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Lady Sandraline Fa Toren looked around with some trepidation as she stepped onto the ship. Discipline was not the kind of spaceship she usually traveled on, and the difference was quite obvious. The ship’s halls were a serviceable gray, rather than a gleaming white, and had noticeable patches in certain places. Most notably, it had far more plants than she was used to - even among ships that used biofuel, she was used to plants being off in the greenhouse. But someone had placed vines and potted plants on most open services, whether for functional or aesthetic purposes she wasn't sure.
All together, the ship looked a bit unusual. But Niko had suggested it, and Lark had spoken enthusiastically of the crew, which meant even more,because her judgement was impeccable. And the reality was that Sandry didn’t have a lot of options. She needed to get to the Intergalactic Political Summit as soon as possible, now that she knew she’d be attending in her uncle’s place. As long as Discipline could get her there, she wasn’t in a position to complain.
She turned her attention from the scuffed floors and returned it to her guide, fixing her polite diplomat’s smile more firmly in place. Her initial impression of Daja Kisubo had been fairly similar to her initial impression of the ship: she lacked the polish of Sandry’s more typical circle, but there was something fundamentally likable about her that made Sandry want to trust her. And again, Lark and Niko’s endorsement had been unequivocal, which counted for a lot.
“I know we haven’t got the amenities of your typical passenger ship,” Daja was saying, as if she’d read Sandry’s mind. Either her face had been more expressive than she’d hoped, or it was just the obvious thing anyone in her position might be thinking. Sandry hoped it was the latter - her success at the IPS depended in no small part on her ability to hide her indignation when powerful people said idiotic things, which wasn’t exactly her strong suit.
“As long as I’ve got a bed, shower and food, I can do without the rest of the high-end amenities,” Sandry assured her. “I just need a ship that can get me to my destination quickly.” Somewhere behind them a piece of machinery made a loud clang. Sandry practiced schooling her features to remain calm, taking some comfort from the fact that Daja didn’t seem to even register the sound. “And in one piece,” she amended wryly.
“Discipline’s an old ship, but she’s as reliable as they come,” Daja said, thumping the wall of the ship affectionately. “I’m the mechanical tech, so I can vouch personally for her condition. There’s not a passenger ship out there that’s more dependable or well-maintained.”
“Where does the name Discipline come from?” Sandry asked. In her experience, private ships tended to be named after the families that ran them.
Daja nodded, like she’d been expecting the question. Sandry supposed she got it frequently. “Decommissioned military ship,” she explained. “The full name is Discipline of the Stars, but that’s too much of a mouthful for everyday use, so we just call her Discipline.”
“I wanted to rename her Lady of the Night, but Daj’ here wouldn’t consider it,” a new voice drawled. A young man with a riot of black curls and skin a few shades lighter than Daja appeared. Like Daja, he wasn’t wearing any particular uniform, but was dressed in casual clothes. To Sandry’s eye, they looked several years out of date and well-worn, the choice of someone who favored function over fashion. They were also covered in dirt stains.
“That’s because I didn’t want our ship to be mistaken for an adult pleasure cruiser,” Daja retorted, rolling her eyes.
“Whereas I thought that would be pretty funny,” the newcomer told Sandry.
“I’m guessing you’re Briar?” Sandry said. She only knew the name of the ship’s botanical technician. Niko had suggested she might enjoy the chance to meet Briar, but hadn’t specified why.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, offering a hand that, though not quite as calloused as Daja’s had been, still suggested he’d seen his fair share of hard work. Sandry’s observant eye also noted dirt under his fingernails.
“Briar is our botanical-tech,” Daja says. “He runs the hydroponics that keep the ship’s atmosphere up to code, so you can thank him that you don’t need an air mask while on board. He also grows most of what you’ll be eating while you’re with us.”
Sandry was impressed. She’d assumed the crew on a small-scale long-haul ship like this would subsist primarily on packaged meals. Growing a wide enough range of plants to cover all the necessary nutritional food groups on a ship this size took real talent and dedication.
“I’d love to see your – would that be called a greenhouse on a ship this size?”
“Technically it’s the Agricultural Bay, but Briar just calls it the garden,” Daja said.
“I’m a simple lad, with no need for fancy terms like AgBay,” Briar said.
“Don’t let his attitude fool you,” Daja told her. “He’s actually quite sought after in certain circles for his hand with hydroponics. The president of Erebus Station tried to get him to redo their entire hydroponic system.”
“Wait, are you Briar Moss?” Sandry asked. She’d heard of the young gardener that President Rosson was trying to recruit. Her uncle was thinking of asking him to do Emelan Station if he did a good job with Erebus.
“Yes…” Briar said cautiously, sounding a bit suspicious.
“Have you heard of him?” Daja asked, delighted.
“Your name is known in certain circles,” Sandry informed him. “I’ve heard President Rosson discussing you with my uncle.”
“Sandry’s uncle is President Vedris,” Daja told Briar. Sandry had assumed they’d all known that before they’d offered her passage, but judging by Briar’s expression that was not the case. Perhaps Niko had only mentioned her position as a diplomatic representative of Emelan Station and not the family background that explained why she’d gotten the emergency appointment.
