Secret Meetings on Holographic High Seas (backpost)
Posted on Mon Sep 28th, 2026 @ 11:00pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Fulvia Benvenuto & Lieutenant Rala
10,124 words; about a 51 minute read
Mission:
The Next Interim
Location: Deck 4, Holodeck 4
Timeline: Three days after "secret deals"
Tags: holodeck,Rala,Fulvia,contraband,chitchat
Secret Meetings on Holographic High Seas
It was strange, Rala thought, having other Draakri around for the first time in the better part of a decade—even if they were merely holocharacters. She gestured for a tall young sand-colored lad to take the wheel, and it occurred to her that their nature as simple non-sapient simulacra was part of the strangeness.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought and letting herself fall more squarely into character. She strode toward the stern of the ship, drawing a telescoping spyglass from a pouch at her waist. She slid open the covers on each end, extended it, and raised it to her eye with two hands while the other two braced against the rail.
The massive Tikkana tree nearly filled her view through the spyglass. She followed its enormous trunk down to the forest, scanned further down to the shoreline, then tracked a bit left to find the port. The other vessel docked there was starting to sink below the horizon, but Rala wasn’t interested in its hull. She focused her attention just above, seeing only furled sails on its masts.
She lowered the spyglass, grinning. Good, she thought, its absence hasn’t been noticed yet. She bounced once in excitement as she turned and jogged down to the main deck. She debated taking the normal, long way up for all of two seconds before stepping over to the main mast.
Immediately aft of the mast was a pulley with a thick rope running through it, the lower of a pair of knots in the rope being held down by a forked metal catch. High above, the rope ran through another pulley, with a heavy bag of sand and gravel attached to the rope, exactly opposite the knots.
Rala grabbed the rope with two hands, planted her left foot on the upper of the two knots, straddling the rope with her toes, stomped on the release with her right foot and pushed herself upward as the sandbag, which approximately matched her own weight, began to fall. Its initial downward momentum before the rope had fully taken her weight combined with her own upward push providing enough energy to carry her up to the platform near the top of the mast. She landed lightly and turned, grabbing one of the taut ropes that helped support the platform to steady herself, then slid open the spyglass’s covers and once again raised it to her eye.
Locating the port again, she watched the other ship for signs of activity. Minutes passed, the distant vessel slowly slipping below the horizon. When all she could see was the top quarter of its mast, she saw what might have been signs of activity, shapes that could have been people moving through the rigging. Too late, she thought, grinning again. She turned slowly, scanning the horizon, then stowed her spyglass and, leaning from the support rope over the edge of the platform, shouted, “All clear! Loose stuns’ls one and two and turn us away west-sou’-west. We’re going hunting!”
A cheer went up from a few dozen voices before they relayed her orders around the ship. She saw the sand-colored lad on the wheel check the nearby compass and begin turning, and a moment later a three-meter extension slid out from each end of the mainsail’s yardarm, and slightly shorter extensions from that of the foresail, each extension deploying its own narrow studding sail. Rala felt the ship’s speed pick up as the extra sails caught more of the wind, and moved to the front of the mast, settling down onto the platform and letting herself adjust to the swaying of the ship while she waited for the other real person who should be joining her.
The illusion was interrupted by the appearance of a door on the aft deck. The short humanoid woman looked very out of place on the Draakri ship, but she walked on, fearless.
When the holodeck door closed and vanished, her senses suddenly picked up the motion and sway of the seafaring vessel. She went to the deck hard, rolling onto her back and laughing. She spotted Rala above and ahead of her. "Hey there, Captain Dragon-Doll!"
“Well met!” Rala called, waving down at her before grabbing the pulley rope once more. “I’ll be right down!” She jumped upward off the platform as she swung out from it, letting her weight come down on the rope and giving her some downward momentum as the sandbag counterweight began rising. She settled her foot back on the knot, then gave the rising side of the looped rope a yank to increase her speed. She didn’t come down quite as fast as she’d gone up, but in just a few seconds she was securing the catch at the bottom before turning to greet her guest.
"Wow!" Fulvia exclaimed, having watched the dramatic descent. She gestured to the 'MERA t-shirt and black shorts she was wearing, obviously having interpreted Rala's 'sea legs' comment as referring to a yacht or a motor boat, not something like this. "I may be a bit underdressed for the part."
Rala herself was in garb that would have been more common most of a millennium earlier, on Earth or Draakrona: a light, slightly loose pullover shirt of palest blue, the unbuttoned collar leaving her cleavage exposed; tucked into worn, faded burgundy breeches of thin, light leather that reached just below her knees.
"You got a garb like that I can try on?" Fulvia asked, having given Rala more than one once-over. "Think the holodeck can make me one my size?"
“Probably,” Rala said, gesturing toward the doors leading to the Captain's cabin under the quarterdeck. “Earth had some fashion around their seventeenth and eighteenth centuries that's remarkably similar to ours—” she gestured at her own outfit, “—from a few hundred years earlier. It's all in the database, so we should be able to come up with something thematically appropriate."
She led Fulvia into the cabin and closed the doors behind them. Her voice took on a slightly more serious tone as she turned back to the Iotian, saying, “You brought the list? I can get started with that while you're shopping for costumes.”
Fulvia pulled a folded sheet of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to Rala. “Here’s everything. It’s on both sides, and includes where they are now. If you do need anything moved, let me know and I’ll make it happen.”
She looked around the interior of the cabin, awestruck at the level of detail. “We had ships like this on Sigma Iotia, I think a century and a half before the Horizon gave us The Book. There was a museum ship in the Jersey Port. This looks so much like it it’s eerie.” She brought up a holographic screen to display period-specific, human-appropriate clothing for her and found a look she liked. The outfit shimmered into existence, measured to fit her perfectly, on a wooden bench next to a map table. “By the time you’re done reading that, I should be dressed,” she added as she pulled her shirt over her head.
“I imagine most species who evolve on worlds with sizeable oceans have a similar period in their history,” Rala said, stepping over to a bookshelf along the starboard wall. “The similarities between ours and Earth’s, for example, from what I’ve seen, are almost staggering until one remembers that there are only so many ways to make an efficient wind-driven watercraft made primarily of wood and cloth.”
