Nocturna League (Episode 2: The Mist Hour) (9 page)

“
Yes?”

They connect gazes- her expression is
dead serious. “That girl you kidnapped on my ship; her name’s
Grancis, and she’s my best friend. If you touch her again I’ll do
more than shoot you in the stomach.”

Itrim is a little short on breath for
the rest of the trip to the docks. They use Itrim’s fishing
sailboat, and the strange wind blows them all the way to the
Nocturna, kilometers off shore. Itrim said that he never had seen
such helpful winds.

Chapter 9: Jim is Almost Let
Out of The Brig “or” Colette and Grancis Have a Fine Reunion “or”
The Captain and Jobber Collete Enjoy a Grandiose Exchange of
Philosophy and Tactics

Colette and Itrim are hoisted up by
some of the crew members onto the deck of The Dark Lady Nocturna,
and at once everyone spots The Captain’s hat upon her
head.

“
Ey, Kipper,” Dunklestein
addresses.

Colette turns Itrim over into Dunk’s
arms. “This man’s wounded. He wants to join the crew,” she says
with a no-nonsense expression.

“
Why you got Cap’s cap on?
You stole it?”

Colette winces and recalls that the
others don’t know. “The Captain’s dead, Dunklestein. He put me in
charge. Now you will respect my authority as the new captain, or
this port is where we’ll leave you.”

Dunklestein looks confused. “Wh-what?
The Captain’s dead? But I ju-”

“
Colette!” a purely
feminine, entirely gentle voice calls from the cracked kitchen
door.

“
Gran!” Colette rushes over
and embraces her good friend, the two meeting each other half way.
A grumbling Dunklestein takes the wounded man to the infirmary as
Colette speaks up with her friend in her arms. “I thought you… I
thought I’d lose you! When you got kidnapped I just…” Colette wipes
her eyes with her coat-sleeve.

“
I’m okay- The Captain came
into where I was held and he rescued me. Then he sent me back on
the ship with Boris. He turned around because he said he had to
help you take care of something,” Grancis says with a
smile.

Colette squints an eye in suspicion.
“Wait, so he said he wanted to help me with something?” She asks as
a pair of long, red crustacean whiskers poke out from the kitchen
door.

“
Mhmm! Then he went on up a
trail into the wo-”

“
I SEE THAT THE COLETTE
MEAT IS OF THE RETURNING!” Boris proclaims as he bursts out from
the door. In a second’s time, Boris breaks the five meter distance
and embraces Colette richly, crushingly, and
compassionately.

“
I- guh!
Uh
. Nice to see you too… Boris,” Colette
says, feeling her spine threatened by the massive strength of
twenty hardened men.

“
S-senior chef Boris!
Please don’t break her! I need her unbroken!” Grancis weakly
protests, pushing against Boris’ executional embrace.

“
I AM OF THE SORRY. I AM
SIMPLY OF THE EMOTIONAL SEEING YOU BACK NOT OF THE DEAD.” Boris
releases Colette, and she takes in a deep breath to make up for
oxygen lost.

“
Thanks, Boris. Now get
back to work. I’m hungry… and sleepy- and, well, this day’s been
pretty rough for me in general.”

Boris nods his head to the side a bit,
receiving an order from Colette, but he loves to make people happy.
He promptly salutes with a massive claw. “IF YOU ARE OF THE ASKING,
I AM OF THE DOING!” With that he turns around and slams into the
kitchen like a living truck.

Colette shakes her head, and Grancis
puts her hands together acquiescently. “So, where is The Captain?
Wasn’t he going to come back with you on the ship?”

The wind rises, and Grancis’ dear
friend sighs. “Well, Gran. I actually sh-”

“
Shipped off without
me?”

Colette swings around. The Captain,
bandages, glasses officer attire and all- just missing a
hat.

“
C-captain!?”

The mummified commander nods. “Tis’
I.”

As Grancis salutes with a flare of
admiration in her eyes, Colette just stares on in
disbelief.

