Private Jasper LaBrant stood at the bustling spaceport dock, his father, Commander Leon LaBrant, a decorated Space Guard officer, standing tall beside him. To his right, his mother, Sarah, clutched a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes.
"Now you be careful, Jasper," Sarah said shakily. "I don't want to hear about you getting blown to high heck out in the middle of nowhere! And you write, ok? At least once every-"
She couldn't finish her sentence before throwing herself at Jasper, hugging him tightly and sobbing dramatically.
Jasper smiled awkwardly, gently pushing her back. "Mum, please. Not in front of everyone."
His father stepped in, pulling Sarah away. "Now, darling, don't embarrass us here. I know half of these people." He turned to Jasper, his voice filled with pride. "Jasper's a fine sailor, top marks at the academy. He's proven his mettle time and again."
Sarah sniffled. "But this is different!"
"It's time you embarked, son," his father said, ignoring his wife's protests. "Don't keep your new crew waiting."
He saluted Jasper, who returned the gesture crisply.
A voice from the ship called out, "All aboard!"
"That's me," Jasper said. His mother stepped forward, more composed now, and adjusted his hair and collar. "I'll see you soon," she managed to croak out.
"Be safe," his father reminded him.
As Jasper reached for his bag, his mother looked up at the ship.
The HMS Protea loomed before them like a behemoth, a blend of classic sailing vessel and the latest in steam-engine technology. Its brass and copper fittings gleamed in the strong harbor lights, steam hissing from various valves along its hull. Massive solar sails were furled tightly against towering masts, while intricate gears and pistons peppered the ship's sides.
Crowning it's highest mast, was the Space Guard flag.
The ship stretched nearly 300 meters from bow to stern, its hull a combination of reinforced alloys and wood. Multiple decks rose from the main body, and plasma cannons were discreetly tucked away along the sides, a reminder of the ship's defensive capabilities.
His mother drank the sight in, her eyes widening. "Is that really the boat you'll be living on?"
But just then, a commanding voice cut through the air.
"It's a ship, madam. And her name is the Protea."
Standing on the boarding plank above them was Captain Flint. He was a tall, imposing figure with a weather-beaten face and a thick, salt-and-pepper beard. His left eye was a sophisticated cybernetic implant that whirred softly as it focused. He wore a crisp Space Guard uniform adorned with numerous medals, and a long, scarred black coat.
Flint strode down the plank, his cybernetic eye fixed on Jasper.
"LaBrant, I must say, I had my doubts about signing a greenhorn like you aboard my ship."
He nodded to Jasper's father. "But you've had your fair share of commendations. So I was willing to make an exception."
Stopping in front of Jasper, he turned, his eye scanning over Jasper's form dismissively. The captain's face hardened slightly. "But a word of advice, LaBrant. When the captain says board, you board. Have I made myself clear?"
Jasper swallowed hard, standing at attention. "Yes, sir. Crystal clear, sir."
Captain Flint held Jasper's gaze for a moment longer, as if measuring the young man's resolve. Then, seemingly satisfied, he gave a curt nod. "Good. Get your gear stowed and report to the bridge. We cast off in fifteen minutes."
With that, the captain turned and strode back up the plank, leaving Jasper and his parents in a moment of stunned silence.
Jasper's father cleared his throat. "Well, son, you heard the captain. Best not keep him waiting."
Sarah stepped forward, giving Jasper one last, quick hug. "Remember to write," she reminded him again.
Jasper nodded, shouldering his bag. He took a deep breath, looking up at the Protea - his new home. With one final, tight hug from his mother and a pat on the back from his father, Jasper shouldered his pack and strode up the gangplank, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the dock's din.
As he set foot on the deck, the bustle of the crew surrounded him. Jasper's eyes widened as he took in the diverse array of beings moving about the ship, experienced human sailors working alongside alien crew members from various parts of the galaxy.
Near the bow, a Zirgen with shimmering, color-changing skin coordinated with the human crew to adjust the mainsail. By the starboard rail, a Qualaxian engineer, with it's multiple arms, was fine-tuning a complex array of gears and pistons.