Each shelf had a lip along the bottom and a strap a hand’s width above that to help keep the contents contained in heavy seas. She removed the strap from one shelf, selected one with a blank spine and withdrew it, then turned it upside-down and put it back, tapped the spine twice, then withdrew it again, grabbed a stoppered inkwell and a rag from the shelf above, and stepped over to the nearby table.
She pulled over a stool, facing away from Fulvia to give her some privacy, and sat down, unfolding the sheet of paper to see the inventory list and opening the book to reveal a blank page. Uncorking the inkwell, she carefully dipped a claw in it and began writing in Draakri, referencing Fulvia’s list as she went.
"Heh, I never thought of that," Fulvia said, regarding the idea of only so many efficient designs being possible. "Makes sense though. All that would need to change is things like scale and ergonomics. By the way, can I get a pull please?" She sidled next to Rala, her back turned, the strings on the brown leather corset a bit too loose.
Rala paused her writing to glance at Fulvia, her eyebrows climbing slightly. She picked up the rag to wipe the ink off her claw, then turned on her stool and started carefully pulling the corset’s laces tighter. “I’m not sure how practical this is,” she said, “but...this is the holodeck; practicality is flexible here.” She hesitated, concerned about her higher strength, and asked, “That’s not too tight, is it?”
"Just a bit!" Fulvia said with a dramatically tightened breath, before giggling. "Naw, just kidding, it's perfect. And yeah, practicality is all well and good but this is also about having fun, am I right? Besides, it was in the costume catalogue. I wonder who this broad was...I like her style."
Rala tied off the corset’s laces, then tucked the loose ends where they’d be less likely to snag on anything. “Alright, there you go,” she said, leaning back and resting against the table.
"Thanks, Dragon-Pirate," Fulvia said. She found a tall mirror and checked herself out. "Yeah alright. I like this. Might need to replicate a copy for home use," she quipped. "Now, as for my list of not-all-the-way-legal items aboard the ship..."
Rala gave Fulvia’s complete outfit an appreciative glance. “I’ve heard worse ideas,” she said, then hooked a thumb back at the table. “I'm copying the list down, in Draakri, with some notes and ideas as I go.” She turned back to the table, dipped her claw in the inkwell again, and resumed writing. “It will be saved as a secret part of the holoprogram, accessible only to me. Give me another day or two to figure out what should go where, and we can start moving things.”
"Heh. I like the idea that a pirate ship is used to track my hoard," Fulvia said. "But yeah. That's good infosec. Way better than what I was doing. And a bit of fun on the sea while doing Business. I should've done this years ago!"
Rala flicked an ear toward Fulvia and smiled as her clawtip continued scratching the paper. “I thought it appropriate. And I’ve been meaning to test this program anyway; I intend to use it as a framework for...” she trailed off, pausing in her writing and scratching the side of her snout with a clean clawtip. “...I feel a little presumptuous calling it a ‘holonovel’, but it’s heading in that direction.”
"Holonovel, eh?" Fulvia curiosity was piqued. She was about to inquire further when Rala changed the subject.
“I, uh...I had a talk with Kally the other day,” said the Draakri, still scribbling in her holographic ledger.
“Oh?” Fulvia stepped closer and leaned against the desk. “You told her how you feel?”
“As best I can figure them, yes,” Rala said, glancing up at Fulvia. “I used the word ‘crush’ when talking to you about it, and I’m fairly sure it applies regardless.” She returned to scribbling in her ledger. “But truthfully, I’m still figuring out exactly what that means—what those feelings actually are, and what they add up to.” She paused, taking a breath. “I didn’t use the specific word ‘crush’ with her. I told her that I very much enjoy spending time with her; and that when I want company, there are very few people I think of as often as her.”
Fulvia climbed onto the desk and sat on it, eyes wide in excitement. “Keep goin’, doll! What happened next?!”
Rala paused in her writing again, glancing up at Fulvia. “I actually hadn’t been planning on having that talk at all—having it then, I mean.” Her gaze began wandering, as usual. “I’d asked her over to my quarters because with all the stress of Tial, and then suddenly getting promoted to full Lieutenant and taking over from T’Pinga as Chief and reorganizing all of that paperwork, I was stressed, tense, and I wanted a massage. Plus, I wanted to show her the first fruits of a new project of mine I thought she’d be excited about.” She glanced at Fulvia again. “I was right,” she said with a mild grin, “but that’s a different topic.” She drummed clawtips on the desk, leaving tiny spots of ink from the one she’d been writing with. “But, I’d been thinking during the intervening time, and before the massage, I decided to bring up something else.”
Another brief pause as Rala considered her words. “Um...the night of the party...I assume it was you and T’Vel she was having an ‘after party’ with when I stopped back by after dropping Tessa off with Henry? And I likewise assume she told you it was me who’d stopped by?”
“She did,” Fulvia answered.
Rala nodded. “Did she tell you she invited me to join you?”
Fulvia held a hand to her mouth to help contain a giggle. “She didn’t, but I’m not surprised. That’s our Kally, generous and inclusive.” She shifted on the desk, her outfit a bit tricky to sit in. “So why didn’t you say yes? I can guarantee the offer was sincere.”
“The suddenness of the offer caught me off-guard,” Rala said. “I wasn’t ready for that question, and I...kind of panicked.”
“Yeah I get that,” Fulvia admitted. “But next time—and there will be a next time!—I hope you’ll say yes.”
Rala blinked, then looked away, her face blushing darker at Fulvia’s words. “Uhm...well...we’ll see. Like I told her, I’ve never done that with non-Draakri before.” She shook her head, clearing her thoughts again—after glancing with new appreciation at Fulvia and her chosen costume—and continued her earlier line of thought. “Anyway, before the massage, I brought that up with her. I wanted to make sure neither the fact that I’d declined nor my bumbling exit had given her the wrong impression.” A short sigh escaped her muzzle. “It took a couple of tries to get us on the same page, but we got there.”
