Four days later, Grimoire, The Witches Hat, Nick

  Grimoire was more than a third of the way towards its destination. Nick was enjoying the gravity ever since they got underway with HFS Grimoire under thrust. He had been assigned work in engineering as his primary shift job, but it was his second shift job that was earning him notoriety.

  “I remember you swung on them first.” Canine chuckled. He had run for drills over the past couple of days. The combat side of preparedness was not something stressed very heavily, but some ships did it for fun more often than not. Grimoire was not one of those ships, and it was rubbing some people the wrong way how much Canine in his team was running people through drills. Fleet thought that since over three-fourths of the original crew left and were replaced by new individual’s they needed a special team to help smooth out the wrinkles and prepare the crew for anything.

  “I didn't swing on him!” Creeky said defensively. “I just think it was a bit excessive,” Creeky, Canine, and one of Sara’s friends, Selena, were waiting at The Witches Hat, one of the bars on board that the flight defenders had chosen for Pyre's wake. Sara was supposed to join them soon, but Canine didn't hold out hope. He’d only been able to hang out with her three times due to their off shifts being different.

  “Oh, I don't know, it was kinda fun,” Selena said.

  “You were on the bridge! Nothing happened on the bridge except the fake ship systems drill or whatever you guys do up there. Down here amid ship, we got bulldozed by Canine and two Marines. Did they have to get so hands-on? They could have just tagged me with the gun.” Creeky said.

  “I couldn't see, he says you swung, and even if you didn't, you were right up on him. Next time, you're going to set up an ambush for attackers. Pick your spots better. Hiding right next to the door makes some sense if you don't give it too much thought. Almost always better to set up a little distance if you're armed with a firearm. If you had shot him when he went through the door, you still would have been stuck, unable to fall back without getting shot. It would have been easy for aggressors to take you out.” Nick said.

  “What was the guy's name? I wouldn’t mind getting picked up and tossed around if he's single.” Selena purred. Nick chuckled softly, comfortably getting used to how direct Selena could be.

  “Ask Creeky, I don't remember.” Canine said, throwing his squadron mate under the bus. Not knowing the Marines was not technically anything more than a playful lie. Selena knew who it was or could find out as his coordinator. He had also learned that she was professional enough not to mix work with pleasure. At least not like that.

  “Can't remember what?” Sara asked, overhearing the last part of the conversation as she sat down at the table.

  “The name of the Marine who picked me up and manhandled me into zip ties today. How was your shift?” Creeky asked Sara, dodging Selena’s question.

  “Bridge was normal, but the drill happened during my second shift when I was on maintenance, so we simulated damage control, patching holes and fluid pipes. I had to get changed afterwards, so I was late.” Sara tugged on the large white tea shirt with extra-wide sleeves paired with long dark pants. Canine subconsciously pulled on his pants. He didn't have any civilian clothes, at least not any that he still had with him. He was wearing a one-piece casual uniform made of black with red accents. He needed to go shopping for a few things for his room, too, but Grimoire's shops and printer catalogs were limited. Not much of what he liked, or did he even know what he liked to wear anymore?

  He didn't realize he was spacing out until the twisted memory split the present with the past. The Roost's massive hangar was big enough for Grimoire to have its own little corner to itself, torn like paper rendered open in so many places that stars were more visible than the hull. The cargo container that had held most of his belongings had been sucked into space, along with thousands of people of all ages and species, floating like a macabre backdrop of bodies. Dread gripped Nick, knowing the worst was about to happen. He’d been there before! He wasn't right now. He wasn't there now!

  Nick blinked, his breathing ragged, but drowned out by the jukebox. Trying to ground himself more with the laughter of his friends and music.

  Grimoire, The Witches Hat, Sara

  Sara saw Nick's far-off look and was confused by his sudden change in demeanor. His nails were digging into his hand too tightly, and when he shook his head and looked around, she thought she noticed his arms and legs twitching, his face intense but unreadable. Nick rubbed his eyes to compose his expression to something less noticeable.

  “I need to get something from my room that I forgot.” Canine said. Sara tried not to show her frustration after just arriving. Canine's eyes were locked on the portrait of Pyre being set up for his wake.

  “I’ll go with you!” Selena said.

