When the Astrum Vitae finally jumped out of the Paradise system, everyone on the bridge seemed to relax just a bit, a tension they’d grown accustomed to finally dissipating. Min-ji slumped in her chair even as Eun-ji began analyzing her terminals, while Aoibhe just sat entirely still at the pilot seat.

  “Anything out there Eun-ji?” Miliam asked after giving the dokkaebi woman a few moments to look things over.

  “Nothing right now. The fourth planet looks like it would be a good spot to hide, though. Something big must have hit it relatively recently…there’s a lot of debris in orbit and a huge chunk of the surface is just gone,” Eun-ji reported.

  “It wasn’t…inhabited, was it?” Miliam asked worriedly.

  “Oh, no! There’s not enough residual liquid and gas to indicate it ever had much of an atmosphere,” Eun-ji replied to Miliam’s relief.

  “Alright, great. Aoibhe, hide us in the debris field please.”

  Soon the ship settled into orbit of the shattered world. Despite how horrific it was to look at, bringing to mind imagery of Earth after being hit by something the size of Mars, there was also a certain wonder to the sight. What had to have been miles of the planet’s crust and mantle were exposed and the innermost visible sections had a slight glow to them. Countless rocks ranging in size from pebbles to mountains floated in orbit of the world; in the middle of them, the Astrum Vitae looked like nothing more than another fragment of its surface.

  It served as a much-needed reminder to Miliam of why she was out here and how small her problems were in the grand scheme of things.

  “You all know the drill by now. As always, let me know if you see anything on sensors Eun-ji. Everyone else is free to go,” Miliam announced over the ship-wide comms. She stepped off the bridge but waited for Aoibhe before going further; it was probably best not to make a show of asking to speak with her in front of Min-ji and Eun-ji. Once Aoibhe stepped into the hall and the door closed, Miliam cleared her throat. “We need to talk. Let’s go upstairs.”

  “Uh…aye, cap’n” Aoibhe acknowledged, caught by surprise. She already had a defeated look on her face, but Miliam didn’t want to get bogged down talking in the corridor so she pretended not to notice and went for the stairs. They ascended the stairs in silence and headed into Miliam’s quarters, where she dropped into the chair at her desk.

  “Ugh. I need to get another chair in here. Just sit on the bed for now, I guess,” she told the pilot, who looked at the bed nervously before perching herself on the tiniest bit of the bed she could manage. “So, let’s talk about what happened. Do you know why I’m upset?”

  “Aye. You’re not a child and I shouldn’t be treating you like one,” Aoibhe said while staring at her own feet.

  “That’s part of it. I don’t appreciate being treated like I’m a little kid in distress that needs to be protected from the consequences of her own decisions. Interrupting me to give that order didn’t absolve me of guilt, it just made you feel better by indulging in this…savior complex of yours.” Aoibhe already looked like she’d felt Miliam’s words as physical blows, so she decided to move on. “But I don’t think you considered the ramifications of doing that.”

  “The…what?” Aoibhe asked in confusion. Between the translator charms and Aoibhe’s own grasp of English, Miliam assumed it wasn’t the word that had her perplexed.

  “Aoibhe, everyone knew I was about to give the order to fire. When you did it instead of me, you told everyone listening that I’m just a figurehead giving orders until something too big for me to decide on comes along,” Miliam explained.

  “I don’t understand. I know I messed up, but everyone still knows you’re the captain, right?” Aoibhe asked.

  “Whether they think that consciously or not isn’t the issue. If there’s any doubt about who’s in charge, it could cause a delay while someone checks with you before following through,” Miliam elaborated tiredly. Admittedly, that was knowledge gleaned from textbooks- that ‘Being a Captain for Dummies’ type book Aoibhe had bought for her, specifically. But she’d seen it in action, albeit in reverse: Tessa had hesitated when the command came from Aoibhe, only obeying when assured Miliam herself approved.

  The problem was that now a precedent had been set. If Aoibhe was allowed to do that once, then next time Tessa in particular might assume that was the case again without asking. Miliam still needed to follow up with Tessa to clarify that point, but she’d prefer if Aoibhe cleared things up with Tessa first.

  “Ah,” Aoibhe intoned, realization dawning on her face. “Shit. I should have thought of that. This isn’t the first ship I’ve served on, I’ve seen it happen.” Saying that, Aoibhe slapped a palm to her forehead. “Look, I’m sorry. Abigail already raked me over the coals for acting like this but something just came over me in the moment. I’ll…make sure Tessa knows what happened.”

  “If you hadn’t volunteered I was going to ask you to.” Miliam studied Aoibhe, deciding she seemed sincere in her apology. She realized that she no longer found the fay woman quite so intimidating as she once did and wondered when that had happened. Was it when she caught her not heeding her own advice about Abigail? Or was it just now, seeing how defeated she looked? “As long as it doesn’t happen again, I’ll forgive you this time. We’ll just consider this a first strike. I still need to punish you somehow, but I don’t know what that will be yet, so I’ll put it on hold until I decide.”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  In the olden days, punishment duties were simple. Usually it meant janitorial work of some kind like scrubbing the toilets, but most of that was handled by enchantments now. Dust and debris was pulled from the air by filters which were then cleaned with magic, separating the filth and purging it form the ship. Similar enchantments kept floors, walls, and other surfaces clean just by preventing anything from sticking to them, making them easy to clean with air currents or flowing water. A person wasn’t integral to that anymore.