More claw tapping. “And then, she took the opportunity presented by the conversation to confront me—about not talking to her about things in general, and in particular about my feelings toward her, which apparently she’d picked up on.” Rala rubbed her face with two of her clean hands. “I told her essentially what I described to you a minute ago, and that I’ve been greatly missing physical closeness of any sort with people I know and trust—which is when we finally got to the massage.” She glanced at Fulvia again, a smile returning to her face. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how good she is at that.”
“Heheh,” Fulvia laughed, sticking a hand out for a high five.
Rala looked at the raised hand for a second, rolling her eyes. “It was just a massage,” she said, “and some more chit-chat as she worked.” But she nevertheless raised one of her hands and smacked it into Fulvia’s.
“So you got her hands on ya,” Fulvia brought back up. “Go all the way?” she asked, grinning, hoping that she was willing to discuss that more openly now.
Rala gave Fulvia a look that was a combination of suspicion and amusement while deciding how to answer. “After the massage—and after I woke up from the nap it put me into—she was still there,” Rala began, a smirk slowly taking over her expression. “So, since I still wanted some more of the aforementioned physical closeness, I invited her to spend the night, and we had an absolutely wonderful night in bed together...” She paused for dramatic effect, then continued, “...which did not involve anything lewd beyond occasional bits of conversation, mostly from her.” Her tone and expression sobered slightly as she concluded, “I...still don't know if I'm ready for that just yet.”
“Fair enough,” Fulvia allowed. She did her best to be gracious; Rala might share with her if and when things developed, but only if she felt comfortable doing so, and pressuring her wouldn’t help that.
“What we actually did was drink the last of my rrathka, watch movies, and talk about mostly random things until we fell asleep on each other,” Rala said, smiling wistfully. “I’m...not sure I’ve ever had a night that nice.”
“That sounds amazing,” Fulvia said. “I think that’s when I realized what I have with T’Vel might be real. The sex is great but the real intimacy is in those quiet moments where you’re just together. The other night we both had a hard time falling asleep so we snuggled and watched an old Earth program that dramatized Iotian life pretty accurately. She fell asleep on my shoulder and it just felt nice.”
“Yes,” Rala said. “It’s something I’ve realized has been sorely lacking in my life.” She glanced back at Fulvia. “I envy you and T’Vel, you know. And Henry and Tessa. That special, even stronger bond...” Her gaze wandered again, looking at nothing. “I think I said before that that kind of relationship—whether it be a pair, a triad, or a small group—is somewhat abnormal on Draakrona, but it’s hardly unheard of, and...it appeals to me. Quite a bit, as it turns out. No matter how close your friends are, having someone even closer, who you know feels the same way about you...” She sighed. “I think that’s what I want, Fulvia, if I can find the right person or people. Of course, having only recently realized this, I’m still...’calibrating’, I guess you could say. I don’t know if anyone I’ve met could be that for me, and me for them, or not, or even how wide or narrow the gap is, for me, between that, and just ‘really good friends’.”
“I like the word you used there,” Fulvia replied. “‘Calibrating’. You’ll figure out the specifics. And maybe the one or the group to meet your wants and needs are already in your life, or they’re coming down the line. In the meantime, be kind to yourself, Dragon-doll. Give yourself the time to know what you want. And if you want to explore the physical side of what that means, I guarantee there’s a few people on this ship that’d love that opportunity.”
Rala looked askance at the Iotian sitting on the table next to her, eyes slightly narrowed and a hint of a smirk on her face. “Are you implying something specific, Miss Benvenuto?”
Fulvia smirked and shrugged. “All I know is that night there were four of us fuckin’ and you got four hands. And Iotians don’t believe in coincidences,” she added with a wink.
Confusion passed over Rala’s face for a second—four?—before realizing that Katie must have joined them after talking to her in the corridor; then confusion was replaced with realization, a mild blush, and a slight increase in her heart rate as the beginnings of another fantasy began playing through her mind. Not now, she told herself, shaking her head to clear her thoughts and took a deliberate breath. “Well,” she said, looking at Fulvia again, “I can’t make any promises. Like I said, I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet—even something more...private, let alone a...fivesome.” She found the word jarring to think about, producing a tiny but noticeable hitch in her words. She blinked a few times before continuing, “And I told Kally that if I ever did decide I was ready, she’d probably be the first to know, for a few reasons. But...for what it’s worth, I’d say you’re not too far down the list.”
“Hell yeah.” Fulvia said with a grin.
Rala was about to say something else when the sounds of commotion on deck filtered in through the doors and ceiling, prompting Rala to look up from her writing. “Already?” she mumbled, then called, “Computer, pause scenario.” The commotion ceased, although the gentle rocking of the ship did not. “Either this has been taking longer than I thought, or I need to make some adjustments to the program,” she said; “nothing significant is supposed to happen this soon.”
Rala paused to think briefly, then quickly scribbled down the rest of the items on the list, leaving space to add notes later, then snapped the ledger closed. She held up Fulvia’s original paper list with one left hand while using the rag in the other to clean the right-hand clawtip she’d been writing with. “Got it all copied down,” she said. “Any objection to me destroying this?”
"Please do," Fulvia said. "So what's the scenario about? If you hadn't paused us, what was about to happen?" She smirked. "Should we resume it, once everything is stowed away?"
Rala pulled a candlestick over from the far side of the desk. “Computer, give me a real flame on this candle for ten seconds,” she said. “Bypass holodeck safety protocols for this purpose and duration only, then reestablish; authorization Rala-Four-Two-Delta-Victor.” The expected chirp of acknowledgement sounded clearly, and the the candle flared to life. She held Fulvia’s original list by one corner and placed the opposite corner into the flame, setting the paper alight.
“At this stage, I’m mostly just testing the general behavioral programming for the holocharacters,” she said, moving the sheet of paper around, ensuring the flame consumed the writing on it before letting the last corner she’d been holding fall to the desk, charring away to ash. She got to her feet, returning to the bookshelf with the ledger. “Ship handling, boarding...combat, if necessary,” she continued, repeating in reverse the odd series of steps she’d performed when taking it down. “Ultimately, the plot will involve hunting down a specific major prize, but most of that isn’t in the program yet. For now, we’re just pirates, hunting down merchant ships, liberating valuable cargo to be fenced for profit, and hopefully getting leads on future prizes.”