  “No.” Creaky, Canine, and Sara all said at once. Selena pouted, sticking out her bottom lip as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “I’ll be right back, just a few things, including a bottle of Jeremiah Weed.” Canine said, catching Creeky's attention. He grinned at a shared understanding.

  Sara watched him leave, wondering how he was really feeling. He wasn't an open book to her like when they were children. They had both changed a lot, but Nick still seemed to be able to read her and had her dialed in while he remained closed off and different. The one time he was himself so far was when they were playing games in her room like they used to. Although he was rusty at most games and Sara was able to beat him too consistently for competitive games to be fun. Sara flagged the bartender to place an order.

  The music changed to something quieter, and Sara could hear herself think. She reminded herself to queue some music later to fit the occasion better. She liked The Witches Hat out of the few bars on the ship the most for a few reasons. One was the jukebox that would erase any song uploaded after playing, making sharing music without trading possible. She didn’t have a large collection of music to trade, but she didn’t have to bargain with others to listen to new music when there was a risk-free option at the bar. The Witches Hat was also the only bar that had karaoke, capitalizing on its reputation as the music center of Grimoire.

  “If you want to toast with us, you're better off eating something,” Creaky said.

  “I'm not a lightweight, I can do a few shots on top of a beer,” Sara replied.

  “Knowing it's Pyre's wake, it will be more than a few shots, and Jeremiah Weed is 100 proof,” Creaky said.

  “Yes, but Dribbles and I couldn't find any onboard. We will have to break tradition if we do toasts.” Flight leader Cable said, joining the group. He stood rather than taking a chair, his eyes roving around the bar as he spoke. Sara recognized him as the flight defender who was with Sheriff Tomson when they rescued her from the fake evaluation. She didn’t see his rank insignia at the time, but recognized the uniform and assumed his rank. It turned out he was in charge of all the flight defense personnel by proxy, as Creaky and Dribbles were the only flight defenders on board. She wasn't clear where Nick fit in, but Cable outranked him, so by default it made sense that Cable had command over Nick as well.

  “Nick said he was getting a bottle, but why does it matter if we use vodka or something?” Sara said. Creaky and Cable looked at her, confused, not recognizing the name Nick.

  “Old Earth Tradition for American fighter pilots. Enough of one that not only did it eventually get revived in HDF, but even before there was an HDF, veterans of old Earth figured out how to brew a comparable drink to Jeremiah Weed. It's a toasting drink that tastes like gasoline. Did you mean Canine? Was Nick his name growing up? I know you and him were close when he was at the academy.” Creaky said.

  “Yes, that's who I meant,” Sara said, not showing her contempt for the name Canine. She had an issue with Nick still, where he insisted she stop calling him Nick. Thankfully, he only brought it up once, and he hadn't pushed the issue like he used to, maybe because he was still partially in the dog house for ghosting her for so long.

  Cable had stopped roaming his eyes around the room and seemed fixated on something near the entrance to the bar. Sara noticed Selena was looking at the entrance too. The door was stuck open with Nick standing in the entryway. He seemed to be talking to someone out of view. Jacket Gree-Klem was standing next to whoever it was. Sara was surprised by the predatory grin Nick flashed before stepping inside. A wave of anger rolled over Sara when she saw the Jacket Kulu-Gara-Kuru following Nick to the table with Klem fast behind.

  “Someone has something to say, apparently!” Nick grinned with that same predatory smile that looked uncharacteristically cold for him. At least to Sara, but reminding herself that he had grown up a lot and so had she, and people change, didn't help ease how confused it made her feel.

  Kulu-Gara-Kuru stepped forward and half bowed. Sara realized he wasn't wearing his nanofiber jacket.

  “Apologies,” Kulu-Gara-Kuru said so sincerely. Nick looked offendedly at Klem, who kicked Kulu-Gara-Kuru’s leg joints, dropping him to a crouch in front of the table.

  “Ahck, uh, my sincerest apologies for my misconduct against you and the crew of your ship. I beg forgiveness and humbly accept condemnation if you refuse.” Kulu-Gara-Kuru exclaimed.

  “That's more like it,” Nick said.

  “Ms. Michalson, I will be meeting with you in the next couple of days to get your statement in regards to this Jacket’s actions. He is under review and suspended from service until its resolution. I can assure he will not be able to cause any more problems for our stay on Grimoire.” Jacket Klem said in a formal tone. He tapped the other chirp on the shoulder and indicated for him to leave. The entire bar was eerily silent, Sara realized. Everyone was watching the scene unfold, and even after he left the bar, a few moments passed before the soft ruckus of conversation began again.

