I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A small scruff had taken to my face. A small scar marred my chin on the left side. High cheek bones, almost reminiscent of an elf but the rougher features of a human. It helped, I mused since I was a half-elf bastard son of a Felst Drasnt. A small relatively unknown noble on a small nearly forgotten atoll.
I studied the dark blue eyes in the mirror and shook my head. One of the midshipmen hummed quietly as he strolled down the hallway, shuffling a thick sheaf of papers. "Captain," he nodded and dropped the sheaf before heading onwards.
I grinned wryly. I liked that these people didn't see the need to stand on ceremony. It certainly created a more relaxed atmosphere aboard. Either way I stopped staring at myself and began shifting through the sheaf.
The Albion's report read more like a dockyard repair list than a readiness report, it was something of a shock at first... but hell. Most of the stuff is fixed with chewing gum and bailing wire. The previous captain had written of many a disciplinary action needed to be taken and of the rambunctious nature of the crew. Yet there was a subliminal tolerance and a general fondness of them.
There was always resentment and sometimes resistance to change, and that was doubly true on this station. I would just have to work hard to make the crew like me then. I grinned, that, at least was nothing new.
I made my way to the bridge, passing by the radioman... radiowomen? Radiodog? What would the proper term be for a female dogman manning the radio? I brushed that concern aside as I climbed the short ladder to the bridge.
"Captain on the bridge!" The talker crowed loudly.
I waved my hand, "at ease."
I snagged my cap from my chair, which was bolted to the port side of the pilot house. The bridge relaxed noticeably. I stood beside the chair, leaning against it as I watched the bridge crew go about their duties.
The talker, Minne was extremely short, she's perhaps 3 foot 8 inches tops and could barely see out of the bridge windows when she stood on the tips of her toes. Due to the ears and tail it could be extremely difficult for the amateur to discern wether she was a mouseman or a ratman. I did not need that earful again. It was easiest to see by ear size and tail length, although in general micemen were shorter than ratmen, individual characteristics could make discerning them... difficult.
Minne however had a huge, bubbly personality, but seeing her angry made her seem much taller than she really was. She'd walked past several people she'd gotten in serious rows with and they hadn't even recognized her afterwards. But currently she was nibbling at a small block of cheddar, the headphones hanging about her neck.
The first officer, Mazin was perhaps the ugliest creature to crawl the face of the earth. Born to a strange pairing (an ogre and a goblin) was the most unlucky guy alive. Due to his... unique... heritage he stood an impressive 6 foot 5, but was sickly thin. He was incredibly rule minded, but he was rather bendable so long as the rules in question had not been broken.
The only other member of the bridge watch was a female werecat. Being as she was the officer on deck, she was in temporary command of the ship, however she was the ship's gunnery officer first and foremost. She was something of the ship's unofficial mascot. She rarely, if ever wore a full uniform, instead preferring her own, much abbreviated version.
She'd replaced her black deckstompers with white sandals, cut of the pant legs half way up her thighs and cut off the bottom half of her shirt. Michi made quite the figure. I should, per regulation write her up, but it was more entertaining watching the jealous glares of the crews of the vessels moored nearby when she strolled about the deck.
She was currently however, curled up in my chair, fast asleep. Occasionally her ears would twitch or her tail would flick, but overall she was dead to the world. Mazin stood rigidly, staring forward with an impressive amount of zeal, Minnie just lazily glanced at her but mostly kept to herself, occasionally leaning closer to the pipes to hear what rumors were circulating the ship.
Suddenly the radio operator burst into the bridge, nearly flying up the ladder in her haste. "Urgent!" She shouted hoarsely, panting.
"Ahhhh!" Michi cried, nearly launching from the seat. She quickly calmed and turned, at which point she saw me and paled instantly as I plucked the yellowing paper from the dogman's hands.
"Good work..." I faltered, not remembering her name.
"Radiogirl ensign first class, Ester Paramel sir!" She stood rigidly at attention.
"No need for ceremony ensign, we're technically indoors." I chuckled as I gestured to the half enclosed pilothouse.
The chuckle died away as I read the message. I folded it and handed it to the officer on deck, Michi. "I have the deck and conn." I announced loudly.
"Aye, Captain has the deck and conn, situation normal." Michi chirped, slowly easing off the chair and beginning to slink towards the ladder.
I nodded and faced the talker. "Sound General Quarters." I glanced at my watch.
At first the bridge crew just stared at me like a fable unicorn, mouths agape as I clasped my hands behind my back. Minnie jerked around and slammed the alarm.
The flat barring note blared across the Albion, the faint ringing of alarm bells ringing had off duty sailors nearby pause at the sudden ruckus.
Glancing down the length of the deck I could see a great many sailors just rocket upright from their deck chairs and stare around, looking as if they'd been caught with their pants down. Then confusion rocked the ship as crew who had been about to go on leave raced back up the gangway and raced inside hatches, forward or aft, or up the midships deckhouse.
It took a great while, and Minne dutifully follows out the readiness reports of the ship as the ship readied for action stations as the rest of the bridge crew raced into the bridge, replacing their hats with helmets and pulling on headphones. Michi had long since scampered up to the fire control platform above the bridge.
"Captain," Minne squeaked, "all stations report manned and ready."
I checked my watch again. "Fourteen minutes." I let that hang in the air.
"What's our pressure?" I asked, looking at the bridge watch with a heavy gaze. The torpedo officer, a sickly Lima seemed to wither under my gaze.
"Sev...seventy pounds steady Captain." Minnie squeaked.
"Is that acceptable for combat operations?" I asked loudly.
"Ah... seventy two and rising Captain!" Minnie whispered.
"Good, leadsmen to the bow and stern, light all our boilers, line handlers untie us from the Centuar." Minnie relayed my instructions and I watched from the port bridgewing as the line handlers cast off the lines, much to the confusion of the Centuar's crew, who had been greatly disturbed by my ship's apparent antics.
"Helm, ahead one-third." I nodded and watched as a frothy wake slowly formed as the Albion began to make some headway. As we gained some distance from the Centuar I returned to my chair and stared ahead.
"Helm, take us out, ahead two-thirds. Secure the main battery and torpedos, maintain condition 2 alert." I moved to the front of the bridge, staring at the wide expanse of ocean as the headland receded aft on the starboard side.