She opened a closet, continuing to speak as she withdrew a weapon harness, strapping it on. “The commotion on deck is probably from someone spotting sails on the horizon, most likely the prize ship we’re hunting.” The harness was similar to the one she’d worn down to Tial, with four heavy cutlasses across her back and a quartet of wheellock pistols ready to be drawn across her front.
"Ooh, exciting!" Fulvia exclaimed, staring wide-eyed as Rala armed herself so majestically. "You got any of them swords in Iotian size? And maybe an opponent or two on Easy Mode?" She was bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, excited to be a real pirate!
Rala grinned at Fulvia’s enthusiasm. “Computer,” she called, glancing at the ceiling, “add some period-appropriate weaponry suitable for most humanoid species to the small arms locker, and temporarily replace half of each crew with other humanoid species; adjust behavioral algorithms to favor opponents of similar skill levels in combat.” The computer chirped, and Rala grabbed a ring of classic ‘skeleton’ keys off a wall hook, stepped over to a large chest, unlocked and opened it, revealing a collection of sheathed swords and belts, and a variety of pistols clipped to leather straps inside the lid. She stepped aside with a flourish. “Take your pick, my guest,” she said, “although, combat is usually to be avoided. It’s expensive, after all.”
Fulvia stared wide-eyed at the pistols and swords made available to her. She quickly donned a strap and belt each holding a pistol and a sword. She posed heroically in front of Rala. “Oh captain my captain! I’ll follow your lead, ma’am!”
Rala gave Fulvia an appraising look, then called, “Computer, resume scenario.” The commotion outside resumed, and a few seconds later the door burst open to admit an androgynous Draakri of deep, deep green coloration. Seeing Rala and Fulvia standing nearby in full kit, they stopped short. “Sails spotted, ma’am,” they said. “We stowed the stuns’ls per standing orders, but we’re still closing fast.”
Rala nodded and gestured back out toward the open deck, and cocked her head at Fulvia to indicate she should come along, then followed the other Draakri back outside. “Something feels off,” she said, “we shouldn’t have caught them so quickly.”
"A trap?" Fulvia suggested as they got outside. "Are they waiting to ambush us?"
“It shouldn’t...” Rala started, then frowned. “Computer,” she called, “generate a large PADD and display this holoprogram’s narrative parameters file on it.” The PADD appeared in front of her and she grabbed it, scrolling rapidly through the file for a few seconds as she walked. She stopped—both walking and scrolling—and scrolled back up a bit, then down, paused, down some more, and finally stopped and thumped the screen with the back of one claw. “They could be. I added a cluster of randomization factors to the scenario that I wanted to test later on, with the intention of leaving them disabled for now.” She gestured at the PADD. “I forgot to flip the flag from ‘true’ back to ‘false’.”
“Pirates are all about false flags,” Fulvia quipped.
Rala sighed and chucked the PADD overboard. “No time like the present to test these changes, I guess,” she said, then gave Fulvia an unamused glance, “and too many more bad puns and that PADD won’t be the only thing going overboard.” Almost as an afterthought, she called, “Computer, delete that PADD.”
An idea crossed Fulvia's mind, so she called up to one of the Draakri with a spyglass. "Can you see anyone actually on board the target ship?" She looked to Rala and spoke quietly. "If yes, normal crew: more ships will ambush us. If yes but just a few: they have elite fighters below-decks. If no, it's a bomb. Or maybe not, I'm new to this," she added with a chuckle.
“Crew aloft!” called the Draakri from high above, spyglass to one eye. “Active, but...disorganized. Damage to the rigging, two sheets to the wind!”
Rala looked back to Fulvia, and opened her mouth to explain her conclusion, then changed her mind. “Well, Miss Benvenuto? What would your analysis be?”
Fulvia’s brow furrowed as she tried to think through it. “They’ve been through a storm,” she suggested. “Or there’s an even bigger fish out there that hit it hard….” That last point befuddled her. Another predator out there, raiding, but why would they leave a target like? Damaged but still mostly sea-worthy? Unless…
“It’s bait,” she surmised. “Easy pickin’s for us, and while we’re distracted, they come in and catch us with our britches down.”
Rala gave a thoughtful look. The Iotian had seemingly missed one point that she hadn’t, but had also extrapolated a possibility that she hadn’t considered. She looked up the mast and called, “Give me a horizon scan!”
“Aye, ma’am!” came the reply from above, and the spyglass started sweeping their surroundings.
Rala looked back to Fulvia. “We’re agreed on one point, at least; loose sails and damaged rigging: Someone beat us to them,” she said. She cocked her head slightly to one side and gave a tiny smirk. “There’s something you may have missed, though. Disorganized crew: no one’s in command—or at least, no one with experience being in command, especially in a situation like this.”
"Could mean that the previous attack killed their Captain," Fulvia offered. "Or the Captain abandoned ship, leaving them to their fate. Maybe." Or you suspect otherwise, she thought.
Rala tilted her head to the other side, the smirk disappearing. “That said, you thought farther ahead than I did. I think the possibility of an ambush would have occurred to me, but it hadn’t yet.”
“No other sightings, Captain!” came the call from above.
Rala thought furiously for a few seconds, ears twitching. Then she caught the arm of a passing crew member—one of the new humanoids that had been swapped in, this one Bajoran—and unclipped the case containing her own spyglass from her belt. “Take this,” she said, handing it to him. “Climb aloft to the first platform there and keep an eye on our prize ship for anything indicating they’re not just a recently-raided merchant ship.”
“Aye, Captain,” the Bajoran said, fastening the case to his own belt and heading for the ‘ratlines’ normally used for accessing the rigging.
“Keep scanning!” Rala called to the Draakri spotter. “Call out any sightings!” Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode toward the stairs up to the quarterdeck, calling out as she went, “The rest of you, reduce sail! Prepare for possible boarding action, but keep weapons out of sight!”
