you’re funny, Harmy.”
Lenka rolled her eyes, “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that…”
Sandro handed Lenka a new piece of paper to give to Raithe–it was useless to try to pry away the one in Croy’s hands. Raithe happily accepted his slip and started pacing with an exaggerated pensive expression. After a moment, his eyes lit up.
“Harmy, you know what you look like to me?” He excitedly scribbled something down and brought it over to Lenka. She tried her best to stifle a laugh.
“Let me see that–” Croy swiped at the paper, but Raithe raised his arm in a keep-away manner. Croy latched onto Raithe to wrestle his arm down to eye-level. Raithe was surprised to find Croy was stronger than he appeared, he actually had to put in effort to fight against him.
Lenka observed the scene with a strange mix of amusement and concern. As opposed to Sammie, who suddenly appeared next to her, looking on only with concern.
“Uh…is everything okay?” Sammie asked.
Sandro bounced over to join them, “Sammie! We’re taking suggestions for Croy’s name!”
“Oh.” Sammie continued to stare at the tussle, which was surprisingly still going on, “So that’s why–”
“Yup.” Lenka confirmed.
Sandro held out a paper slip for Sammie, but he waved him off “I’m, uh, I’m good…thanks.” Sandro smiled and continued making his rounds among the crew.
Sammie turned back to Lenka, “Hey, should we alert the Captain about this?”
“They’ll be fine.”
Just then, Croy was finally able to get a good enough view of the suggestion in Raithe’s hands. His jaw dropped,
“Don’t you dare submit that!”
With Croy’s outrage giving Raithe a moment of freedom, he dashed over to Ouannii and tossed the name into the pouch with all the other suggestions.
“Too late! Already did.”
Croy charged his way up to Ouannii, but she shot him a look that stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Uba vopa tah nee cho?” She pointed an accusatory finger at Croy. He was unclear on what she was saying, but judging by Sandro’s hand on her shoulder in an attempt to steady her, it probably wasn’t good.
Croy straightened his back and puffed out his chest–as if he were pretending to still have rank–and practically stomped off towards the turbolifts.
Lenka folded her paper slip and began to walk over to Ouannii, who was currently on the receiving end of a proud pat on the back from Raithe.
Sammie caught back up with her, “Wait, so, what name did Raithe write down anyway?”
Lenka stopped to whisper something in Sammie’s ear. His eyes widened as he tried to disguise his laughter as a fit of coughing. “Well,” he pushed through, “there’s always gotta be one, right?”
“Oh, mine wasn’t much better.” Lenka dropped her folded paper into the pouch.
***
There was a knock at the door to Gaya’s “studio”. Gaya reluctantly abandoned her songwriting notebook and rose from her sunken position on the couch to answer it.
At the press of a button, the door slid open and in barged a fuming Croy. His pushing past Gaya into her room made her blink a couple of times, but she eventually let the door close and made her way back inside. At the end of the hallway, she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, watching Croy pace up and down what was intended to be the suite’s living room.
“You want to try that again?” It was a stern request, one that wasn’t really up for debate, but Croy didn’t seem to acknowledge her. The only thing stopping Gaya from throwing him out over this was the fact that if she stared at her notebook any longer, she might start pulling at her lekku.
Eventually, he stopped pacing. Instead, he crashed down onto the couch, head in his hands. Gaya stayed put.
“I deserve more respect.” He finally sighed.
Gaya huffed a laugh.
“They’re treating me like I’m some sort of fool who exists solely for their entertainment. I did a brave thing, you know. It’s not exactly easy to turn your back on the Order. I should be receiving praise…thanks, even–”
“Yes, well done, Lieutenant, you finally recognized that the evil, fascist regime was an evil, fascist regime. Because no one here ever tried to tell you that before.” Gaya made sure that her tone dripped with sarcasm, she didn’t trust Croy not to misconstrue her words.
“You don’t have to keep calling me Lieutenant.” Croy reminded her. He physically recoiled a little, those words apparently still felt foreign to him.