As Jasper stood on the deck, taking in the sights and sounds, a booming voice cut through the cacophony.
"You there! New blood, eh?"
Jasper turned to see a lanky fellow with blonde hair striding towards him, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Yes, sir," Jasper responded, standing a bit straighter. "Private Jasper LaBrant, reporting for duty."
The blonde's grin widened. "Well, LaBrant, looks like you're just in time. Got your first assignment right here."
Jasper blinked, surprised at how quickly things were moving. "Really? What is it?"
The lanky man leaned in closer. "Gotta take a meal down to old Gearhead in the engine room. But listen close—he hates noise. You gotta be quiet as a mouse, or he'll blow his top."
Jasper's brow furrowed. He hadn't heard of anyone called Gearhead before, and the name didn't sound like it belonged to one of the ship's crew members. "Who's...Gearhead?" he asked.
The blonde chuckled. "Don't worry about it, new guy. Just be quiet when you go down there, and try not to make too much noise. Trust me on this one." He jerked his thumb towards the ship's galley. "Food's ready in the kitchen. Better hurry, Gearhead doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Jasper nodded innocently, not noticing the stifled laughter from the nearby crew. He made his way to the galley. The ship's cook, a burly man with a perpetual scowl, thrust a loaded tray into his hands without a word.
As Jasper made his way down to the engine room, the clanking and hissing of massive machinery echoed through the space, accompanied by the scent of burning fuel. Steam obscured much of his vision, but he could just barely make out a figure hunched over a workbench in the far corner of the room. Jasper stepped forward, his tray of food balanced precariously in his hands as he strained to see who was down there.
Remembering the warning to be quiet, Jasper attempted to tiptoe towards the lone occupant. He was mere feet away when his boot caught on a loose bolt, and the tray clattered to the floor, sending Jasper stumbling forward.
In a flash, the figure whirled around. But instead of speaking, they charged towards Jasper, a wrench held aloft like a club.
Jasper's eyes widened in terror as he saw the engineer swing the wrench at him, but he was a beat too slow to react. The tool flashed through the air, missing Jasper by mere inches and striking the console behind him with a loud clang, sending up a spray of sparks at the collision.
The man turned his head, his goggles seeming to glint menacingly in the dim light as he glared at Jasper from across the room. Jasper stumbled backwards, landing on his butt on the floor with a thud.
"Who are you!?" the man demanded, his voice surprisingly young. "Speak up!"
"J-Jasper LaBrant!" he choked out, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make any noise!"
The man's chest still heaved with anger, but slowly, his shoulders began to relax. "Incompetent. Can't even manage a simple task without making a mess," He murmured, lowering the wrench.
Jasper felt his face flush with anger and embarrassment. Who the hell did this guy think he was?
The man stepped back, allowing Jasper to rise to his feet. Jasper exhaled a shaky breath and took a step back from the man, trying not to make any sudden movements that might provoke another outburst from the engineer.
"Look, I'm sorry about the noise," Jasper said, trying to keep his tone civil.
The man stepped closer, his head tilted as he cut Jasper off mid-sentence. "New crew, eh? And let me guess- they told you to be quiet?"
Jasper nodded nervously, "Yes?"
A snort escaped the engineer. "Of course they did,"
With one hand free and the other still holding the wrench, he reached up and removed his goggles, settling them onto the top of his head. At that moment, Jasper's world seemed to stop.
Even through the grime and oil stains, the man before him was breathtakingly beautiful. His features were like something out of a classical painting - high cheekbones, full lips, a jawline that could cut glass. Dark red hair fell in waves, framing his face and catching the dim light like burnished copper. White, unfocused eyes somehow only intensified his otherworldly beauty.
For a moment, Jasper stood transfixed. He'd never seen anyone so stunningly gorgeous in his life.
The man's gaze remained fixed on some point just over Jasper's left shoulder as he began to speak again. "Thaddeus Beaufort. You were hazed, private. It's an old trick. First rule of the engine room: always announce yourself when entering. No exceptions."
Jasper's eyes widened as realization dawned. He glanced around the noisy engine room, then back at Thaddeus's milky white eyes. "I... I'm so sorry, It won't happen again," he stammered.