Fulvia did as ordered, ensuring her sword and pistol were concealed under one of the layers of her functional-yet-fashionable outfit. She leaned against a ledge and stared squinting at the other ship, trying to identify any other detail that might be useful.
Up on the quarterdeck, Rala stopped next to the sand-colored Draakri at the wheel. “Bring us alongside. I intend to find out what happened to them, one way or another.”
Down on the lower deck, Fulvia continued to watch. She had the holodeck summon a spyglass for her. Huh. What's up with that... oh no..."
"Captain!" she called out. "There's something else unusual! Aft, near the rudder."
Rala strode over to the rail, squinting at the other ship. It took her a few seconds, then she spotted it. “They’ve disabled the rudder chain,” she called, “be careful on the approach!” Loose sails were bad enough, but with the rudder also disabled, the other ship was even more at the mercy of the wind, waves, and currents, and could lurch or turn unexpectedly at any moment.
After a moment, Rala descended from the quarterdeck once more, hopping over the rail and onto the ratlines that were typically used to go aloft. She only climbed two steps though, stopping there and leaning out toward the other ship.
Rala took a deep breath as they approached. Time for the gamble, she thought. She cupped two hands around her mouth and called, “Ship in distress, hold fast there, and prepare to be boarded! We intend no harm, I repeat, no harm to your crew nor vessel beyond what has already been done, but we will be coming aboard to examine your cargo, stores and other items. We may even offer aid, depending on the situation.” She refrained from issuing a warning about resistance, glad she hadn’t ordered the black raised and hoping the hardship they’d already endured would be enough to keep them calm—or at least, calm enough.
A rough, strained voice floated back over the water from somewhere in the other ship’s rigging. “We have nothing left you’ll take a fancy to, I suspect! But by all means, and especially if yer offerin’ aid, come on over!”
“Careful, Dragon-doll—I mean, Captain,” Fulvia said, standing behind Rala. “This still stinks of a setup.”
Rala glanced back at Fulvia with a hint of a bashful smile on her face—she still wasn’t used to anyone verbally expressing attraction toward her—then shook her head. “Caution is always wise, but...” She looked back to the other ship as her own crew took in the last of the sails and began readying grappling hooks. “...I don’t know,” she said, “nothing here feels like it’s their doing.”
“Then it’s not them we be worried about,” Fulvia suggested. “But those who did it to them and might still be at hand.”
Or someone else, Rala thought, but remained silent as the grappling hooks were thrown and their lines tied off, binding the two ships together. The gangplank was extended, bridging one ship’s deck to the other, and Rala didn’t wait for it to be lashed down before springing across it and looking around.
The other ship’s deck was in shambles. Loose cordage of all varieties from damaged rigging, one of the few cannons dented and cracked where an enemy shot had chanced to strike it, and a great gouge in the mainmast where another shot had grazed it...and several bodies, only a few of which had been laid aside and covered.
“This is creepin’ me out, Cap’n,” Fulvia said, climbing across the now-secured gangplank more gingerly. “I still think we need to check below-decks though. There’s always somethin’ goin’ on below-decks. And I’d know.” She looked at some of those crew trying to clean up, make repairs, and cover bodies. “It still doesn’t feel right. And don’t say it’s paranoia, ‘cause it’s only paranoia when no one’s out to get you, and that’s not a thing that happens where I’m from.”
Rala gave Fulvia an understanding nod but waved a hand at her to urge patience as a Draakri appeared, climbing up from the deck below and approaching her. He was of light green coloration and looked to be a few years her junior. He stopped a few paces away, and nervously said, “Uh...greetings, Captain...?”
Rala hadn’t yet actually considered a name for her character within the holoprogram, and thought furiously for a second before plastering a genial expression on her face and extending a hand to the lad. “Call me Zee,” she said.
“Zee,” the Draakri repeated, extending a hand of his own and showing mild surprise when Rala grasped him by the forearm. He returned the gesture, relaxing slightly, but still clearly cautious. “What is your nature and purpose, if I may ask?”
“You’re concerned we’re alike to those what did this, aren’t you?” Rala said, releasing his arm and gesturing at the deck. At his nod, she said, “Rest assured, we bear only a passing resemblance to such brutes. It’s true, I was hunting you as well, but I’ve found most Captains and crews to be remarkably reasonable when given a chance to reason, and I prefer not to shed blood if it can be avoided. This...this was uncalled for.” She shook her head, then gestured the Caitian and the red Draakri forward. “Alright lad,” she said, “take these two below and show them what you’ve got left. I saw your rudder chain was disabled as we approached. If we can free it, we will; otherwise, we’ll see about taking you in tow.”
“Aye, Ma’am,” said the green Draakri, turning back toward the ladder.
Rala stepped close to the red Draakri and the Caitian, lowering her voice. “No violence unless they start it, and if they do, keep it to a minimum. Just report cargo and supplies. There might be a smuggler’s hold; you know what to look for.” The two nodded and moved off toward the ladder.
“What’re you thinkin’ is down there?” Fulvia asked when the crew went below-decks.
“What I’m looking for is unlikely to have been down there,” Rala responded, instead heading for the doors to the Captain’s cabin, one of which was hanging open.
She peeked in and immediately lurched back out, flinging a lower arm out to stop Fulvia from entering as a shot rang out and a hole appeared in the wall past the door.
“Whoa!” Fulvia yelled. “Hey, easy now!”
“Easy,” Rala said, glancing at Fulvia but speaking into the cabin. “Easy. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Only then did the sound of sobbing from within the cabin become obvious.
“Oh shit,” Fulvia said. She squeezed past Rala and into the cabin to find another Draakri, feminine, sitting on the floor in the forward-port corner of the cabin; her skin so dark a purple as to nearly be black with blue-white hair, crying and cradling another, similar Draakri whose hair was midnight blue. She was still holding a flintlock, which Fulvia knew to be empty given it had just been fired. “Can we get a medic over here!”