  Miliam could dock Aoibhe’s pay instead, but she’d first have to know what she’d be paying the woman to begin with. While Miliam knew Aoibhe was owed a percentage of the ship’s earnings, she didn’t know what the total from this job would be yet. Even if Aoibhe got only two percent, for example, a payday in the hundreds of millions of reserves would still leave Aoibhe with millions if Miliam halved her pay. Although she doubted a sum like that was realistic, she didn’t want to commit to a punishment that could result in making the woman an instant millionaire; it wasn’t much of a punishment.

  What that left, though, Miliam wasn’t sure.

  “Thanks. But, uh, I think I owe you an explanation at this point. I’m not trying to make excuses, you just…deserve to know,” Aoibhe said resignedly. “I don’t think I need to remind you about my experience with pirates, right?”

  “Nope. Still think it’s a matter of time,” Miliam answered with a smirk. The atmosphere lightened a bit.

  “Aye, well, my first encounter with them was during my first job out of academy. I’d just broken up with Abigail at the time since I wouldn’t be around much and got a position as copilot on a merchant ship.” Aoibhe chuckled darkly. “Had a crush on the pilot, but it didn’t work out. Wrong orientation. Anyway, my captain had gotten lazy after years of doing the same route, so he’d started using the same coordinates in every system.”

  “Doesn’t the pilot usually handle that?” Miliam asked, knowing Aoibhe did exactly that.

  “Not on that ship- the captain was a pilot himself once and felt more comfortable doing it himself. I think someone learned about his habit or a crewmember leaked the information though, because halfway to the destination we teleported right below a waiting pirate ship,” Aoibhe continued with a grimace. “Before the sensor officer even opened his mouth we were taking fire. I was able to get my space suit on before the atmosphere completely escaped the bridge, but…there was a hole in my helmet.”

  “Which is when you discovered your miraculous ability to breathe vacuum?” Miliam asked flippantly, trying to keep the mood from getting too dark.

  “Hah! Not quite. Nay, I passed out from lack of oxygen. I think the pilot cast a spell to maintain an air bubble long enough to give me her helmet. She was dead by the time I woke up,” Aoibhe revealed. “I was able to survive for a while by scavenging oxygen tanks and ration packs and holing up in a closet I could fill with air to eat. Ironic thing is, the captain’s bad habit saved my life, because his brother knew where to look when he didn’t show up.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Miliam said, not sure what else to say. Aoibhe shrugged.

  “It is what it is. Anyway, the first captain’s brother took pity on me and hired me on. That worked out for a couple of years, right up until he cheated the wrong woman at cards. She got her buddies together and managed to slip a virus into the ship’s computer while it was docked. It was a clever little bug that transmitted the ship’s destination just before it teleported, once the calculations were complete.” Aoibhe looked like she’d bitten into something sour, probably because she’d made those calculations herself.

  “…and since ships spend a few hours recharging between jumps, the pirates had plenty of time to catch up,” Miliam concluded. Aoibhe nodded confirmation and then continued.

  “It was a great plan. Or it would have been, if they’d realized that if they could catch the transmission anyone could. At this point I was wearing my space suit all the time so when the pirates showed up and blew most of the ship to hell I survived long enough for a patrol cruiser to show up and return the favor,” Aoibhe explained with a bit of satisfaction on her face.

  “And the third one was the Kinzela?” Miliam asked.

  “Aye. Still don’t know how that happened or who did it. But there I was, running out of oxygen, and some waif looking like she’s barely out of her teens appears like a miracle on a derelict ship and saves me,” Aoibhe finished with a shrug. “I really thought my luck had run out that time. Between that and your looks, I suppose I just…put you on a pedestal as my savior.”

  After hearing all of that, Miliam wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of her wanted to take it easier on Aoibhe in light of her trauma, but the woman herself had said she wasn’t trying to make excuses by telling her story. With that in mind, Miliam decided to take her at face value and look at it as Aoibhe simply getting it all off her chest. Instead of comforting her or giving her pity, she went in another direction.

  “I’ll have you know I’m twenty-six. I only look young to you because you’re so tall,” Miliam informed the fay woman.

  “Wait, you’re older than me?” Aoibhe’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’m only twenty-four…actually, hold on, aren’t you technically closer to seven hundred?”

  “Only if you want me to find a way to bust all the enchantments on the toilets and make you clean them with a toothbrush.”

  Codex Entry: Enchantments

  ‘Enchantment’ is a catch-all term for any spell that is intended to be carved into a physical medium and kept active for long periods of time. Ordinarily spells require a caster to maintain them, both by ‘processing’ the spell itself with their mind and by feeding mana into the spell, but enchantments are designed to require only an initial activation and an external power supply, which doesn’t need to be a living being.

  A typical enchantment operates indefinitely so long as it is powered, regardless of the effect. These do not have an activation condition, so their effect is persistent from the start. Unlike spells, enchantments are cast using the understanding of the enchanter and not the caster, allowing anyone to operate them. This is achieved by channeling mana into the spell circle during its creation in a fashion similar to that used by translation charms, ‘programming’ the functionality in ahead of time.

  An enchantment with an activation condition is considered a ‘ward’ or a ‘trap’. These enchantments are provided with enough mana upfront to power their activation and maintain an effect that checks for a preprogrammed activation condition. An example would be a loss of atmospheric containment, which might cause a ward to activate that prevents the atmosphere in a given volume from escaping as long as power lasts. Wards like this will activate regardless of access to mana circuits for a brief time but are usually dependent on central power to remain active for longer.

  Although enchantments bear a resemblance to conditionals in programming, they are far more limited. Each enchantment can only have one effect, so it is not possible to construct an enchantment whose effects differ based on the situation. While it is possible to simply craft an array of enchantments with different activation conditions to compensate, this is very time consuming and impractical since every enchantment in the array must be carved manually, so this is only utilized in essential technologies like translocation drives where the utmost safety is required.