Thaddeus nodded curtly. "See that it doesn't. I can't afford to assume every unannounced visitor is friendly. I can barely hear what's going on up there as it is." He cocked his head, seeming to listen intently to the sounds from above deck. "Now clean up that mess and get out of my engine room."
And just like that, the spell was broken.
Jasper scowled, a reminder that a pretty face didn't make up for a rotten attitude.
But still, Jasper scrambled to comply. Thaddeus continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "Oh, and from now on, you're on meal duty. Try not to be so clumsy in the future."
Jasper gritted his teeth, resenting being ordered around by someone so arrogant. "Understood," he said stiffly.
The following days passed in routine. Jasper faithfully carried out his new responsibility, bringing Thaddeus's meals down to the engine room every day, as he'd been ordered. The engineer barely acknowledged him, responding to Jasper's attempts at conversation with curt, pragmatic answers that left Jasper feeling like he was speaking into a void.
As Jasper made his way through the ship's narrow corridors, the smell of the day's rations - a stew of questionable origin and even more questionable flavor - wafted up to assault his nostrils. He balanced the tray carefully, his mind drifting back to the last time he had brought Thaddeus his meal.
Jasper had entered the engine room to find the engineer hunched over a stubborn intake valve, and remembering the strict rule about announcing himself, Jasper had cleared his throat and called out, "It's Jasper. I have your lunch."
Thaddeus had barely glanced up, too focused on what was in front of him. "Just leave it on the table," he had ordered.
Sensing an opportunity to engage the engineer, Jasper had pressed on. "I was wondering if you might need any help. An extra set of hands could—"
"No," Thaddeus had cut him off.
Jasper had blinked, taken aback by the engineer's tone. "I was just trying to—"
"I said I don't need your help, LaBrant," Thaddeus had snapped, never taking his hands away from what he was working on. "Now, if you're done wasting my time, kindly get out of my engine room."
Jasper had felt a flicker of hurt and frustration, but he'd simply nodded and turned to leave, not wanting to provoke the engineer further.
It had been a week since he'd been assigned this task, and Jasper was beginning to dread the daily interaction.
Now, as Jasper approached the familiar door, he steeled himself for the inevitable barrage of snark and condescension. He'd learned quickly that Thaddeus Beaufort was not one for small talk or pleasantries.
Remembering (again) the engineer's strict rule about announcing oneself, Jasper cleared his throat.
"Jasper LaBrant," he announced.
Thaddeus's head tilted slightly towards the sound. "LaBrant. Punctual as always. I suppose that's one redeeming quality."
Jasper stepped into the room, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim, flickering light of the consoles and displays. Thaddeus was where he always was, hunched over his workstation, his fingers dancing across the keys with a speed and precision that never failed to impress Jasper, even though he was a bit of an asshole.
"Your dinner, Mr. Beaufort," Jasper said, "Stew and fresh bread today."
Thaddeus grunted, not turning from his work. "Put it over there," he said, waving a hand vaguely towards a cluttered side table.
Jasper looked around, searching for a clear spot to set down the tray, but the space was a maze of machinery and wires, every surface covered in tools and spare parts.
It was chaotic, but Jasper could sense an underlying order, a method to the madness that spoke of a brilliant, if unconventional, mind.
"Um, Thaddeus? Where exactly should I put this? There doesn't seem to be any free space," Jasper asked.
Thaddeus sighed, his fingers pausing on the keys. "Just put it anywhere that isn't covered in equipment. Use your eyes, LaBrant. You have two functioning ones."
Not too carefully, Jasper wedged the tray into a small clear patch on a nearby workbench, squeezing it between some circuit boards and a disassembled power coupling. "There we go," he said, more to himself than to Thaddeus. "Do you need anything else?"
"Your continued absence would be delightful, thank you," Thaddeus replied dryly, already turning back to his work.
Jasper nodded, used to the engineer's attitude by now. "Right. I'll leave you to it then." He turned to leave, but took a moment to glance at the various readouts and displays. He leaned in slightly, his eyes scanning the intricate patterns and data streams, fascinated by the complexity of it all.