Rala stepped in behind Fulvia, fully taking in the scene this time. She placed a hand on Fulvia's shoulder and whispered, “No need, even if we had one; she’s not breathing,” then moved around her and carefully approached the two dark Draakri, all four hands clearly visible and empty. “No harm,” she said softly.
"Bloody pirates,” the light-haired Draakri spat through her sobs, the empty pistol tumbling to the deck as she added that hand to the three already clutching the other’s body. “Already been set upon once today, barely had enough stores to reach Blunthorn, and now you lot show up to pick the bones?”
“We’re not like them that did this,” Rala said, taking a step closer. “I intend to see that those of you that remain continue living with as little hardship as possible.” She could now clearly see the finger-sized hole in the dark-haired Draakri’s chest; her near-black coloration and her dark clothes had masked the purple blood until she got closer. Rala crouched down, letting her ears droop. “What was her name?” she asked softly.
Rather than answering, the light-haired one merely closed her eyes and lowered her head, clutching the body more tightly and letting out several more sobs, Rala waiting patiently as she grieved. “Torazi,” she finally answered in a tiny voice. “Her name was Torazi.” She opened her eyes and looked up at Rala and Fulvia. “Mine is Takozha. She was my sister.”
”Telah zhrun,” Rala intoned softly. “I’m sorry.”
Fulvia took off her hat and bowed her head, staying quiet.
Takozha’s sobs were beginning to lessen, seemingly more from her energy being spent than anything else. She sniffled and gave Rala a confused look. “But...you’re pirates, aren’t you? Isn’t taking what’s not yours the point?”
“I aim to take what can be spared, what those I’m taking from don’t need and don’t deserve in the first place,” Rala replied, nodding subtly at the body of Torazi. “You lot have had enough taken from you already.”
“Taking booty is one thing,” Fulvia added. “But taking from those with little to spare isn’t good business, and taking lives when it’s not necessary is beyond the pale.”
Takozha’s response was interrupted by a slight commotion from outside, followed by the large red Draakri she’d sent below ducking through the door. “Zee, we’ve—” he started, then took in the situation, his demeanor instantly becoming more solemn. “Apologies, Captain.”
“What is it, Koorzhu?”
“We’ve got an inventory—a very short one—and we’ve spotted sails coming this way. Conclave markings.”
That got Rala’s attention, as well as Takozha’s. “Conclave?” the latter said, eyes widening. “But we’re nowhere near their waters, what would—”
Rala cut her off, snapping, “Time?”
“An hour at most,” Koorzhu said, “less, if the wind changes.”
“There’s no way we’ll get this ship ready to sail in time, and towing her will slow us down too much,” Rala said, thinking out loud. “Is there any powder left?”
“About two and a half barrels, ma’am,” Koorzhu replied. “Shot grazed one; lucky it didn’t go up.”
“Lucky for us,” Rala said. “Get everything you can moved over except that powder; start with the most valuable stuff. The crew too, I’m granting them passage. Get them to help if you can. Get those two barrels of powder up here. Once the deck below is clear, spread the rest of the powder around. And find me a piece of matchcord as long as your arm; from our ship if you have to.”
“What about...” Takozha said, trailing off as the others in the cabin looked back to her. She looked down at Torazi, fresh tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
Rala considered for a few seconds, then turned to Fulvia. “Would you please go relay my orders to the others?” Then she looked up at Koorzhu and nodded solemnly toward the dark-skinned pair. “Take them aboard.”
“Yes, Captain,” Fulvia answered. “Real quick though, can you tell me who the Conclave are? Or does that need to wait?”
“Not friendly,” Rala said, standing. “I’ll explain when we’re underway.”
Fulvia nodded and exited, heading to find others and relay the orders.
As Fulvia left, Koorzhu stepped forward and gently took the body of Takozha from her sister. Torazi didn’t resist, although her hands remained touching her sister until she was lifted out of reach. Rala helped her to her feet, then stepped over to the cabin’s bed and took the sheet from it, returning to Koorzhu and draping the sheet over the body. “They’re to have my quarters for now,” she said to him; “get them settled, and then return to help here.” She then turned to Torazi. “Follow Koorzhu, he’ll take care of you; I’ll be along shortly,” she said, to which Torazi nodded quietly, the two turning to leave.
Now alone in the cabin, Rala turned to the true reason she’d come here.
This captain’s bookshelf was somewhat smaller than hers, and did not contain the set of nigh-identical set of books she was hoping to find. She began looking through cabinets and drawers, and was beginning to think she’d have to start checking the tomes on the bookshelf one-by-one when she found them: four beige volumes, each as thick as two of her fingers. None were labeled on the outside, but opening the first confirmed her suspicions: The captain’s logs.
She flipped to the back, finding this one full with the last entry dated almost a year prior. She put it back and had just picked up another when she heard the sound of someone entering the cabin behind her.
Fulvia had been all over both ships, making sure every one of Rala’s holo-crew heard and understood the orders. Thankfully they responded understanding fully where the orders came from; they must have been programmed to respect her word as if it came straight from ‘Captain Zee.’
“They’ve almost finished with below-deck,” she reported. “Everyone injured is on your ship, and anyone who can walk is helping carry cargo. Estimate completion in five minutes.”
Right behind her, two Draakri—one of her crew, one from this ship—carried in the first powder barrel.
Rala turned to look at Fulvia as she reported, and nodded at the two bringing the powder barrel in. “Good,” she said, opening the book in her hands and flipping through it. Also full. She put it back and picked up a third. “I believe I’ve almost found...”
“Found what?” Fulvia asked, coming closer to see.
Rala ignored her for the moment, flipping quickly from the empty back pages of the book toward the front until she found where it ended, then slowing down and looking more closely. “What I’m looking for,” she finished, smiling...but the smile quickly turned into a scowl as she stared into the book. “Or at least, part of it.”
“What is it?” Fulvia stood on her tippy-toes to try and see the book. “A map? A clue?” She tried hopping to get a better glimpse.