  “I say the first toast is to checks and balances. Behold!” Nick said, thumping a bottle on the table. It had a replicated Jeremiah Weed label with small changes like brewed in HFS Granite. Like HFS Sardonyx, HFS Granite was a large colony ship built up in the largest class of hulls gifted by the Architect aliens, or federalies, some called them.

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  Sara's shock at the sudden apology was startled out of her when everybody but Klem and Selena cheered, slapping the table rhythmically or stomping their feet. It didn't take long before the entire bar had participated in two toasts to the deceased flight defender Pyre

  “To Pyre and his stubbornly good hair, may it be as flame-retardant even in death!” Dribbles yelled for the third toast. He arrived just in time to stoke the entire bar into joining the toasts.

  “Skál!” Nick yelled before downing the shot with everyone else. It had only been 10 minutes since the first toast, intermingled with stories about Pyre and laughter.

  “‘Staaap saying skull every time,” Dribble said, pointing a crooked finger at Nick.

  “No. Fuck you.” Nick grinned.

  “Why the hell do you even say that?” Creaky bellowed over the louder music that was playing now. Someone had beaten Sara to the jukebox and loaded a bunch of folk music and sea shanties.

  “Skál is an old Norse word some friends I made always said when toasting. Or just drinking in general, it's like saying cheers.” Nick said.

  “What kind of friends?” Sara coughed. She was not digging the varnish aftertaste.

  “That is a story for another time,” Nick said, swishing the bottle around. It was nearly empty. Patrons were already going back to their tables and dispersing. “Pyre wanted this whole damn bottle drunk at his funeral. His wake tonight will have to do.”

  “I will have to decline joining the last toast, although maybe you have a recommendation for food?” Jacket Klem said. Nick looked to Selena and Sara.

  “You might like the cranberry waffles. They're not the greatest, but they probably suit your palate.” Selena offered. Klem bowed his head and ventured to the bar. Dribbles measured out five shots, not enough for a sixth.

  “Someone else is going to have to skip,” Cable said. All eyes looked to Sara and Selena, the flight defenders, not wanting to volunteer.

  “I think I'm good. I don't know how you drink that stuff.” Selena offered. Dribbles tipped his glass in thanks to her as Sara and everyone else grabbed a shot.

  “To a good wingman,” Creeky said.

  “To a good friend.” Canine said.

  “To the fallen and those they shielded,” Cable said.

  “To the legends he wrote in the stars,” Dribbles said, completing what sounded like a toast that the flight defenders knew by heart.

  “To Pyre!” They all said in unison, Sara, a moment out of sync.

  “May the accident-prone maniac get his funeral by fire wherever his body is!” Dribbles yelled as everyone toasted and drank their shots. Everyone except Nick, Sara noticed. It was almost to his lips, but he was frozen with a far-off look in his eyes. He lowered his glass and looked around the bar until his eyes rested on the temporary memorial to Pyre. Candles and incense burned specially approved for the occasion. Usually, open flames are prohibited on ships except for special occasions or religious exceptions. No one else seemed to notice as Nick broke away from the table, his shot still full. Sara followed him, leaving the merry table behind. He took a knee by the memorial and, to Sara’s horror, lit his shot of Jeremiah Weed on fire. The flame was dancing in the small glass.

  “At least you really did get the kind of funeral you wanted. At least I hope that counted.” Nick said before knocking back the shot, flames and all. Placing the glass next to the candles, a small finger of alcohol still ablaze. “I'm sorry, buddy, we should not have even been there. I hope they have better booze than this wherever you are. Here's some for the road.” Nick said. As he stood up and made to rejoin the table, he looked startled at Sara standing at a respectful distance. She didn't say anything, and he knew he didn't have to. When he walked next to her, she reached her arm out and squeezed his shoulder. He returned the gesture by pulling her into a side hug as they walked back to the table.

  The jukebox apparently had so many old folk songs and shanties mixed with the occasional country song that even after forty-five minutes, two beers, and some chips, shanty music was still playing. The table had split into its separate groups. People have started utilizing the karaoke stage, singing along to some of the music. Selena had separated Dribbles away, clearly planning to seduce him tonight. Klem was having way too much fun singing, including sometimes in his chirp language as he translated the lyric prompter on the fly. Cable and creaky were mixed into the crowd, although their voices were sometimes indistinguishable among the chants of music.

