Shipboard 15&16

Ryan’s transfer went as smoothly as could be expected, when a human transferred onto a ship full of alien snakes. He was just glad his thing was tight spaces and not things that crawled and slithered.
The moment he stepped off the transport, he was surrounded by waist-high snakes, all of which dragged themselves along the floor using the four limbs on their upper torso.
The creatures stopped a pace in front of him before looking up with their long, elongated faces, tongues flicking out at him as they just- stared. Even he found it a bit unnerving, and he didn’t mind snakes.
Someone clapped their hands, and the sea of snake men parted for an altogether different creature. She was tall, twice his height, and, unlike the creatures who had first greeted him, moved upright, swaying hypnotically this way and that.
Her bottom threequarters were a long, powerful, serpentine tail of a shimmering sapphire, but from that point upward, she could almost pass for human.
The extra arms ruined the illusion, of course, but everything else was nearly identical, from the long, raven hair that hung down her back to the tight skin of her bare midriff and the delicate features of her face.
She stopped and lowered herself down to his eye level, reaching out and cupping his hand between the two on her right, her skin cool against his, and drew his fingers to her lips.
“An honna to receive you, suh,” she said, the translator imparting a distinct southern drawl to her speech.
“Uh,” Ryan said, suddenly tongue-tied, “thanks. I’m Ryan- Lieutenant Ryan Mateo.”
She graced him with a demure smile. “Captain Seselan Jerevine,” she said, bowing her head.
To his side, one of the snake creatures inched forward, its own arms stretching toward him, but before they could touch, his host’s tail lashed out like a bullwhip, striking the outstretched hand. She rounded on the snake man, shouting, “Now y'all cut that out!”
Ryan blinked, stunned by the sudden shift in tone, and reached out as the creature shrank back. “Was that necessary?”
She pursed her lips, thinking, and then smiled. “Soft-hearted, ahe we? This’n’s sorry, she forgot y'all was a man. How would yall feel about being eaten?”
He took a step back, suddenly nervous. “I wouldn’t like it.”
She smiled, stroking his hand and tugging him closer. “Then This’n would stay close, ‘til them boys learn. Things tend to end up in their mouths when they get curious.”
He glanced at the still staring snakes all around him, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Is that so?”
The serpentine woman chuckled, pulling him to her side and wrapping two slender arms over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, sugah, This’n’ll take good care ah you, and if there ahe any accidents, they ain’t got no teeth to chew on ya, so kick hard, and they’ll spit ya out… probably.”
He squirmed closer to the woman; he couldn’t think of anything worse.
Her arms gave him a squeeze. “They’he harmless, once they know where the limits ahe. Speakin’ of.” She turned, guiding him toward the bay door. “This’n needs y’all to make sure ya keep things tidy. Those boys get impacted, ya see. They’re not smart enough to tell us what’s wrong, and there’s too many to keep track of every colon.”
He nodded, placing a hand on her side to steady himself, and was shocked by how soft her hide felt. He rubbed her snake body, just below the point she became a woman and was amazed to see that what he’d taken for scales were actually small feathers of vibrant blue.
She chuckled at him. “Feelin’ forward, sugah?”
He jerked his hand back, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
She tossed her head back in a rich, throaty laugh. “Ya ain't gotta be sorry. This’n don’t mind; figure y’all folks must find us strange.”
“No!” Ryan protested. “You’re not strange, you’re,” he paused, scratching the bridge of his nose, “interesting, fascinating, not strange.”
“Well, ain’t you a charmah,” she said, smiling down at him.
She led him on through the halls, stopping in front of one of the doors. “The men eat in the canteen,” she said. “But you ain’t no worker drone, so you’ll eat here in th’ card room.”
She worked a panel by the door and slithered through ahead of him. “Ladies,” she called. “Ouah guest has arrived.”
The ladies were a collection of snake women whose vibrant tails contrasted against distinctly human skin tones.
A red-tailed woman, whose human torso was a deep chocolate brown, rose from her spot at one of the tables and slithered over.
“Well, well,” she said, lowering herself to his eye level. “Ah wasn’t expectin’ my apprentice to be such a treat.”
She slipped past him, winding her serpentine bulk around him, and he immediately began to panic.
He shouted, thrashing and punching out blindly.
The woman's weight retreated, and he backed himself up against the door, gasping for breath, casting wide-eyed around the room.
Seselan had drawn herself up to full height, looming over the red-tailed woman. “What did you do ta him?” She demanded.
The other woman shrunk back, eyes downcast. “Th- This’n- don’t think she did anythin’, ma’am.”
“Wait!” Ryan cried, holding up his hands. “Wait, please.”
The women turned, and Seselan lowered herself down, slithering over and cupping each of his hands in two of hers. “Don’t chyall worry, This’n’ll take care of her.”
“No, wait, it’s not her fault; it’s me,” he sighed; it was embarrassing to talk about; he knew it wasn’t fair, but he always felt a little silly.
“I- I have this thing with confined spaces; she just surprised me, that’s all.”
Seselan frowned, and the red-tailed woman slithered over, gently laying a hand on his arm. “This’n’s sorry, honey,” she said softly, “she didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry I- well, for all of that. I didn’t hurt you?”
“Ahw, that weren’t nuthin’,” the woman said, smiling. “This’n’s sure thankful yer worried about her. But she’s made of sterner stuff than that.”
He nodded. “Thanks, miss, uh-”
“Oh, where have my manners gone?” the woman said, aghast, “Escena Salinity, at your humble service. Mr?”
“Lieutenant Ryan Mateo,” he said, offering his hand to shake, “ma’am.”
“Ryan, what a lovely name,” she said, taking his hand and, like her superior, drawing it to her lips.
Apparently, he wouldn’t get a handshake, so he tugged her hands back his way and pressed a kiss to her fingertips.
She laughed, the sound musical. “What a chahmin’ little man you ahe.”
He smiled, and Seselan cleared her throat. “Alright,” she said. “This’n’s sure our guest is hungry after his travels. Why don’t we finish our introductions ovah dinneh?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the dark-skinned woman said, pulling away from him. She took his hands, guiding him over to the dining table.