“
C-captain,” she says,
taking deep breaths.

The Captain turns to her after patting
Grancis away by the shoulder. “Yes?”

“
Can I… talk to you? Like,
just us?”

“
Why, of course,” The
Captain says as they step a bit to the side. Grancis returns to the
kitchen after a quick wave, and Dunklestein smirks as he enters the
infirmary with Itrim. The two enter The Captain’s quarters, a place
unseen by Colette until now, and The Captain sits an absolutely
bewildered Colette down. He pours a couple of drinks, Dugal’s
scotch actually and he takes his own place, kicking one leg over
the other nonchalantly. “Now then,” he sneaks a quick sip, “What is
it I can help you with?”

Colette takes a full shot of her
glass, the scotch is oaky- with an almost saltwater-like
aftertaste. She stands up in the dark room, takes the hat from her
head and places it back on his. His guise complete, The Captain is
about to say “thank you”, but is embraced quickly by Colette. The
Captain can feel the salty sensation of tears absorbing into his
bandages. “Did it hurt, Captain?”

The Captain, taken a back but
unmoving, answers plainly. “It did.”

She squeezes him tighter. “I’m… I
don’t know what to say… How are you here? I killed you.”

The Captain pushes her away and looks
into her eyes. “I’ll tell you that one day, but I have more
important things to s-”

“
I need to know, Captain.
How the hell did you live through that? I saw you blow away- gone-
out-
off to wherever
. But I heard you speaking through my head, felt you moving
through me… Is that because I inhaled part of you? The
sand?”

The Captain is quiet a moment, but
turns his head down, as if to suggest sternness. “My banana bread,
there are some things you cannot yet bear to know.”

“
I can handle it, Salt.
Tell me,” she says, taking her seat and placing her hands into her
lap.

The room’s only porthole
gives the place a scant glow of natural light.
They hear the sea-winds blow, the birds call, and The Captain
takes another sip. “I will answer with a question.” Colette nods,
and the Captain finishes the glass of Dugal’s. “Do you think a real
sailor has his entire life invested on the land when he goes to
shore?… Well, that would be misleading. Better yet: did you notice
how peculiar the winds were when I died?” Colette’s features, as
she looks down at the hardwood floor, widen in some sort of
realization. “Did you too notice how you heard me in your head, and
how your body was stronger, and how everyone was acting against the
warlock?” Colette slowly nods. “It would be prudent to say that the
sailors of The Nocturna must act as a team to get things done. One
day I’ll let you go below deck, and show you how it all works, but
for now, you need to be content with the answer that you- and
everyone there- breathed me in, because the wind was just
very, very
peculiar, for
some
entirely unknown
reason
. Do you understand?”

Colette sighs and nods. “Okay,
Captain… So, why didn’t you just do it all yourself?”

The Captain scratches his chin. “Are
you learned in theology?”

She squints an eye. “No.”

“
There are some religions,
monotheistic ones, which claim there is a God, just one, a creator,
if you will. This God would prefer have its creations learn things
by experience, by their own choices and mistakes, than for the
deity to fix everything for the creature. In this manner, sentient
creatures- humans, I suppose- will become better, and thus bring
glory to this creator. You see, the creator would prefer the human
do it for herself, as that would mean the creator’s abilities as a
creator are validated- making a being that can have the will to do
right or wrong, and continuously learn from their
mistakes.”

Colette looks perplexed. “You’d rather
have me make those mistakes, rather than you fix stuff for
me?”

“
Yes, though I did see your
need- but even if I didn’t, you still inhaled me so there wasn’t
much you could have done about that. Regardless, it developed you
through experience; that’s why I held information from
you.”

She pushes her fingers against her
skull. “Alright… I guess that does make sense…” She sighs, and
looks out to the port hole, the sun rays lazily dancing through.
“Do you… believe in a creator?”

The Captain pours himself another
shot. “I haven’t the slightest clue.”

“
I’d like to think there
is,” she says.