“Confirmation of a story,” Rala said, “and that a ‘map’ of sorts exists.” She held the book where Fulvia could see, revealing that multiple pages had been torn out. “But the hunt will be longer than I’d hoped.”
Across the room, Koorzhu returned, dragging the second powder barrel, and with the length of matchcord tucked into his belt.
“Add it to what I’ll explain underway,” Rala said, snapping the book shut. After a second’s hesitation, she gathered all of the logbooks from the drawer, handing them along with the one with the missing pages to Koorzhu in exchange for the matchcord. “These go to my cabin. Get everyone back to our ship and prepare to cast off; anything we haven't gathered already stays behind. I’ll be along shortly, after I set a surprise for our Conclave ‘friends’.”
“I’ll get everyone back,” Fulvia said. But first she leaned in close to Rala. “This is gonna be a fun adventure!” She scampered out of the cabin and announced to anyone still on board to return to the other ship. She was last to leave, aside from Rala, whom she waited for at the gangway.
Rala drew one of her swords and pried the lids off the intact powder barrels. She tipped one of them until it began spilling onto the deck, then rolled it along its bottom edge, pouring powder out into a rough line back toward the door. That done, she rolled it back to the other and tipped it completely onto its side, spilling a large pile onto the deck. She shuffled the barrel around between the pile of powder and the other barrel until she was sure it wouldn’t roll away as the ship rocked in the waves, then hurried out of the cabin.
She spotted Fulvia waiting by the gangplank and gave her a nod, then climbed up to the quarterdeck to take a sighting on the incoming ship. She made a rough note of the distance to the approaching ship, looked down at the water below to get some idea of what the current was doing, then turned and glanced up at the telltales attached to the rigging. Combining the information as she headed below, she came up with an estimate for when the hostile ship would arrive.
She found the broken third powder barrel near the bottom of the steep steps, surrounded by scattered gunpowder. She spread some of its remaining powder on the stairs and over toward the cabin, connecting the trails, then went back below and dragged the broken barrel and the small amount of powder remaining in it to the center of the deck, and pulled the matchcord from her belt. She measured out a small length of it, added a bit more, and used her teeth to cut it free; then stepped over to one of the lanterns and used it to get one end of it smoldering. Finally, she returned to the barrel and stuck the unlit end into the remaining powder, leaving the matchcord poking out of it like an oversized stick of incense.
Then she ran.
“Go! Now!” she shouted as she emerged onto the main deck. Calls went up from her crew as they let slip the lines that had tied the two ships together, sails unfurled, and her ship began to move.
Fulvia ran as fast as she could across the gangplank. She could feel the ship starting to move as she made the final few steps onto the deck.
Rala hit the best end of the gangplank just as Fulvia stepped off the other end and sprang across it, landing on the deck next to Fulvia just as the other end dropped off the now trapped ship. The gangplank clattered against the side of her own ship, hanging from the ropes attached to it for that purpose, as the ship drew away. “Santal!” Rala shouted toward the sand-colored Draakri at the wheel as she pointed at the trap ship. “Keep that ship between us and the Conclave!” And the rest of you, I want every bit of speed we can muster without using the stuns’ls!”
Voices rang out across the ship as her orders were acknowledged and relayed. Sails were trimmed and she could feel them picking up speed as she jogged up to the quarterdeck once more.
Fulvia was right on her heels. “So when’s the boom?” she asked. I think I see her plan. But that sort of improvised explosive will be hard to time right.
“Hopefully, just as the Conclave passes it,” Rala said, “which, if the wind holds, should be in...” she squinted at the approaching ship, “...seven or eight minutes.”
“Seven or eight minutes, eh?” Fulvia asked, a sly smile on her face. “Enough time to explain the Conclave? Sounds like they’re the villains of this story.”
Rala glanced at her, then looked back out toward the other ships. “Villains, yes; ‘of the story’...” she trailed off, giving a shrug and soft snort. “There's a lot of the ‘story’, such as it is, that's still vague and undefined.”
“Right,” Fulvia said with a nod. “Work in progress.”
“They’re...Kind of a mishmash of several unsavory aspects I’ve seen crop up often in stories—both fiction and otherwise,” Rala said, leaning on the rail. “A particularly successful pirate captain managed to assemble a fleet and claim dominion over a secluded island, and subsequently secure pardons and privateer status for the entire fleet from a middling but growing nation—and, for all intents and purposes, fully independent control over the island.”
As she spoke, Rala’s tone and cadence shifted from ‘an amateur holoengineer explaining a work-in-progress holoprogram’ to ‘a seasoned sailor telling a story’. “Then their patron nation fractured due to internal politics, had a civil war, and was ultimately fully annexed by its neighbors. Since that island wasn’t officially part of the fallen nation, and the others assumed that without their patron, the privateers would either disperse or dissolve into infighting as well, it got ignored...and, at first, it seemed they were right. For years, there were no verifiable sightings of them. It was thought that they’d dispersed, destroyed themselves, or had somehow managed to be self-sustaining on that island and were keeping to themselves.”
Fulvia leaned on a railing, eyes wide, listening intently.
Rala idly picked at a loose splinter of wood with a clawtip as she spoke. “Then something changed. Reports began circulating of unknown pirates attacking ships along the trade routes, flying a flag bearing the fallen nation’s emblem, inverted, on a field of black. They leave few survivors; the ones they spare—and who survive long enough to be rescued—report ruthlessness, brutality, slavery...and the name, ‘Conclave’.”
“…Wow.” Fulvia picked her jaw up and straightened her stance. “I can’t wait to hear more.”
Rala smirked, shifting back into ‘holoengineer’ mode. “I can tell you what happened ‘behind the scenes’ during their period of secrecy, if you want; or I can leave you knowing little more than the holocharacters. Your choice.”
“No, if I’m to join you in playing, then I should only know what I’d know in character,” she agreed. “That is, if you’ll have me. This has been fun!”
Rala glanced at Fulvia, eyebrows rising slightly and ears perking toward her; then looked back out to sea, visibly thinking. “I...let me think about it,” she said. “I was going to see if Calypso would be interested, once I’d gotten more of the narrative framework sorted out. Our semi-regular tennis lessons and swimming sessions are nice, and good exercise, but I wanted something less mundane for us to do.” She glanced back at Fulvia. “It has, admittedly, turned into a bigger project than I anticipated.”
