Mercy

The Ailu't had recreational stretches that the humans referred to as ‘Ailu't yoga’, although the literal translation was ‘soul stretching’. But it was far more than the exercises that humans did. The soul stretches were an innate collection of movements that released tension, elevated mood and brought tempestuous thoughts to a mild sprinkle of rain upon the mind. The tradition was as old as the Ailu't themselves and reflexive to their bodies. Mercy could only compare its ability to draw people together and raise their morale to humans with music. Humans were always creating rhythms and songs even as they performed the dullest of duties. Ailu't were the same with their soul stretches, they would find a way to bend their bodies to the tune of their soul wherever they were.

Mercy was stretching upon her circular mat when Ilaria arrived at her office.

She used a voice command to open the door instead of checking the intercom screen, as she was mid-flow with her stretch. Unfortunately, this meant she was not as prepared as she would have liked when her favourite walking whirlwind entered the room.

“Commander Mercy!” Ilaria gave an exaggerated salute that made a splat sound when her hand hit her forehead. “I had noticed your fine behind, you didn’t need to bend over and show it to me.”

“You have resided amongst the Ailu’t members of this crew long enough to be familiar with soul stretching, Ilaria,” Mercy reminded her sternly. She lifted her hands and dropped them behind her head as she drew her chest up, straightening her form.

“So, you didn’t summon me just to check out your butt? I feel cheated!”

“I sent for you because I wanted a clearer understanding of how you got your estimates on the course forecast.”

Ilaria’s cheerful expression soured. “They’re not estimates, the forecast is correct.”

“It wouldn’t be a forecast if you could determine the exact figures,” said Mercy. She closed her eyes, pushed her palms out to her sides and took a slow, even breath before continuing. “There are too many unknown variables because, in case you had not noticed, we have reached the great unknown. We have surpassed the boundary line of chartered space and from now until we return, nothing is certain.” She drew her heels together and shifter her centre of gravity on an out-breath.

“Why do you want me to explain my calculations? Do you not trust me?”

Mercy sighed and cracked a single eye back open. Ilaria’s heart-shaped face was pinched, her nose in the air indignantly. Mercy was sparked with the urge to squeeze her cheeks between her fingers. “Why must you fight me on every act, decision or inquiry that I make?” she asked slowly.

“Because I don’t appreciate being questioned on my work. I am the best at what I do.”

And that was exactly what was most frustrating about Ilaria - her indisputable skill.

There was a reason she had been selected as their human navigation officer; she had quite literally beaten out every other human navigation specialist on her planet for the position. The contrast between her capability and her attitude, however, regularly sent Mercy’s mind reeling. How the young woman had managed to survive under any previous chain of command was beyond her comprehension. It surely couldn’t just be on navigational skill alone. If they weren’t already plunged into deep space, beyond the territories of any inhabited planet, Mercy would have thrown the woman off The Vanguard for being a menace.

But they were traversing the unknown, and the only punishments Mercy could enact on her ship without any civilised institution within flight distance, was a promise of docked pay upon their return to Earth, or incarceration in the ship’s single prison cell.

Lacking the presence of any outside authority this far into the unknown, Mercy’s highest priority was not to secure new planets and catalogue stars as their mission statement advised, but to keep mutiny at bay for the duration of the voyage.

“I am not questioning you.” She kept her tone as gentle as possible. Ilaria was always volatile, and Mercy had yet to figure out the best way to placate her, but she still made an attempt. “I want to understand. Vita has no issue talking me through her reports.”

“I swear on my honour that I’m right.”

Mercy settled her feet flat on the mat, straightened her spine and dropped her hands to her sides. “What honour?” she asked with a grin tweaking at the corner of her mouth.

Ilaria magnified it with her own cheeky smile. “You’ve got me there. I don’t suppose you could lend me some of yours? I’ll pay you back with interest.”

“This is not a matter of honour or pride, Ilaria. Just talk me through your work and then you can return to your station.”

Ilaria’s face instantly dropped again, fury burning in her beautiful brown eyes.

“Do you make every member of the crew talk you through their daily tasks? Do the medics talk you through all of the ingrown hairs they pluck? Do you get a daily description of the state of the communal toilets by the cafeteria?”

“Ilaria, enough.”

Ilaria ran her hands through her short teal hair with obvious frustration and then scrubbed them over her undercut a few times. Mercy wondered if she was massaging some kind of stress pressure point at the joint of her neck and skull; there was still much she was unfamiliar with in terms of human anatomy. Although, as far as Mercy had been able to tell in her time both as part of the Ailu’t-Human Alliance committee and onboard The Vanguard, humans really weren’t as ‘alien’ as many believed.

Their form was very similar to the Ailu’t, if perhaps slightly smaller and squishier than the Ailu’t who served in the astrological forces. Their skin ranged from dark brown to almost translucent white, while the Ailu’t skin tone had a spectrum that started at periwinkle, ended with lavender and held what humans called ‘royal’ blue at the centre. The Ailu’t had sharper teeth and less eye colours, but their body hair was very similar - this had done a great deal for bonding amongst the humans. They had shared many braiding techniques and treatment oils between the two species since discovering each other.

“Why are you making my work harder than it needs to be?” Ilaria said with a sigh. “Do you understand how long it takes to do these calculations? Now you are asking me to start from scratch but with you over my shoulder. I am not your tutor. It’s not my job to teach you how my job works. It will take a lon-”

“You are wasting my time by bickering over something so insignificant,” Mercy snapped.

“You are wasting my time by asking me in the first place. Some of us have real work to do; you don’t see me taking yoga breaks during work hours.”

“No, but I have caught you napping at your desk on numerous occasions.”

“Has my work ever suffered from it?”

“How would I know if you won’t explain your work to me?”

“How would you know anything I explain to you? You know next to nothing about navigation - you couldn’t calculate the trajectory effects of even Earth’s gravitational pull without a computer to do it for you!”

Now Mercy’s pride had been pricked too. “You don’t know the extent of my education, officer,” she said darkly.

Ilaria laughed without humour. Laughing at her. “If it doesn’t stretch as far as basic celestial navigation, then I am scared to know!”

“Go fuck yourself, Ilaria.”

Ilaria clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head with a pout. “I didn’t hear a please, Commander Mercy,” she said childishly.

Mercy snarled, “You’ll be the one pleading if you don’t get back to your station immediately.”

Ilaria stomped out and Mercy was irritated even further by the realisation that the young woman had successfully managed to avoid explaining her calculations. She cursed Ilaria and her pretty mouth.