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Tinaya and Silveon are sitting in their living room. The latter has the day
off from school while the former has a day off from work. Arqut was here
earlier, and will be back later, but he had to leave for a while to meet
with the Bridger Section Superintendent. They started doing this a few years
ago, but they don’t reveal what their discussions are about. His family has
learned to not ask questions. Well, they didn’t really need to learn that.
They each have their own secrets.
“This is actually the best time for me. It’s one of the things that works in
my favor. I wouldn’t be—” He’s cut off.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Thistle says. “A visitor approaches.”
“Open the door,” Tinaya says.
Soon after it opens, a woman appears from around the corner. “Sorry to
bother you, Family Leithe.”
“Hey, Tondy,” Silveon says. He hasn’t finished his education yet, but he
apparently already knows some of the people he’ll be working with once he
earns his license.
“Hey, Silveon,” she replies. “The Captain would like to speak with you.”
“Him, and not me?” Tinaya presses.
“I’m afraid he didn’t say anything about it. What do you think? What
would he have intended? I can’t lose this job. My parents will never
speak to me again.”
“It’s okay, Tondalaya,” Tinaya insists. “I’ve known Oceanus for years. If he
doesn’t want me there, I’ll leave, and he won’t hold it against you. He
won’t even make any connection between you and me. Where is he?”
“His office. No teleportation.”
Each Captain has run their ship differently. Halan never stayed in one place
too long, and rarely stepped foot on the bridge. He might not have even been
aware that he had an office. Kaiora conducted most of her work in her ready
room. Tamm grew up watching old scifi media, like Star Trek and Galaxy
Quest, where a lot of the action took place on the bridge, so that’s where
he felt most comfortable. Lataran operated out of a command center that was
particularly close to the entrance to the Bridger Section. She seemingly
stayed in direct contact with them during her tenure, but Tinaya was on
Verdemus for most of the time, so she wasn’t really around for that. Oceanus
likes his office. It’s away from everything, and he considers it to be
highly secure. There is no teleportation in or out, and he’s completely cut
off from system-wide superintelligence, which is why he couldn’t just tell
Thistle to summon Silveon for him.
The three of them make their way down the corridors, and up to Captain
Jennings’ office. “Be with you in a moment,” he says, busy typing on his
computer without even looking up. A few minutes later, he gets to a
stopping point. “Admiral, I didn’t expect you.”
“Sorry, sir. It was my fault,” Tondalya begins to say.
“I insisted on coming,” Tinaya claims. “This is highly irregular.”
“Your son is an adult,” Oceanus says. “I can speak with whomever I must.”
“Based on what happened with Soto Tamm,” Tinaya begins, “I wouldn’t say
that’s true.”
Oceanus nods. “Quite.” He stands, and starts to walk around his desk. “Thank
you, Miss Sugar. Please take a break.”
“Much appreciated, sir.” Tondalaya curtsies and exits.
Oceanus smiles as he watches her leave. “Her teacher retired before you
matriculated, Mister Grieves. She was...old fashioned. I’m sure you didn’t
learn to bow.”
“We learn a shoulder bow,” Silveon answers. He demonstrates it by closing
his eyes gently, tilting his head, and lowering it down ever so slightly;
only enough for his shoulders to make a small dip.”
“I suppose I could be okay with that. I don’t know how to get her to stop
and just nod to me plainly.”
“I see,” is all that Silveon says.
“Tondalaya is who I wanted to speak with you about, actually,” Oceanus goes
on.
“Sir?”
“She’s new...new for me, anyway. As you’re obviously aware, stewards don’t
have shift lengths. You work as long as you want to, and as well as your
contribution points hold after you decide to leave. She’s good at her job.
She’s a bit frazzled and flustered, but she knows her shit. I can’t just let
her go.”
“What is this about, Oceanus?” Tinaya asks, stepping in. “Did Silveon ask
you to fire her, or something?”
“Oh, of course he would never ask me that, would you, Silveon?” Oceanus
casually leans against the edge of his desk. “No, I just wanted to get ahead
of this. By the time you’re seasoned enough to become an executive steward,
my shift will have ended, and your only hope for an executive position of
any kind—let alone her job—will lie with my successor, or perhaps even
their successor.”
“Sir, I wasn’t expecting any sort of special treatment.” Silveon looks over
at his mother. “That my mom is an Admiral, or that she knows you, has no
bearing on my pursuit of stewardship. I’m not even sure that I would want an
executive assignment.”
Oceanus chuckles. “Everyone says that. They wanna sound humble. But everyone
wants an executive assignment.” He reaches over to a book on his desk that’s
sitting on a display stand. He flips it open. They catch glimpses of past
captains before he finds the right page. On it is what they call his main
Star Photo. The captain gets photographed a number of times throughout their
shift, with various important figures. This has included standing with their
Admiral, with the council or the First and Second Chairs, and some other
leaders. Tinaya had one with her family, though she’s unique for that since
she was the only captain with a family of her own. The main photo is
always with the lieutenants, since they’re the primo team. Oceanus’ First
and Second L-Ts aren’t the only people in this photo, however. Tondalaya is
there as well, standing in the corner, almost not moving at all. If not for
her occasional blinks, they would think it was a still photo of her inserted
into the animation, but for some reason, not animated as well. The three men
aren’t moving that much either, but trying to look regal and sophisticated,
with puffed out chests, and rising chins. “The Captain’s Steward is always
in the Star Photo.”