“No, I get it,” Fulvia answered. “I don’t wanna interfere with a plan you’ve made.” Her heart wasn’t exactly behind her words though.
Rala looked back out over the water again, saying nothing for several seconds. To Fulvia, it would have looked like she was staring at the two other ships, one crippled, one pursuing; but she wasn’t actually focused on them, which became apparent when she finally spoke. “I tell you what.” She looked back to Fulvia, nodding toward the crippled ship that was rapidly growing more distant. “There’s at least one more narrative node that has already been triggered, and it relates to that ship, and the one that left her like that; and we should be able to resolve it in one more session. Meet me here in...” her eyes glanced skyward briefly as she consulted her mental calendar, “...four days, if that works for you. We’ll take care of that, and then see how things go.”
The Iotian grinned excitedly and bounced lightly on her heels. “Four days!” she repeated, before saluting Rala. “Aye aye, Captain Zee!”
The Bajoran Rala had lent her spyglass to approached her, offering it back to her. She took it, clipping the case back to her belt and turning the spyglass itself toward the other ships. “Fulvia,” she said, gesturing in the same direction.
Fulvia looked where Rala pointed and her eyes went wide as the show began to unfold. She climbed onto a crate to get a better view.
Rala’s own crew had done well at keeping the trap ship between them and the Conclave vessel, forcing the hostile ship to track close to the disabled one to have any hope of bringing their chaser guns in range—which was exactly what Rala had been counting on.
Her timing wasn’t perfect; the Conclave vessel was still a ship’s length farther away than she’d hoped when the first flare of burning black powder erupted from the trap ship’s deck hatches and out of her gunports, the hatches to several of which were blown clean off the hull. In only a second or two, what remained of the rigging went up, turning the ship into an enormous floating bonfire.
Rala’s ears dipped and her brow furrowed. “The blast must have blown part of my trail on the deck away before the flames could properly light it,” she said, thinking out loud. “It should still catch, the question is when.”
The Conclave ship turned hard to port, trying to put distance between itself and the burning wreck...but nothing that floats can change course instantly on its own, and the Conclave vessel was no nimble sloop. Even as its bow swung away, its stern slipped closer to the wreck.
And then there was another very brief burst of flame from the deck, followed almost immediately by an explosion that tore the entire aft third of the wreck apart nearly down to the waterline and dealt noticeable damage to the stern of the Conclave ship. Pieces of flaming wreckage flew in all directions, many of which struck the Conclave, sending its crew scrambling. Then there was a crack that could be heard clear across the water as the wreck’s mainmast, damaged by its earlier battle and damaged further by the fire and explosions, finally gave way, tearing free of its rigging, toppling, and by pure chance, coming down with its upper third on the quarterdeck of the Conclave vessel.
Cheers went up from Rala’s crew as she snapped her spyglass’s covers closed and collapsed it with a clack. She looked over to Fulvia with a grin on her face. ”That will keep them off our tail.”
“Damn right,” Fulvia said with a smirk. “Now, since we’re free of them…” She got off her crate and stood at attention. “What are your orders, Captain Zee?”
Rala turned away from the rail, slipping her spyglass back into its case. “Set course for Blunthorn!” she called, getting acknowledgements from her crew, then looked back to Fulvia. “I still owe you an explanation, and we need to check on our g—” she was interrupted by a growl from her stomach and paused, looking down and scowling as one hand went to her belly. “Computer, time?”
”Nineteen hundred twenty-two hours,” replied the synthesized voice.
Rala looked back to Fulvia again. “Uh...I suppose I lost track of time. We can pick up here next time. Computer, save and end program.”
The sky disappeared first. Then the characters. Finally, the ship itself; the deck replaced with the duranium flooring of the holodeck.
And at the same time, a pile of clothing, including a navy blue ’MERA t-shirt, black shorts, and underwear fell to the floor as the bench in the Captain’s quarters they sat on vanished.
“Um, Dragon-Doll?” Fulvia asked, blushing. “I know you said I was near the top of your list, but you gotta at least buy me dinner first.”
Rala glanced at her and stopped, taking a second to process the sight; then looked down at herself for another second, developing a blush of her own that was noticeably darker than Fulvia’s.
Both of them were naked, their thematically-appropriate attire having been part of the holoprogram.
Rala slapped a hand over her eyes and kept it there. ”Thrak,” she spat, cursing herself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “I'm used to either being alone in here, or at most with one of the few people who've already seen me naked, and vice-versa, and who I know don't mind.”
“Well, I don’t mind,” Fulvia said, “so you don’t need to worry about that. And now I’ve seen you naked too, so your conditions are met, am I right?” she asked with a giggle. “Anyway let’s grab our clothes before we unlock the door, alright?”
“I’ve learned not to assume someone is okay with nudity,” Rala said, letting her hand drop from her face and opening her eyes. Fulvia stood there, one hand on a hip, looking back at her. She was smaller than Kally—or Katie, for that matter, along with most of the crew—not quite coming up to her chin were they to stand next to each other, with green eyes that were almost as strikingly vibrant as Róisín’s.
After a second or two, she blinked and nodded, stepping over to where her own sky-blue tunic was laying on the floor, having fallen there when the holographic shelf she’d tossed it on had vanished. Her stomach grumbled again as she got dressed, prompting a thought. “I’m sure you were at least mostly joking, but assuming you’re anywhere near as hungry as I am, would you care to join me for dinner in the Lounge?”
As Fulvia finished getting dressed, she faced Rala and nodded. “Love to. Lead the way, Captain Zee!”
As they walked toward Hydra, Fulvia said “You know, I think I might need a cool pirate name…”
“Speaking of,” Rala said, raising a finger, “perhaps, for context, I should tell you a bit about a figure from Draakri legend who...probably bears a real person’s name, but who’s generally treated as a myth due to the nature of the stories involved. She was called Zaphyria...”
END
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