“And what’s a fancy lady such as yourself doing seeking passage on our humble ship?” Briar asked. “I have to assume Discipline is not quite up to your usual standards.”
“Sandry just wants to get to the IPS soon as possible,” Daja told him. “She doesn’t mind slumming it with us if we can get her there quickly.”
“Our navigator’s the best in the business,” Briar said with confidence. Sandry thought she detected affection for the navigator in his tone.
“That’s Trisana Chandler?” Sandry asked. “Niko mentioned that she’s genmod, but he also said that she’s ‘not what I might think.’ What’s she doing working on a ship like this, rather than in the military?” She’d never actually met one of the genetically modified people who were bred on Scatha-5, but she’d heard plenty about them.
Briar and Daja exchanged a look that Sandry couldn’t quite interpret, but she wondered if they were deciding how much to tell her. “Tris doesn’t really like to talk about her abilities,” Daja said, “but it’s not actually a secret.”
“You know about the three tiers?” Briar asked. Sandry nodded. The Scathans had three tiers of society, with each tier associated with a different genetic modification and different societal role.
“She’s an intergalactic diplomat, Briar,” Daja pointed out. “She’s probably familiar with the basic political structure of the galaxy’s most populated planetary system.”
“I’m just a gardener,” Briar said, “I try not to concern myself with exactly what fancy folk know or do.” Daja rolled her eyes at Sandry, and Sandry found herself grinning back. She liked these people, and it was easy to fall into their comfortable banter.
“Says the man who turned down an invitation from Erebus to redo the entire station’s hydroponics,” she said. “Sounds like you could have plenty to do with fancy folk if you wanted to,”
“Why do you think I turned it down?” Briar retorted. “Discipline is scope enough for me.”
“Technically he hasn’t turned it down,” Daja said to Sandry. “Said he’s just being polite by waiting a while to refuse, but I think he’s considering it.”
“I’d love to try to convince you while I’m here,” Sandry told him, “but at the moment I’m actually hoping to hear more about how Tris ended up here and not in the Scathan military.”
“Tris is first tier,” Daja explained. First tier was the ruling class, and most of their strongest genmods were military commanders. “Her abilities are off the charts – gravitational manipulation, solar wind, eidetic memory, the whole works. She can do complex mathematical calculations in her head, and her knowledge of the laws of physics is so advanced that it practically seems like she can see the future when she’s talking about that stuff.”
“Sounds like she would have been a real asset to the military,” Sandry said. She’d heard enough stories from her uncle about the days before Scatha was brought into the Intergalactic Coalition of Peoples to understand how much impact the Scathan genmods could have.
“Oh, she would have been,” Briar said, and grinned, “but Tris doesn’t like being told what to do. Didn’t want to use her abilities to hurt people, and really didn’t do well with the military command structure. So she walked away.”
“And the Scathans were okay with that?” Sandry said, surprised. From her understanding, it was a pretty rigid cultural expectation.
“Not at all, her parents disowned her,” Daja said. Sandry gave a sympathetic wince. “I think the Scathans revoked her citizenship, or maybe Tris renounced it? I’m not actually clear on the details.”
“She’s with us, now, anyways,” Briar said, with the air of someone who was ready to change the subject. He stood and grabbed a pair of shears. “Want to come meet her? I’ve been meaning to prune the vine up at the command center anyways.”
“I was planning to take her to her cabin,” Daja said. “I thought Sandry might like a chance to rest before dinner.”
Sandry appreciated Daja’s thoughtfulness, but she was interested in meeting Tris after their discussion of her origins. “My trip here wasn’t that difficult,” she told Daja. “I’d be happy to meet Tris, and I can rest later.”
“This way,” Briar told her, using the shears to indicate a different corridor than the one he’d come from. “I don’t know if you’ve been on many old military ships? They all have the same layout.” He glanced at her, and Sandry shook her head.
“Only a few, when I was much younger,” she said. The truth was she’d been on more than a few, during the years that she’d traveled with her parents and Pirisi, but she remembered very little of the setup. Her main memories were of the loneliness she’d felt, and the very few other children she was able to encounter with the nomadic lifestyle her parents had led. As terrible as their deaths had been, coming to live with her uncle on Emelan Station had been a huge improvement in terms of her surroundings.
“I certainly don’t remember enough to find my way around,” she told Briar.
“It’s very simple,” he said. As they walked, he seemed to be checking in on all the plants they passed, pausing occasionally to remove a yellowing leaf or feel the soil. “Command is to the front of the ship, and that’s Tris’s domain.”
“It’s also called the bridge,” Daja put in. She also appeared to be taking stock as they walked, although Sandry wasn’t sure exactly what aspect of the ship’s wellbeing she was cataloguing with her steady gaze. “So if you ever hear us refer to Tris’ bridge, we mean the command deck.”
“If you head that way, you’ll get to the engine room,” Brian motioned down a hallway on their left, “but if you go in there, Daj’ will be very cranky, and you do not want to see that.”