That is a lie, and an easily disproven one too. Soto Tamm is the first
captain to employ an ever-present steward. She was just as mousey and
invisible as Tondalaya appears in this anipicture, but she was always there,
somewhere nearby. He wanted her to be available at all times, but not close
enough to even look like they knew each other. Looking back, what he turned
out to be shouldn’t have been surprising. He was a self-centered dick. His
predecessors didn’t use stewards at all. Halan didn’t even allow one to be
assigned to him, preferring to get his own hands dirty. Olindse and Kaiora
basically always had their stewards work from home, which really meant,
I don’t need you. Enjoy your life. Lataran and Tinaya typically asked
their stewards to assist their respective Lieutenants’ Stewards on whatever
projects needed to be completed on that side of things. So the truth is,
Oceanus is the only one using his for the job’s intended purpose, both
utilizing her skills, and respecting her boundaries, while also respecting
her as a person. Tinaya could clarify all this, but she zips her mouth shut.
“Be that as it may,” Silveon replies, “I’ll be happy wherever they place me,
or with whoever they place me with. There are all kinds of stewards on
Extremus. Some of them are attached to people, while others are tied to a
particular area, or even one room. It’s actually the only role that crosses
the imaginary crew-civilian boundary. It’s just one big department. That
part is what some don’t truly understand. A lot of people look down on the
job, because it always feels like something that anyone can do. And when you
look at only one steward in a vacuum, sure, it might seem like that, but the
truth is that that person did not go to school to learn how to be that
specific type of steward.
The department is fluid, with workers shifting from one assignment to
another, sometimes by the week. You have to know how to be an engineering
steward as well as a Lieutenant’s Steward, or even a Captain’s Steward.
That’s obviously when you’re at the show, and the most coveted type of all,
but you can’t rely on that during your education. Stewards know the entire
ship. If you have a relatively basic question about how the material
reclamation system works, try asking a mess hall steward. Unless it’s overly
complicated, and something only a reclamation maintenance worker would know,
they’ll probably have an answer for you.
“I just wanted to mitigate your expectations,” Oceanus explains. “When I
found out that you were studying stewardship, I thought maybe it had
something to do with me, and I wanted to make sure you understood the
timeline. You’re just too young.”
“If my son wants to work directly for a captain, you could help with
that. Pick a good captain to succeed you.”
Oceanus smiles widely. “That was always the plan. There are too many
captains with criminal records, I’ve always said that.”
“Is that all?” Tinaya asks. “My husband will be back from his meeting soon,
and we were wanting to play a game of racquetball together.”
“All three of you? Playing cut-throat.”
“We don’t call it that.”
“Well, I’ll let you go soon, but I do wanna ask, Silveon, what made you
decide to go into stewardship? It’s about the furthest you could be from
your mom’s path, and your father’s, for that matter. Bit of a rebel?”
“Just my personality, sir. I like to move around.” What he likes is to be a
fly on the wall. The reality is that this is his best way forward if he
wants to protect his mission. He and Waldemar are growing apart, and it
would not be politically prudent for Waldemar to select Silveon as one of
his lieutenants, or any other high-up position. It wouldn’t garner extra
support, and it wouldn’t give him access to anything special. Stewards are
generally invisible. They’re there to help if you need something, but when
you don’t, you don’t pay them any attention. They see everything, and they
talk to each other. That is the benefit of having such a large department.
They can meet up and swap stories without shirking their duties, because one
of the others can jump in to cover them at a moment’s notice.
Managing Stewards are just as gossipy as the rest. They’re not really
bosses, but more like human schedulers. Getting the promotion doesn’t earn
them significantly more contribution points, and doesn’t gain them clout. So
they’re still just stewards themselves, and are willing to move things
around when secrets need to be shared. Even if Silveon doesn’t ever make it
all the way up to an executive assignment, he’ll be able to track Waldemar’s
movements and decisions. Oceanus has nothing to do with it, and he never
did. That’s what they were discussing when Tondalaya showed up. The timeline
is going well. Silveon is getting his licensure right now, and at the right
age to be in a good spot when Waldemar rises to power.
“Well.” Oceanus steps back over to the other side of his desk. “I won’t keep
you two any longer. Enjoy your day off together.”
“Thank you, sir,” Silveon says. He leaves the room.
Tinaya decides to hang back for just one moment. “Oshie?” she asks. She
doesn’t call him this often, but she’s the only one who does, other than his
mother.
“Yes, Tiny?”
“You’re doing a fine job. My son would be honored to be your steward, if the
timing worked out. Tondalaya seems very happy.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
She looks over her shoulder, but changes her mind once more. She steps over
and picks up the Star Book. She comes around the desk and sets it down in
front of him. “Did you know it could do this?” She places her index fingers
on the top of the photo, and her thumbs underneath, farther apart from each
other. After holding for a few seconds, she turns her index fingers
outwards, and her thumbs closer together. The image shifts. It looks about
the same as before, except Tondalaya is now the one in the foreground, while
the men are relegated to the background in her place.
He smiles up at her. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“All anipictures can do it.”
“Ha. Could you erase Tamm from his own Star?”
Tinaya flips over to Soto’s Star Photo. She places her three middle fingers
on Soto’s image, holding for a few seconds again. She then swipes all the
way over to the left, carrying him with her. When she crosses past the
border, he never returns. Soto Tamm is gone from his own picture.
“Interesting,” Oceanus responds, seemingly deep in thought. “Very
interesting.”
“What do you have planned?” She asks him.
“You’ll see. One day.”