  “And we'll roll the old Chariot along and we'll roll the old Chariot along, and we’ll all hang on behind!’ Half the bar must have been singing. Sara was lounging on a couch near the stage with Nick. He hadn't drunk any more but was still comfortably tipsy, judging by his flushed face. Sara wasn't sure how drunk she was, but wasn't planning to finish her second beer.

  “Your friends that you picked up that cheers from, they like space vikings or something?” Sara asked more giddily than she wanted.

  “They wouldn't like being called pirates,” Nick replied. Sara blinked, confused.

  “What do pirates have to do with anything?” Sara asked.

  “A Viking is a seaborne pirate. My friends certainly weren't pirates. More the kind to aggressively string up and even hunt pirates.” Nick said.

  “Sooo they were?” Sara probed.

  “Let's just say enough of them leaned heavily into Nordic, Icelandic, and Celtic heritage and culture. And that's all I'm saying on the matter.” Nick said. Sara huffed but relented. The two sat there, in a comfortable silence for a couple of songs. Just enjoying each other's company. Sara didn't realize the song had changed until Nick started humming. He was never inclined to sing, and even Sara had only heard him sing only once or twice. His voice was deep and in tune better as he sang absentmindedly.

  “My word stuck in the ground, To plant my seeds of right, In the evil ground I found. Doooooo Dooooo Do right and fear no man.” Nick sang. Sara started waving frantically to Creaky, who was getting off the stage, the microphone in her hand. Nick softly sang in a deep baritone that had a void-like edge of pain at the heart of every word. Creaky handed Sara the microphone, confused until she saw Nick singing. Carefully, without Nick noticing, she held the microphone close. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, his arms draped wide over the back of the couch.

  “My heart beats like Virginia, Split myself in two, One side made for forgiveness, The other pays the dues, Doooooo Dooooo, Do right and fear no man, Doooooo Dooooo, Do right and fear no man.” Nick sang earnestly as if his soul resonated with the words. His eyes opened before the song finished, and he snatched the microphone from Sara. He glared at her, but before he could say anything, there was applause. He shrank into the couch as if to escape the attention. Sara waved her hand around as if clearing smoke from the air while grabbing Nick with her other hand to pull herself over him in an awkward hug, shielding him from the praise.

  “I'm sorry. I'm drunk, but you sing so good I had to! How about you help me home, and you can get away from the crowd that thinks you're cool.” Sara said, lavishing him with praise and overplaying how drunk she was in hopes he wouldn't stay mad at her.

  “Yeah, let's get out of here,” Nick said eagerly, not caring that he was upset with Sara. He was too focused on his way out of the crowd. They meandered through the halls of Grimoire at a slow pace. Sara giggled as they reminisced about old memories together.

  “At least we finally got to spend a good chunk of time together since you got here,” Sara said.

  “I mean, we must have killed five hours last time playing games in your room. That was a good chunk of time.” Nick said.

  “Yeah, but, well, I guess still it's just nice,” Sara said. There were a few paces from her door, and she was happily tipsy. The chips she had eaten earlier and the long walk helped her sober up a little. Nick looked relaxed, and she realized he was standing up straight. She thought originally they were the same height, finally, but having accounted for his depressed, drastic slouch, he had. 0g probably made it harder to compare, but in the regular 1g walking side by side, he still had a half a head over her. The realization made her remember when he was a head and a half taller than her and always loomed over her when he was close or hugging her. How many times had she fallen apart, crying, only to have him walk up and pull her into an embrace? Even when she was a toddler, her mom had videos of her crying like a little baby and a tiny Nick waddling up to her to pat her on the head and give her hugs.

  “Hey Nick?” Sara said, stopping at her door.

  “Hmmm.” He said.

  “Can I have a hug before I go? Like you used to.” Sara said as her door wooshed open.

  “Like I used to?” Nick asked. Sara yawned sleepily and nodded.

  “Yeah, the big ones you'd always do to comfort me. Like when I cried and stuff.” Sara swayed a little bit drowsily and looked expectantly at Nick. Nick stared back awkwardly and looked around the hall. Hey leaned in and pulled her close to him, giving her a firm but gentle hug that felt like it was just shy of picking her up. Sara felt fuzzy in his arms like she was in an impenetrable pillow fort that all her worries couldn't penetrate.