After a moment, Thaddeus's fingers stilled on the keyboard, turning his head slightly in Jasper's direction. "Do you need something, LaBrant?"
It was a clear dismissal, and Jasper knew better than to push his luck. "No."
"So what are you doing still standing there with your thumb up your ass, private?" Thaddeus snapped, turning back again to his console.
Jasper stood there for a moment, his eyebrow twitching. He wanted to snap back, to tell Thaddeus exactly where he could shove his caustic attitude.
But instead of lashing out, he found himself simply nodding and turning to gather the tray from the previous meal.
But as he did, Jasper paused, his hand hovering over the untouched tray of food. A frown creased his brow as he realized Thaddeus truly hadn't touched a single bite. Worrying his bottom lip, he turned back, weighing whether to say something further.
"You, uh... you didn't eat your dinner again," he ventured carefully,
Sure enough, Thaddeus's shoulders stiffened, his fingers pausing on the keys. "I wasn't aware my eating habits were any of your business, LaBrant," he quipped back.
Jasper flinched, but pressed on. "I know, I just... you need to eat, Thaddeus."
As soon as the words left his lips, Thaddeus spun his chair around fully, his sightless eyes somehow managing to bore into Jasper with an intensity that made the mechanic want to squirm.
"Let me make something abundantly clear, Private," Thaddeus said, his voice low and dangerous. "I do not need you to monitor my food intake. I do not need you to concern yourself with my well-being. I have been taking care of myself long before you set foot on this ship, and I will continue to do so long after you're gone."
Jasper stood his ground, even as Thaddeuss' words cut deep. He knew he should just apologize, grab the tray, and leave. But something in him, some stubborn spark of care and concern, wouldn't let him back down.
"I'm not trying to coddle you, Thaddeus," he said defiantly, "I'm just trying to be nice."
Thaddeus's lip curled, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He leaned forward in his chair, folding his hands across his knees. "Nice? 'Nice' is just a polite word for 'wants something.' So, tell me, what do you want?"
Jasper threw his hands up in frustration. "I don't want anything from you, Thaddeus! Except maybe a 'thank you' every once in a while, or a conversation that doesn't end in insults."
Thaddeus snorted, turning back to his console. When he spoke, his voice was low and cold. "You want a thank you? For what, doing the bare minimum at your job?"
Jasper's hands balled into fists at his sides, the insult stinging more than he cared to admit. "I'm a mechanic," he said, his voice tight, "I keep this ship running, same as you."
Thaddeus actually laughed at that, the sound harsh and mocking. "Oh, please. You're a glorified grease monkey, LaBrant. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're on the same level as me."
Jasper saw red, the weeks of pent-up frustration and hurt boiling over. "You know what, Beaufort? You're right. I'm not on your level. Because unlike you, I actually know how to treat people with basic decency and respect."
He took a step forward, jabbing a finger towards Thaddeus's chest. "You may be some kind of engineering genius, but you're also an arrogant, condescending ass. And I'm sick of your attitude."
Thaddeus's eyebrows shot up in surprise before they settled back into their usual mask of cool disdain. "Well, well. The kitten has claws."
Jasper gritted his teeth. "You're not my superior, Beaufort. We're crewmates. Equals. Though you seem to have a hard time grasping that concept."
Thaddeus waved a dismissive hand. "Semantics. The point is, your opinion of me is irrelevant. I'm here to do a job, not to make friends with the help."
Jasper recoiled as if he'd been slapped. "The help!?" he repeated, "Is that how you see me!?"
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, "See you? In case you forgot, LaBrant, I have a bit of a disadvantage in that department."
Thaddeus shrugged, the gesture infuriatingly casual. "But I mean… If the shoe fits."
Jasper stared at him for a long moment, battling with himself. Anger, frustration, disappointment... and beneath it all, a deep, aching sense of inadequacy.
Because despite everything, despite the insults and the dismissals and the constant belittling... a part of him had still hoped. Still wanted to believe that there was more to Thaddeus than this cold, callous exterior.
"Look, LaBrant," Thaddeus continued, his tone condescending as though he were speaking to a naughty child. "I'm sure you're very excited to be here, but I have work to do. Important work that requires concentration and precision. So unless you have something actually useful to contribute, I suggest you find somewhere else to be."