“
That’s lovely, but I
didn’t ask for your opinion, Miss Ketiere. It was an analogy, not a
sermon.”

“
Sir.” The two are quiet
for a moment, Colette looking around the cabin subtly, and The
Captain taking another sip. Colette speaks up again. “So, why did
the guy at the bar think there was only one gauntlet?”

“
He was either misinformed,
drunk, or lying.”

Colette nods. “Fair
enough.”

The Captain gulps down his second
glass of Dugal’s and sets it aside. “Now then. I’m going to presume
you’ve had enough time to ruminate, so I’d like to ask you a more
important question.”

“
Sure.” She leans
in.

“
Did you play the clear
game that everyone saw, or did you also play below the
table?”

Colette winces- remembering The
Captain’s words at the poker game. “I… I played
honestly.”

The Captain scoffs with
poise. “And as such you were made a pawn for more deceptive,
more skilled
players. I
don’t know if God, be there one or many, makes rules, but I
certainly don’t see them being enforced- so how can we know where
the line is in what others call cheating? What
is
right, is to play in the way you
know works best- you respond to other peoples' playing styles, Miss
Ketiere. Play on their level and you can always be a match for
them. When you started listening and believing- be it because of
your rebellious fancy, wanting to believe the Kalamests some
righteous underdogs, or simply your desire to take pity on others-
you were hooked, probably by compassion, and belittled into a
playing piece, rather than a player. An upstanding captain must
know when she is being taken advantage of and when to spot a lie,
Miss Ketiere.”

Colette nods. “Sir… Do you think the
people on the island will be okay?”

The Captain shrugs. “We removed a
piece of conflict in a civil war. I’d say we improved the living
situation. I’d say we will be remembered fondly by most- though
their happiness is not what we were there for.”

She nods again, staring at the floor.
“Is there a reason for all this? Is there a purpose to being a
captain?”

“
I’ll remind you. Being a
captain is being a commander of humans- a being of powerful will,
commanding those of lesser wills. There are good captains and bad
captains, and the decision is up to you as to which one you may
become. As a captain, your reason for living is reason
enough.”

She sighs. “So, would you consider
yourself a good captain?”

“
I would consider
myself
the best
captain, Miss Ketiere. I do appreciate your humility after
being made a pawn of, but you really should walk this
off.”

“
But… I mean,
sure
, but I was just a
goddamn idiot.” She rubs her shoulder and looks aside in some form
of embarrassment.

The Captain shrugs lightly.
“Yes, and I’m a goddamn idiot sometimes too. An upstanding captain
understands that she is better than the situation she is in, and
this should be reflected by her demeanor and actions. You need to
believe that you are the
best
captain at all times, or else your men could
become conscious of your doubt.”

Colette, arms now crossed, nods her
head about in thought. “Alright, Captain. Thanks for talking with
me,” She says, extending her hand as if to shake his.

“
Do not forget your
position, Jobber Colette. We are not equals- and though you saved
me the trouble of retrieving my hat, you still overstepped your
boundaries in wearing my cap and attempting to hand an order to
Dunklestein the Daring. For this, you should be
punished.”

There is a slight silence, and Colette
scoffs. “Wait, what? It was just your damn ha-”

“
Swab the deck, Miss
Ketiere. If I don’t see my reflection in the deck within an hour,
you will not receive dinner.”

She draws back, her expression
indignant with rage. “Of all the shit-” Colette stops instantly
once The Captain cracks his knuckles. She takes a deep breath, her
eyes closed in stress, and she begrudgingly salutes.

“
Good girl, now off with
you,” he says as he takes a stand, leads her out the door, and
watches her take up a mop and violently start swabbing the
already-pristine Nocturna decks. The Captain nods and decides it’s
now the right time to let Jim out of the brig. He slips around to
the back of the first deck floor and enters a small room with three
cell doors inside. He has a quick chat with Jim, who is currently
possessed; it’s a fairly rude exchange on the aberration’s part, so
it will be omitted, because The Captain scarcely allows course
language on deck- simply detestable.