  When she fell asleep, it was one of her more comfortable deep dreams she had experienced in a long time. She didn't remember getting into bed. Something nagged at her subconscious, and she blearily opened her eyes. Her TV was on, and a game of Armored Core 6 was playing. The smell of coffee was in the air as she sat in her large, comfy chair. No, she was sitting on something in her chair. Her groggy brain couldn't wake up entirely until she realized. She was snuggled into Nick's shoulder, held up by his arms as she slept in his lap. She was awake now.

  “Fuck, what! How long have I been asleep?” She yelled. Startled, Nick dropped the controller and covered his ears.

  “Five hours, I couldn't figure out how to get your damn bed to unfold, and you were kind of hard to pry off,” Nick said.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Sara panicked, springing out of his arms.

  “I'm sorry, wait, no, I'm not sorry, I don't know what I was supposed to do,” Nick said. Sara was standing, pacing back and forth in front of her TV. Nick, unsure of what to do, remained in the chair.

  “Okay, it's fine, I just woke up and was really confused, and just a lot. I'm not mad, I just…hehehe.” Sara giggled nervously. Then she realized that there was a fresh pot of coffee, and her kitchen was not necessarily clean, but cleaner than it usually was. In fact, her desk was a little bit tidier and organized. He said he couldn't figure out how to get her his bed out, which was behind the desk, and it wasn't too hard, but if you didn't know how to fold up the desk, she could see how he gave up getting her bed down.

  “Did you, did you clean my room?” Sara asked. She was relatively tidy but was prone to leaving loose items around her room, which was a hazard on a moving ship.

  “Not that much, I did clean your kitchen a little bit after I made myself a snack,” Nick said sheepishly.

  “A snack?” Sara asked. Her brain was fully awake now, but something was scratching at the back of her head. Like it was trying to piece something together.

  “A sandwich, and I made myself coffee. I hope you didn't mind. I uh, didn't want to fall asleep, so I watched some of your movies too. Sorry.” Nick said

  “No, it's fine, I uh.” Her eyes went wide as it clicked. “Wait, you put me down on the couch at some point, right?” Even as she said it, she knew she was wrong. Why had he picked her back up? She felt herself getting hot with embarrassment.

  “No…I uh, well, like I said, you kind of wouldn't let go, and you were passed out really hard, and I really didn't want to wake you. So I just.” He trailed off, realizing what he had done and how awkward it was in hindsight. He hadn't thought anything of it in the moment.

  He didn't need to finish his sentence. Sara was already looking around the room, picturing her childhood friend cooking, cleaning, and moving about with her arms around his neck and holding her in his arms as he cooked, cleaned, and rested with her by the TV. She felt like she was going to melt out of her skin. Nick had carefully and slowly stood up. He was flushed as well, his ears bright red.

  “Thank you,” Sara said, almost like a question. Nick just nodded, awkward silence filling the room. He'd given her so many piggyback rides when they were little. Nick struggled to get her out of his room whenever she'd fallen asleep playing with toys. They weren't kids anymore. Nick looked thoughtful. She knew that he hadn't been able to talk to her about almost anything because of his work. He likely had gag orders preventing him from sharing much, but maybe there was something he could share that wasn't too sensitive, she hoped. Maybe he had been thinking something similar.

  “I used to do the same thing with these kids. I just kind of went about my business like I did whenever one or two of them would fall asleep in my arms.” Nick said, the words tumbling out of his mouth like a dam bursting.

  “You babysitting?” Sara laughed encouragingly. They both had a history of taking care of younger kids before he joined the academy. Even if for Nick, it had more often been him as a ringleader.

  “Not really. There was, I mean, I can't talk about all of it, but there were some orphans. It was a bit crazy some of the time, and I helped out occasionally.” Nick struggled to omit details and say something of substance, but he felt good talking about it. He yawned sleepily.

  “You mind telling me more later? You should get some sleep, too. Let's just not mention this to anyone.” Sara said. She leaned in to hug him, and he returned the gesture. She showed him how to unfold her bed just in case before he left. Sara lay down in her bed, with confused thoughts on her mind as she drifted back to sleep.