                                                                          ------


Nazarene walked through the halls of her ship, moving as quickly as the dignity of her station allowed. It was dinner time, or soon would be, and if she didn’t hurry, she would be late.
She wasn’t worried about missing the meal, of course. No one would eat until she was seated and served. Not because they couldn’t, but because she kept on good terms with her captain.
She was the highest-ranking officer aboard, but she was merely embarked, a guest. The Captain answered to her, but only in so far as all Captains in her fleet did.
Still, while he wouldn’t begin the meal without her, there were enough reasons for dissatisfaction aboard ship and no reason to invite more.
So she walked as quickly as dignity allowed. She was always doing so, it seemed, the demands of her command constantly threatening to overwhelm her capacity.
But it wasn’t as though she hadn’t volunteered, so she couldn’t complain. Well, not too loudly.
She entered the officer’s dining hall, a long, wide room set with rows of tables. Every officer aboard was required to attend, and so needed to be accommodated. Not just the naval officers, the Liberty’s Voice housed dozens of armies, an airforce more than equivalent to the total global aviation of twenty-first-century Earth, ten marine divisions, and, of course, the fleet elements berthed aboard. Though that last was a special case; those officers took their meals aboard their own ships.
The Captain spotted her coming through the door and stood, both because of her rank and because she was a woman. Another, lesser, woman might have been offended at the gesture.
But she found it charming, and as she strode through the hall, and the Captain’s gesture rippled outward with men and a few women coming to their feet, she smiled, nodding to the room.
She stopped in front of the Captain's table, and the man came to attention, saluting, his people following suit.
“At ease,” she said, returning the courtesy.
The man relaxed, and she stepped around the table, allowing the Captain to seat her, the rest of the room following her into their own seats.
“Thank you, Captain Perkins,” she said as they were served. He bowed his head, and they began to eat, listening to the low murmur of conversation in the room.
“You’re usually here earlier, Ma’am,” Perkins said.
“I kept you waiting?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Just noticed it. I received your orders; back to dock? Did that have something to do with it?
“Later,” she said, “privately.”
He nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”
They spent the rest of the meal in silence, and when the Captain stood, signaling the end of the meal, she stood with him.
“Captain,” she said.
He turned. “Ma’am?”
“Not tonight; I’m busy. Please arrange for us to be served privately in my stateroom, say, in two days.”
“Yes, Ma’am, of course, ma’am,” he said. 
“Thank you, good night, Captain.”

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