Tales from the Drift: Old Lessons, Hard Futures

Chapter 8 - Captain Five-Eye

VESSEL: Sovereign of the Stars // LOCATION: THE DRIFT // TIME: UNKNOWN

The pungent scent of the incense had waned, but enough of its haze still lingered in the small cabin to tickle Romain's nostrils and rouse him. Groaning sleepily, the slim cabin boy scratched at his nose. A groggy smile crept across his dark olive features. The gentle swaying of his pillow-laden hammock made it challenging to resist the persistent drowsiness. As did the constant wooing of the engine's rhythmic thrumming alongside the quiet murmurings of a forgotten holo-recording. He ignored the distant tolling of the signal bell that called him to his lessons, and others to their watch posts.

Piloting, navigation, and astrogation were to be the lessons of the day, but not with helmsman Granger or navigator Hurkel. No, today Romain was going to be mentored by Captain Baldassaré Five-Eye himself. This alone should have galvanized Romain into action, but no. Not so much.

It did not matter that this sort of special attention from the captain always marked an end to a lesson set and the beginning of regular duties. It did not even matter that not only did today mark the end of his tutelage in this subject matter, but very likely that of his tenure as cabin boy aboard the Sovereign of the Stars.

Although the rest of crew had thus far not seen fit to educate him in regard to any sort of ceremony, he was certain that there was one. There had to be. The captain, not to mention the whole crew, had traditions for everything - especially rites of passage, and especially anything that even remotely resembled a promotion.

Romain pushed his slender fingers back through the shaggy, silky locks of his jet hair. It was something worth pondering. Certainly.

No longer a cabin boy serving on a pirate's ship, but an actual proper pirate; a member of the crew with the right to vote and a guaranteed full share! The memory of last night's excitement made Romain grin. However, it was last night's excitement, and last night's excitement could not compete with this morning's languish.

His grin expanded into a lethargic yawn. For a brief moment he considered leaping out of the hammock, bolting through the door, and racing above so that he might beat the signal bell's final tolling, but he decided that leaping and bolting and racing were far too exhausting. These were feats for another time and some other Romain. Thus, with as little effort as possible, and as much like grog spilling from an overfull tankard, Romain birled out of the hammock followed by several pillows. His bare feet met the cool and polished planks of the cabin's floor with a soft thud. The rest of him followed without delay, and Romain made a puddle of himself on the floor.

He sighed, still heavy with sleep, and basked in the deck's refreshing coolness. There was going to be hell to pay, but he didn't much care.

Romain spent a great deal of his limited free time turning his cabin into a den of cozy comfort. Fabrics and silks of varying colors, shapes, and sizes draped the walls and hung from the low ceiling. Trinkets, baubles, gizmos, knickknacks, and a whole variety of discarded flotsam mired the floor and shelves. Without blocking the door or impeding his ability to flop into the plush hammock, Romain had filled his cabin with all of manner unwanted loot, and then piled atop it whatever additional booty he was allotted and allowed.

From his puddle on the floor, he accumulated enough desire and energy to sit up. He had every intention of fetching his jacket from the peg by the door and hauling himself on deck. He needed to do just that, and truly, he wanted to. Working the wheel, checking the charts, plotting the course, reading the stars: Romain loved these tasks. Yet, that love was not enough to provoke him to action. So, he considered the punishment he would receive for his tardiness, and the additional punishment for testing Captain Five-Eye's patience. The avoidance of punishment was usually an excellent motivator when all else had failed. But. But. The no longer forgotten holo-recorder had its own agenda.