“Actually, I will,” Gaya responded, “because clearly you’ve already forgotten what you did to these people. I may not have been onboard, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. So no, I’m not going to stop calling you Lieutenant, because I want you to remember exactly the kind of person you are.”
Croy stared at Gaya in her fury. He’d always found her intimidating, but this was a completely different kind of intimidating. It’s one thing to be in the presence of someone you’ve spent so long idolizing, but to anger them? Even worse, to make them disappointed in you? That’s one of the highest forms of self-betrayal.
He didn’t say anything in response, but Gaya still felt the need to drive her point home, “These people owe you nothing.”
Croy took a minute to internalize her words. He stared down at his lap, he took a breath in…and then he nodded.
“You’re right.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not at you…at myself. I got so carried away trying to stop this whole naming fiasco I…forgot my place.” He finally looked back up at Gaya, searching her expression for even a hint of approval. She offered nothing–he wasn’t going to get away that easily.
“I’m sorry.” Croy said.
“I’m not the one you have to apologize to.”
Silence. Then–
“...I’m sorry I didn’t ask you how your songwriting was going.”
Now, that took her by surprise.
Gaya pushed herself off the wall and walked over to the chair opposite the couch. She allowed herself to fall into it–resigned, but not too relaxed. “Not well.”
She once again found herself staring out the cabin’s viewport…waiting for the stars to tell her how to fix her idea-barren brain, but they said nothing. “Perhaps it might be time to end this little residency,” she concluded.
“Well, I’d very much like it if you stayed.” Croy muttered, sheepishly.
Gaya’s lips twisted upwards into a smirk, ”Once again, making it all about you.”
Guilt flashed across Croy’s face, and Gaya laughed. She knew that would happen. “You mentioned something about naming?”
Croy let out yet another sigh as he explained, “Captain Keevan has insisted that I take on a new identity for the duration of my sanctuary on The Halcyon.”
“And? What is it?”
“I don’t know. The crew is going to pick one for me.”
“I’m still struggling to see the problem here.”
“They’re counting Raithe as crew.”
Gaya let out an evil chuckle, “Oh, I’ll have to remember to ask him what he chose.”
“I’ve seen it, you don’t want to know.”
“Even better.”
Croy shot her a glare.
“What?” She asked, “You know they’re not going to pick it.”
“You said it yourself, no one on this ship has any reason to be nice to me.”
Gaya shrugged in resigned agreement. They were both silent for a while, Croy began to stare off into space. Eventually, he piped up
“I’ve always liked the name Jonathan.”
Gaya scoffed, “And that is why you’re not in charge of your own name.”
“It’s dignified!”
“You’re joking. It’s boring, it’s the complete opposite of dignified.”
“Well, I’m sure it’s better than whatever else Keevan is going to pull from the pile. And in front of the entire ship, no less.” Croy sighed for the millionth time, “You’ll get to enjoy my humiliation along with everyone else.”
“You have fun with that, I’ll be here.”
Disappointment crept into Croy’s expression, “It’s an all ship assembly, you’re not coming?”
“I have work to do.”
“Well. Lucky you.” Croy finally pried himself off the couch. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
He was almost to the door before he turned around to face Gaya one more time, “You are aware which song of yours is my favorite, correct?”
“Poverty of Love, if the rumors are to be believed.”
Croy smiled softly, “Do you know why?”
Gaya raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Because it’s vulnerable. It’s honest. You’re describing your current state of mind instead of trying to wield an abstract concept. If you’re having trouble writing, then I say write about that.”
Gaya kept her face emotionless, “I’ll take that into consideration.”
And with that, Croy left the studio. Gaya looked over at her songwriting notebook on the edge of the couch. Then she squinted at it. And then she closed her eyes for a minute and sighed.
“Kriff.”
***
“Alright, so here’s how we’re going to do this,” Captain Keevan opted to place herself in a more informal position, standing on the atrium floor among the rest of the crew who’d all piled in. Still, she made sure to project enough so the room would have no difficulty focusing on her.