“I’m sure Sandry has better manners than to go into a room marked ‘Danger Do Not Enter,’” Daja retorted.
“She’s scary when she’s angry, though not as scary as Tris,” Briar told her.
“And yet he seems to particularly delight in antagonizing Tris,” Daja said, shaking her head.
“She just makes it so easy,” Briar said, shifting the position of a potted plant they were passing. “Actually, Sandry, what would be really funny, is if you asked her –"
“That way is the crew quarters,” Daja said, pointedly interrupting Briar mid-sentence and gesturing towards the right, “including the kitchen and the med bay. We don’t have a med-tech, but Briar is able to do some makeshift medicine with his background, and we have all the regulation-grade med-bots for minor stuff. Anything more major, and we visit a medical station – but you won’t be with us long enough for any of that to matter.”
“Cargo bay and hanger are both in the back, where you came on,” Briar said. “This ship was designed to run weapons for the military, so the cargo is pretty large and the crew quarters are relatively small. Makes it the ideal long-haul freight vessel in its decommissioned state.”
“Seems like it’s in great shape,” Sandry said. Although she wasn’t an expert, she’d been on a lot of ships, and Discipline seemed to be well maintained for a ship its age.
“That’s all Daja,” Briar said, his tone fond as they turned a corner and arrived at the command deck. Sandry had always found the command deck a fascinating place, and as a child had spent countless hours asking various navigators to explain the numerous panels and consoles, without every feeling she’d mastered much of the relevant info. She could easily imagine that a genmod was a big asset here.
Sitting at the main console was the genmod herself. Sandry caught a glimpse of copper hair in the thin braids generally favored by the Scathan ruling class.
“Tris, come meet Sandry, our passenger for this trip,” Daja said, apparently unconcerned about interrupting.
Tris took a moment to finish the notes she was making before coming over. “Trisana Chandler,” she said, offering Sandry a nod. Sandry noted that her clothes appeared to be a bit more well-maintained as those worn by either Daja or Briar, although Sandry wasn’t sure if this was a reflection on Tris’ personality or position. “I’ve just finished charting our course to get you to the IPS,” Tris said. “Should take us about then days.”
Sandry was impressed. “That’s quite fast,” she said. In fact this was an understatement - it was two days quicker than Niko had estimated, which was already the shortest flight time she’d ever heard for this route.
“I assure you, it’s entirely doable,” Tris told her, somewhat stiffly. “Because of the positions of the moons here on Carelon, we can take a slightly different route out of this solar system to take advantage of the gravitational path of this planet. It’s lucky you arrived when you did, I was able to shave an extra six hours off our trip by leaving at mid-day.”
Briar grinned. “Told you. Coopercurls knows her stuff.”
Tris looked uncomfortable. “It’s not just me,” she said. “Briar’s biofuel is extremely efficient, so I can keep up our speed during some of the gravitational dead zones, and Daja is well able to handle any damage we take from minor collisions, so I don’t have to avoid asteroid belts the way a lot of ships do.”
“Sounds like you make a great team,” Sandry says, and it isn’t even a diplomatic nicety. “How did you all end up together,?”
“Niklaren Goldeye,” Tris said, to Sandry’s surprise.
“Sandry actually knows Niko, he’s the one who put her in touch with us,” Daja told Tris.
“Then you know he’s always everywhere, talking to everyone,” Tris said, drily. “He found each of us at bad moments, moments when we were on our own, without anyone to look after us. He brought us here.”
Sandry didn’t know what to say. She actually hadn’t realized Niko made a habit of picking up people in need and getting them someplace better – she only knew that he’d done it with her, after her parents had died. As a child, she’d sort of assumed it was because of her uncle’s position, although her uncle had more recently made a comment that indicated that Niko hadn’t even known who she was when he found her. She wondered if he’d had some other plan, before he’d learned she had family who could take her in. She wondered if she could have ended up on a ship like this, with people like these. It was a strange thought.
“He brought you to Discipline?” Sandry asked.
“The ship used to be run by Lark and Rosethorn,” Daja put in. “We flew with them for a few years before your uncle convinced them to come work for him full time.”
“Lark mentioned she knew all of you, but she didn’t say how,” Sandry said.
“You know Lark?” Tris seemed interested.
“I met her when she came to work for my uncle, but I feel like I’ve known her forever.”
“Lark has that effect on people,” Tris said. She was a bit less open with her emotions than either Daja or Briar, but Sandry thought she detected real affection for Lark.
“Sandry actually knows Niko as well,” Daja told Tris. “Have you known him long?”
“A few years,” Sandry replied. “My story is actually oddly similar to yours - Niko found me when I was in a tough spot, kind of on my own, and brought me to my uncle. I’d never realized he made a habit of that sort of thing. Maybe if I hadn’t had a place to go, he might have found me one like this - maybe even with you all.” Sandry looked at them all, trying to imagine it. It was actually not that hard to envision. “It seems like it might have been fun.”
“Well,” Daja said, after a moment, “In that case, I guess it's more than past time to officially welcome you to Discipline.”
“We hope that you enjoy your trip with us,” Briar added.
Sandry beamed at all of them. “I really think I will.”