~Short bit of writing No. 1~
The woman leaned forward, the salty air rushing through her short hair as the endless ocean sprawled out before her. She could taste the salt, feel the heat of the sun, far too much for any of those not born out on the planet, un creatively called Oceania.
“I see one of them!” She grinned, noticing that familiar splash of foamy water, the flash of silver fins. “Make haste, I say! We’ve almost got it!”
It was unsurprising that many assumed the captain of the SS Adalanta a bit mad, but she knew she wasn’t. Those creatures with their slippery fins and slender bodies could only hide from her sharp eyes for so long.
Standing on the actual deck of the ship, rather than the very edge was Captain Andromeda’s first mate, called Icarus. Clearly, old names like those had come back into popularity. Icarus himself could never say why, he found them quite long and bothersome. Hence why he called himself Carus and Captain Andromeda simply Mida.
Turning toward the rest of the crew, all other close friends of the captain, Carus lifted a shoulder. “You heard her,” he said. “Make haste, I suppose.”
He could hear Mida still at the front and the volume of her voice made him cringe. “You can’t escape me this time, Silver! We’re right on top of you now!” Followed, of course, by that cackle of a laugh she had.
One of the rowers, Perdix, sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, before grabbing ahold of his ore once again. “Shanty?” He asked.
The rower opposite him, Perseus, nodded, cracking his knuckles, before taking ahold of his own ore. He began the song with a long note, his voice gruff and husky.
As the crew began to sing, Mida cackled again, leaning forward. Her boots squeaked as she slid along the long spike protruding from the front of her ship. “Faster! Sing faster!”
And they did, for what else could they do? Deny the captain’s orders? Certainly not. The last time someone had done that, the perpetrator, Cassiopeia, or simply Cassy, had been made to sit in the brig for the rest of the evening. Carus couldn’t lie, the whole crew loved Mida. She was just a bit... out of it.
As one song came to a close, another began before Mida could shout once more. She continued to inch forward as the ship rocked. The silver fin was so close now. She might reach out and grasp it. She squinted, blinking salty, steaming drops from her eyes as she continued crawling along the spike.
The first mate looked up from where his eyes had been fixed, on the many scars criss crossing his gnarled hands. One of the rowers in the back, Hestia, was pointing frantically forward, a look of pure terror in her doll like eyes.
Carus turned quickly, his face dropping at the sight of Mida, dangling upside down off the very edge of the ship’s spike. Any wrong move, a bit too much rocking, the slip of a finger, and she’d fall in and likely be crushed by the Adalanta.
“Mida,” he called. “What in the sea’s great name are you doing?”
“I just need to get a little closer, keep going!” Mida called, one hand outstretched to grab something Carus couldn’t see. She looked desperate for it, like it would complete her life once she got her own calloused hands on it.
“Captain!” Perdix called out. “That’s dangerous! Be careful!”
“I said get me closer!”
Carus dragged a hand through his sunny gold hair, squeezing his eyes shut a moment at the sight. He wanted to tell her no, say she was crazy, drag her back onto the deck, kicking and screaming by the hair if he had to.
But, of course, he couldn’t.
Nobody, nobody in all the galaxy could possibly tame that woman, nobody. Especially not him or the rest of the crew. He looked helplessly back to the rowers. To Perdix and Perseus, to Hestia and the still silent Penelope.
And they did. All of them, knowing what he meant, they all grinned and bore it, pushing themselves harder, harder, harder. When Carus heard a splash and a cry, he was quick to assume the worst.
Whirling back toward the front though, he found something unexpected. Mida was laughing as loud as ever, though she barely held on by her crossed legs. She was holding tight to something, her face split in an almost frightening grin.
“Carus, Cassy!” She hollered. “Pull me in! I’ve got it!”
Carus hurried back to the opposite side of the ship, grabbing the mostly unaware Cassy by the wrist to roughly pull her to the front.
“Oi,” she huffed. “I was read...” Her voice trailed off at the sight. “Never mind.”
With quick hands, Cassy and Carus managed to haul the captain back onto the ship. She gripped something silver in one hand. It seemed to struggle and snap at her and Carus could see what looked like tiny teeth prints on her hand, but she didn’t seem to notice, raising the odd creature triumphantly over her head.
“What in all the known worlds is that?” Cassy asked, staring, open mouthed, at the silver creature.
Mida grinned that same grin at the petite blonde woman, hardly moving at all. “It’s a fish,” she said simply. “A fish living in the sea of a world everyone on Old Earth thought was uninhabitable. But I proved them wrong, I did!”
Cassy and Carus stared at one another, wearing identical expressions of shock.
“Wait, hold on,” said Perdix, slowing down his rowing and signaling for the others to do the same. “You’re telling me...”
“Cap was right for once,” commented Penelope, rubbing her wrists. “Well, Mida?” She asked expectantly. “What can it do?”
Mida looked so confident then, her grin never faltering, never falling, never changing as she turned it on each member of her crew.
“I have no idea!”