Then again, she wasn’t exactly worried about losing anyone's attention considering why they were all gathered in the first place. She glanced at Croy out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t standing too far away—his back was turned to the bridge window, like hers, forcing his gaze to jump from face to face. Some people snickered, some people glared, but regardless, Croy couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“I have all of the name suggestions right here,” the Captain continued, “and we’re going to go through them one by one and sort them into two categories: No’s and Maybe’s.”
She punctuated this by indicating to her left and right. To her left was a waste bin, the designated place for “No’s”, and to her right was one of the Sector Set boards, clearly intended to display the “Maybe’s”.
“Right, without further ado…” Captain Keevan pulled her first slip of paper from the pouch.
Upon unfolding it, her fingers immediately went to the bridge of her nose. She cleared her throat, “We have…Lou…Tennant.”
Croy sighed. Captain Keevan reluctantly agreed with this notion.
“All in favor?” She asked. One, maybe two people put their hands up.
“Perfect, then that shall go in the No’s.” She said as she tossed it in the bin, “Let’s move on.”
She pulled the next name, “Glup Shitto.”
“Heh. Shitto.” Captain Keevan heard from a nearby bench. She shot an instinctive glare to Raithe, the source of the comment, who shrugged defensively in response. Lenka, who sat next to him, cracked a small smile and shook her head at the silent exchange.
“All in favor?”
A few people put their hands up, but still not enough.
“No to Glup Shitto, then.”
The Captain pulled out yet another suggestion and began to read it out, “Graesun Der—Saja, I’m sorry, but you can’t suggest your own name.”
Standing near the middle of the atrium, Saja Graesun’s face grew confused. Just behind him, the Captain observed Saja Kyr and Saja Tycer share a proud fist bump. She rolled her eyes and moved on.
She pulled the next suggestion, read it, and immediately crumpled it into a ball, “Absolutely not.”
“What, you’re not even gonna tell us?” Raithe called out in mock outrage.
“Oh, I’m sure you’re already aware of what this one is.”
“I said he shouldn’t have gotten a vote…” Croy muttered. Keevan looked over at him, almost appearing apologetic. She tossed the crumpled suggestion into the bin, and Croy offered her a grateful smile.
She pointed a finger towards him, “Don’t get used to it.”
***
Gaya hummed a melody over and over again, making slight tweaks to it each time until she landed on one she liked. She scribbled the notes down onto a piece of empty sheet music on her lap.
She sounded out the tune once more in confirmation. Then she started to add words to it,
“ But you forget too, just because you…are the…one who…are the one who… ”
She tapped her forehead, scanning the room. Her eyes landed on the doorway–otherwise known as the threshold that she hadn’t dared cross in…well, she’d lost count.
“ …are the one who, closed the door. ”
She thought about Sandro and Ouannii earlier that day, trying to convince her to come join them in the atrium.
“ …It doesn’t mean you…have to…stay true…to rules you…choose…to endure… ”
The Lieutenant’s advice reverberated once more in her brain, she still found herself in shock at how pertinent it was.
“ If something…is not working…then start walking, try again. Perspective looks prospective when you…look through a new lens… ”
Gaya exhaled. This was what she was looking for, something real. She always knew when a song was telling the truth because if it was, she would learn something about herself in the process.
The solution to her problem was always in her own hands, she just needed the reminder.
Gaya put down her notebook and started to stride towards the door, but then she stopped and started backtracking to the couch. She picked up her songwriting notebook once again—not to write something down, but to rip a page out of it. She took her pen and scribbled something on the torn page, folded it, and put it in her pocket.
Without another glance at the room, she walked straight out the door, letting it slide closed behind her.
***
“All in favor?” Captain Keevan noticed a few hands go up.
“You can’t be serious, no one should be voting for this. Longfruit goes in the No’s.” She said as she tossed the name into the bin.