Jasper bit back a scathing retort, his jaw clenching. Instead, with a curt nod that Thaddeus couldn't even see, Jasper turned sharply, grabbing the untouched tray with a bit more force than necessary. The dishes clattered, but Jasper couldn't bring himself to care.
He stomped towards the door, his boots ringing against the metal grating with each angry step. The engine room suddenly felt suffocating, and he wanted to put as much space between him and Thaddeus as possible.
But just as he reached the threshold, a subtle change in the engine's constant hum caught his attention. It was a slight shift in pitch, barely noticeable, but Jasper had been around enough machines to know what sounds were normal, and which ones weren't.
He paused, one foot in the corridor, his anger momentarily forgotten as he focused on the anomaly. As a mechanic he knew, any deviation, no matter how small, could be a sign of a larger problem lurking beneath the surface.
Jasper looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the irregularity. It wasn't a grinding or a clunking, which would have indicated a mechanical issue. Instead, it was a subtle wavering, a slight oscillation in the pitch that suggested a problem with the fuel flow or the energy output.
For a moment, he debated whether to say anything. His pride, still stinging from Thaddeus's harsh words, urged him to keep walking, to let the arrogant engineer deal with the problem on his own. After all, hadn't Thaddeus just dismissed him as nothing more than a "glorified grease monkey"? What did he care if something was wrong with the engines?
But Jasper knew he couldn't ignore it. His sense of duty, his deep-seated need to keep the ship and its crew safe, wouldn't allow him to walk away from a potential issue, no matter how small.
With a sigh, he turned back, setting the tray down with a deliberate clunk. He folded his arms and faced Thaddeus, who had already resumed his work at the console.
He took a deep breath, trying to quell his resentment before speaking. "Is there something wrong with one of the engines?"
Thaddeus's fingers immediately stilled, and he turned his head sharply in Jasper's direction. "What did you say?" he asked sharply.
Jasper took a step back, suddenly aware that he had overstepped. "I-I just noticed a change in the engine's sound. I thought maybe something was wrong."
For a long moment, he was silent, and Jasper braced himself for another dismissal, another cutting remark about his inadequacy.
But to his surprise, Thaddeus' expression relaxed. "You noticed that, did you?"
Jasper blinked, taken aback by the lack of hostility. "I... yes. It's slight, but it's definitely there."
Thaddeus hummed thoughtfully, his fingers tapping a rhythmless pattern on the console. "Mm- well, your ears seem to serve you better than your tongue, Private. The fluctuation you detected was a result of a minor fuel intake issue. It has already been resolved but it will take a few days for it to sound normal again."
Jasper gaped at him, stunned by the civil response. "Oh," he managed after a moment. "That's... that's good then. That it's nothing serious."
"I have it under control." Thaddeus continued, "Now, don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Jasper took it as the dismissal it was and turned again to leave. But as he reached the door, Thaddeus's voice stopped him.
"LaBrant."
Jasper paused, looking back over his shoulder. Thaddeus had spun around in his chair, his whole body now facing Jasper.
"That thing you noticed about the engine. The change in sound." Thaddeus paused, as if struggling with the words. "It was... astute of you to pick up on that. Not many would have caught that, especially not so new to the ship."
With those words, Thaddeus whirled around, turning back to his work.
Jasper blinked again, taken aback by the grudging praise. As he made his way out of the engine room, he couldn't help but glance back at Thaddeus. The engineer was once again hunched over his console, his face illuminated by the glow of the screens.
But there was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his mouth that spoke of more than just concentration. A slow realization began to dawn on Jasper just then.
It wasn't that Thaddeus was a bad person, Jasper mused. He was just... difficult. Prickly and proud and so damn sure of his own superiority.
But he was also brilliant. And dedicated to keeping the ship running smoothly, no matter what. Those were qualities Jasper could respect, even admire. Even if they came packaged with a personality that made him want to tear his hair out sometimes.
He knew it would take time, and patience, and a willingness to weather the storm of Thaddeus's caustic wit.
Luckily, Jasper had all three in spades.