Arren is the one who says it.
"...how about the Minnow?" he asks.
"Now! I like that!" Alex says, pointing at Arren, who grins sheepishly - how can someone with teeth that sharp smile in such a non-threatening way. "Since our cap, our co-cap, I mean, you're a fisher, so, like, it makes sense."
"Lucky got us the ship. Might as well name it after her," Amos said, slapping your shoulder.
"I'm not a minnow. I'm a shark," you say, and gnash your teeth.
"Sure thing, Lucky." Amos says, giving you a genial smile.
You and Wulfe exchange a glance. Wulfe gives you a look that says:
Yeah, he's always like this. Aloud, she shrugs: "Minnow is cute, I guess. BUt we're a gunship."
"That means no one will see it coming, right?" Shed asks, nervously.
"Okay," you say. "Minnow it is. The Minnow."
Captain Isabella Morganthau of the Minnow, rings in your head, like a chiming bell. You smile to yourself. You could like that. You could like that a
lot. You stepped away from the wall, then nodded again.
"Let's get to work."
Despite your words, a lot of your job turned out to be waiting for other people to do their jobs. Amos was the mechanic, Shed was the doctor - well, medtech - and both you and Wulf were the co-captains. Arren was working himself on the gunnery console, figuring out what buttons did what, as directed by Minna, who was going to be doing most of the actual shooting if you got into any real fight. But after you gave the order to get going, you weren't…exactly sure what to do next.
Mr. Holden had said, in his long advice ramble, that one of the things a captain should do is be, at least, familiar with everything that a ship can do.
You can't be as good as your crew, but you should at least know what they're doing - so you can fill in. In a pinch.
So, you asked the CI to bring up all the technical specifications on the
Minnow's ECM and EW systems and started to get a headache almost immediately - while Alex brought her out of dock and into space. Wulf stepped over to your chair as the engines rumbled on and Alex slowly brought it from a gentle burn to a crushing, hideous one G-burn. You hissed and clenched your teeth, but even the short respite in the station hadn't been enough to break your body's training. It was more…uncomfortable than painful, and the idea that you might get completely used to one G felt faintly…unsettling.
Like you were betraying your people, on a biological level.
There was kind of a social disconnect between Belters and Belters who were Fishers. At least, that's what your parents said. You hadn't seen much yourself - but you'd barely been beyond your home, beyond hanging with the crew of the
Dryad, and all of them had seemed chill with weirdos. After all, they were trusted by James Holden and were following the orders of his daughter.
But part of that worry was…you were
different. Deep in the bones and your muscles. Could you really be belters if you bounced back from a lifetime of null-G so well? Or…was it just that the
Minnow had a huge store of expensive drugs that worked real good? Maybe every Belter could respond like this? Or maybe-
"You've read the same paragraph twice," Wulfe said, casually.
"Huh?" You blush, then tab forward. "Just trying to make sure I understand. This…is complicated."
"Yeah," Wulfe said, then crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall next to your station. Her ears perked up and she grinned. "So, what did you think of the folks?"
"Uh, they were nice," you said.
Nice? Nice!? Your brain screamed at you.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Arren at the gunnery console, putting his hand over his mouth, confusing Minna at why he was so amused.
"Nice, huh," Wulfe said, then leaned forward, whispering in your ear. "I noticed where you were looking for the
entire dinner."
Your big dumb eyes felt like they had spent the entire time glued to Wulfe now. How often had you looked at her? Had she noticed that you were a big dumb stupid lesbian Belter dumb-
"Yeah, my Dad's hot, but he's too old for you," Wulfe said, then slapped her back, and stepped away. "Focus on studying, I'm gonna make sure the armory has cool guns."
Your entire face feels blue.
—
You and Arren pick the comfiest room that you can choose, which isn't hard since they're all the same. There's plenty of choices, since the ship is built to carry an entire platoon of marines to their killing and stabbing places.
"So, how was your studying?" Arren asked, curiously, as you tossed your stuff onto the bed, stretching and groaning - the pressure of one G is making your knees ache slightly.
"It's okay," you say. Then, blushing. "So, uh…should we…talk to…Wulfe."
"Who's this we?" Arren's grin is impish. "You're the one with a crush."
"You! You!" You say, turning to face him.
"I think she's hot," he said, with careful, measured cadence. "You? You are
wobbling over her."
You sit on the bed with a thump. "It's one G acceleration, my knees hurty."
Arren grins. "So, I think you should be the one to talk to Wulfe."
"But you're the dommmm!" You lay back, wriggling.
"Why is it when I tie you up, it's all wriggling and biting and brattiness, but when it comes to hard stuff, now it's all oh woe is me, i'm the little subby shark, I can't do anything?" Arren's voice is playful as he walks to the bed, then crawls into it.
You lean up, whispering in his ear. "Cause you like it when I struggle."
Arren chuckles, then leans in.
So.
You prove it.
—
About an hour before the flip and burn at the midpoint of the transit, you found yourself in the cafeteria at the same time as Wulfe. What Arren had said to you remained echoing in your brain as you watched her fiddling with the coffee pot, grumbling and rattling it as she did so. It was early in the morning shift of the ship, even if you were still getting used to the
Minnow's daily cycle.
"Come on…Wulfey need coffee…" Wulfe whined.
Now was a good time to go and strike up conversation. Maybe talk to her. Maybe kiss her? Maybe fall madly in love and get married! …okay, okay, uh, slow up on that last one, Isa. Get to the talking first. You just had to pick the exact most perfect way to approach her.
—
Choose your approach.
[ ] …hey. (Sound too aggressive by accident)
[ ] …
hey… (immediately panic as you realize you're being too flirty)
[ ] Hop on up (hop cutely onto the counter, fall off, look like an idiot)
[ ] So, uh, you like your coffee too? Wild, your Dad liked his coffee a lot too. …I'm good with machines. Well, okay, Arren is good with machines, but I watch him a lot! Or I can get Arren, do you want me to get Arren? Or Amos, they're both tech nerds. Arren and Amos, I'll go get them! (immediately panic as you realize you're panicking)
[ ] Write In (if you come up with something worse than the above, you get a prize. the prize is smooch)
