Sea of Troubles
Proving Line
"There's no one there to guide you
No one to hold you hand
but with faith and understanding
You will journey from boy to man."
--Phil Collins; Son of Man
It was said to him once that the life of a mariner -- any kind of mariner -- was a hard life.
A hard one, but ultimately, a good and fulfilling one.
Renne was finding this life something between hard and exciting.
For days since the Tanar'ri Alus had set sail, Renne had been diligent -- perhaps too diligent -- in learning what even the ordinary seamen had to teach him. He knew his own skills well enough, knew his own nature but this ship was a new ground.
At least in this, he was not stupid enough to think himself wise in it.
The ship herself was a beautiful thing -- the hard, clean lines against the graceful curves and the sharp sound of sail in the wind. he loved the nights as well; listening to the low, creaking groan of the hull.
It went so well with the whisper of wind, snap of sail and the roll of the sea beneath.
On this night, Renne found himself in contemplation.
He'd been down in the galley again with the door locked. The past few weeks had been both wondrous and disastrous -- really, he didn't wish to think about this. Still, the necessity of Analysis proved itself yet again.
With that....princess, Susan.
With the hothead, Audra.
And with his own perceptions.
He knew why he locked the galley door. He accepted that fact -- if a life-form was so xenophobic as to shy off at a thing without asking questions, then it didn't deserve respect in return.
Right?
Audra's voice filtered through his head again and Renne almost cursed.
Renne thought of the antagonistic woman who drank too much for her own good. He shuddered, recalling the verbal fencing matches between them and the one that led him to foolishly go out onto the 'sprit, thinking it a quiet place to think.
His swimming skill wasn't close to par.
Words whispered inside again as he remembered Audra's hand snatching him, plucking him from the sea he couldn't even tread water on.
And why had Captain Watercress so readily taken on a greenhorn such as he?
He was useless as a lookout, obviously. He didn't know the first thing about sailing except a few punishments, superstitious rituals and vocabulary.
It all confused the daylights out of him and if Renne dared to look further down, he knew he'd hear a sinister voice echoing from a shadowy depth.
"You've too much to prove to these Humans..."
He did have much to prove.
-------------------
Quietly, after a brief supper of ship-biscuit and lime-juice, Renne slipped aback, wanting to hear at least part of the plans as the Tanar'ri Alus neared her quarry.
What he heard sounded all right until Audra's idea came forth. It scared him. Infuriated him. Puzzled him.
Did that spitfire have a death-wish?
Still, she did outrank him -- bloody everyone did on this ship. But that didn't matter.
He was there to learn.
They had to prove themselves to him and he to them.
Renne slipped away without a sound, crawled above-decks and scratched his head. He smelled the spice-ship -- they were gaining on her quite rapidly.
He also knew he couldn't tread water that well, let alone swim that distance.
In a span of twenty minutes, Renne crawled down to the galley, found a light, shallow but suitable dish and back up-top again. The dish across his back was a coated metal flat-pan used primarily for the ship-biscuits.
He was thankful the metal was a matte rather than a shine.
In another half-an-hour, the imp was in the water atop the dish like a boogie-board and quietly kicking toward the floating quarry ahead.
Proving worth was hard enough already with him.
He only prayed it wasn't impossible.
Proving Line
"There's no one there to guide you
No one to hold you hand
but with faith and understanding
You will journey from boy to man."
--Phil Collins; Son of Man
It was said to him once that the life of a mariner -- any kind of mariner -- was a hard life.
A hard one, but ultimately, a good and fulfilling one.
Renne was finding this life something between hard and exciting.
For days since the Tanar'ri Alus had set sail, Renne had been diligent -- perhaps too diligent -- in learning what even the ordinary seamen had to teach him. He knew his own skills well enough, knew his own nature but this ship was a new ground.
At least in this, he was not stupid enough to think himself wise in it.
The ship herself was a beautiful thing -- the hard, clean lines against the graceful curves and the sharp sound of sail in the wind. he loved the nights as well; listening to the low, creaking groan of the hull.
It went so well with the whisper of wind, snap of sail and the roll of the sea beneath.
On this night, Renne found himself in contemplation.
He'd been down in the galley again with the door locked. The past few weeks had been both wondrous and disastrous -- really, he didn't wish to think about this. Still, the necessity of Analysis proved itself yet again.
With that....princess, Susan.
With the hothead, Audra.
And with his own perceptions.
He knew why he locked the galley door. He accepted that fact -- if a life-form was so xenophobic as to shy off at a thing without asking questions, then it didn't deserve respect in return.
Right?
Audra's voice filtered through his head again and Renne almost cursed.
Renne thought of the antagonistic woman who drank too much for her own good. He shuddered, recalling the verbal fencing matches between them and the one that led him to foolishly go out onto the 'sprit, thinking it a quiet place to think.
His swimming skill wasn't close to par.
Words whispered inside again as he remembered Audra's hand snatching him, plucking him from the sea he couldn't even tread water on.
And why had Captain Watercress so readily taken on a greenhorn such as he?
He was useless as a lookout, obviously. He didn't know the first thing about sailing except a few punishments, superstitious rituals and vocabulary.
It all confused the daylights out of him and if Renne dared to look further down, he knew he'd hear a sinister voice echoing from a shadowy depth.
"You've too much to prove to these Humans..."
He did have much to prove.
-------------------
Quietly, after a brief supper of ship-biscuit and lime-juice, Renne slipped aback, wanting to hear at least part of the plans as the Tanar'ri Alus neared her quarry.
What he heard sounded all right until Audra's idea came forth. It scared him. Infuriated him. Puzzled him.
Did that spitfire have a death-wish?
Still, she did outrank him -- bloody everyone did on this ship. But that didn't matter.
He was there to learn.
They had to prove themselves to him and he to them.
Renne slipped away without a sound, crawled above-decks and scratched his head. He smelled the spice-ship -- they were gaining on her quite rapidly.
He also knew he couldn't tread water that well, let alone swim that distance.
In a span of twenty minutes, Renne crawled down to the galley, found a light, shallow but suitable dish and back up-top again. The dish across his back was a coated metal flat-pan used primarily for the ship-biscuits.
He was thankful the metal was a matte rather than a shine.
In another half-an-hour, the imp was in the water atop the dish like a boogie-board and quietly kicking toward the floating quarry ahead.
Proving worth was hard enough already with him.
He only prayed it wasn't impossible.