The Captain stared at the empty pouch in front of her, “Well…that was pitiful.”
Croy had taken to sitting on the floor behind her, not only was he humiliated, he was bored out of his mind. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Even most of the crew at this point was either sitting or leaning on one of the many benches.
“If anyone has any final suggestions, now would be the time.” As Captain Keevan said this, the doors to one of the turbolifts opened.
“I have one.” Gaya called out from the back of the room, causing everyone to swivel around in her direction. After being shut away for so long, she actually welcomed the sea of eyes that had been cast upon her. It felt familiar. Normal, even.
These eyes continued to track her as she made her way to where Captain Keevan stood in front of the bridge. Croy rose to his feet and appeared to stand in attention as she approached. Gaya handed the folded paper to the Captain and stepped aside.
Captain Keevan opened it up, “Jonathan?”
Croy’s eyes grew big. He looked over at Gaya, who was keeping her focus on the Captain.
The crew exchanged looks with one another until Sandro spoke up, “That’s…well…it’s uh…”
“It’s boring. It’s probably the most boring name he could have.” Raithe finished for him. He furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously at Gaya. She met his eyes briefly.
“I’ll have you know—“ Croy began to protest, which prompted Gaya to shift her attention back to him. She motioned for him to stop.
Play along, she mouthed.
“—that…I am deserving…of a much better-suited, sophisticated name.”
“No, actually, I think this one could work.” Lenka added, “It’s…unassuming.”
“It’s powerless.” Sammie said a bit too sharply. He received many concerned looks, which made him immediately soften, “…Sorry.”
“I suppose it’s far enough from his real name, and unlike some of the other suggestions , no one will have to worry about holding back laughter while they say it…” Captain Keevan turned a disapproving face in the general direction of the crew. You could tell she was done with the whole ordeal by the way her eye almost twitched. “It’s a name that no one would pick for themselves. But that’s what could make it perfect.”
Sandro pointed at Croy, “If he’s gonna seethe like this every time we call him that, it’ll be worth it.”
Croy shot a side-eyed glare at Sandro. Gaya was glad he had enough sense to keep quiet about the real reason why he was pouting.
“Well then…all in favor of Jonathan? And if the majority of you don’t raise your hands, so help me, Maker…”
The entire room rippled with the motion of resigned, limp hands.
Croy fought back a smile.
“Then it’s settled,” the Captain turned to face Croy and offered her hand, “welcome aboard the Halcyon, Jonathan .”
“Captain.” Croy shook her hand. Once they had parted, Croy looked over to Gaya once more,
Thank you , he mouthed.
Gaya nodded at him and made her way over to Raithe, who now sat alone on the bench. It wasn’t a surprise to her that he’d hang back, she figured he’d be onto her. She took a seat next to him, instinctively slipping her arm through his.
“You gonna tell me what that was all about?” he asked. He couldn’t shift his gaze away from Croy, who appeared to be somewhat successfully making small talk with some of the crew.
“If I didn’t do anything, he was just going to keep coming to me to mope.”
“Couldn’t stick it out for a couple more days, huh?” Raithe quipped, but then realization dawned, “Unless–”
“I’m staying.”
Raithe smiled wide, “I’ll cancel the arrangements then.” He finally looked over at Gaya, her face blank in contrast to his. He recognized her glazed eyes, something was on her mind still.
“I know it’s killing you that you even helped him at all. Maybe…just remember that you don’t have to have a reason to leave your studio. You’re not trapped in there.”
“Not anymore.”
They stayed there for a minute, watching Croy say good night to the crew he was speaking to before heading out of the atrium.
Gaya spoke up, “We’re not actually going to call him Jonathan, are we?”
“Oh, hell no. I’m still convinced this was just Riyola trying to find a way to mess with him. It just backfired on her.”
Gaya giggled and rose to her feet, pulling Raithe up with her, “Come with me, I want to drop in on Sandro and Ouannii’s rehearsal.”
Raithe obliged, “It’s nice to have you back.”