Ready for the Storm

Langley had never been a fashion conscious person in the same way ordinary girls were. Growing up a Stormrider, around her twin brother, and in a family that expected girls to do the same tasks the boys did, Langley never really learned about such things as dresses, and heels, and makeup. It wasn’t until the Academy that she was exposed to the feminine side of the world and even then, it was the Academy. As a result, Langley continued to keep her hair in the low ponytail typical of men and wore the baggy pants and shirts of males. The captain’s jacket was about the only thing she owned that was fitted to a female body.

So when she appeared on deck the next morning with her hair in intricate braids wrapped up and pinned on top of her head the crew had to stop and stare. There were some loose strands here and there, probably from the ensemble being slept on, but it was unmistakable. Langley was feminine.

“Not a word,” Langley growled, giving them all a ferocious glare. Someone giggled.

A couple seconds later, Crystal came bouncing out from below deck, whistling. She stopped by Langley, tilted her head, and tucked a loose strand up into the braids. Then she skipped off to the railing to say good morning to any aquatic life that might be riding near the skimmer.

“You look very nice today Captain,” Ajiin said carefully, “I’ve got our course charted. Would you like to take a look?”

And the two departed for the helm. Behind them, the crew barely managed to hold back the snickers until Langley was out of earshot.

The hair held together for another day before the braids started coming unraveled completely. Then, from the washings it had received and then the subsequent drying, Langley’s brown hair was as poofy as cotton candy. Crystal was forced to intervene once more, and after a bit of brushing managed to tame it down to a manageable mass – still curly – but manageable. Langley was also informed that she was not to put it back into a braid or ponytail, as the curls made her look adorable.

“I’m not supposed to be adorable,” Langley said that afternoon, leaning on the railing. Sparrow was beside her. He didn’t speak which made him an excellent listener. Besides, he needed a break from the helm and her brother had volunteered to take the wheel. “I’m a captain. I’m supposed to be mean and tough. Not floofy and cute.”

Sparrow didn’t reply but instead leaned out over the rail and squinted. Langley aborted what she was going to complain about next. Skiridians had better eyesight than humans so if something was out there he’d see it before any of them.

“Ship,” he said, and seconds later the cry was echoed by the lookout up on top deck.

Langley whirled and without another word sprinted to the helm, then up the ladder to the top deck. She pulled her brass telescope out of her pouch and unfolded it. Sure enough, there was a speck of shine on the horizon with the white triangles of sails. Langley watched them for a moment.

“Sparrow!” she called and gestured for him to join them on the top deck. He did so, but not in the same manner she had used to get there. Instead, he scrambled up the side of the helm, using his wings to simply propel him in a running climb. Langley passed the telescope off to him.

“Can you tell their course?” she asked.

A pause. Sometimes Langley wondered if his lack of speaking was because he had difficulty finding words. “It’ll pass close by us.”

“Any markings?”

“No.”

“Keep me posted, I’m going to the wheel.”

She slipped back down the ladder and into the helm where her brother was.

“Ship heading our way,” she said, turning to regard the chart on the table behind him, “No markings. I’ve got Sparrow up there watching it.”

“Right. Should we sound the alarm yet?”

“Not yet. We’re still too close to Alannis territory for pirates to be a problem. Are sails at full?”

“Of course.”

“Raise engine speed then. We’ll intersect at here,” she pointed to the map, “unless we get further along our course, at which point we won’t meet them at all.”

“Right.”

The ship around them shuddered a bit and then eased into its new speed. Langley continued staring at the map. After about ten minutes the lookout called down to them.

“Target is changing course. Looks like it’s setting to intercept.”

“Hell,” Langley swore, “Any markings?”

“None!”

“Unmarked Cadre ship, pirates, curious freelancer,” Sabreur said, ticking off the possibilities.

Langley winced. There was a sharp jab, like a needle at the back of her neck. Muttering under her breath, she pulled a piece of piano string.

“Or someone trying to get a ‘mancer into relay range.”

The connection was easy to make. The requesting ‘mancer was the one who had to do all the work, all Langley had to do was let her mental barriers slip a fraction of a hair.

“Skimmer Side Ree, captained by Janoas Marc, no hostile intentions.”

The voice was that of a male. Langley had redirected the relay from her personal mind to the space between Sabreur and her, so that they both could hear it.

“Skimmer Langley’s Ark, captained by Langley Stormrider, no hostile intentions,” she replied.

“Stormrider! Ach, guess I don’t need to warn you then.”

Langley and Sabreur exchanged glances.

“Warn us about what?” she asked tersely.

“Oh, you don’t know?” The voice sounded surprised. “The Storm Guard has been warning ships away from the northern coasts for the coming weeks. Something about strange weather patterns. We’ve just come from that area and are helping to spread the word.”

“Okay, for future reference,” Langley said, “Stormriders don’t have a telepathic link with each other, no matter what the stories you hear say. And thank you for the warning.”

“Righto. Just doing my bit to help. Good winds to you, Langley’s Ark.”

“And to you, Side Ree.”

She let go of the piano wire and broke the relay. Sighed. Went to adjust her hat and remembered that it wasn’t there.

“Strange weather patterns,” Sabreur mused, “Think it’s true?”

“With our family? Who knows.”

She pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.

“Business has been bad for everyone, I’m guessing, so they could be driving away the non-Stormrider captains to give family a chance to recuperate.”

The voice of the lookout wafted down to them. “It’s changing courses Captain, moving away from us. Headed south-east.”

Langley tapped the table with one finger and stared at the map.

“We could find out,” Sabreur suggested carefully.

“Not contacting the Storm Guard.”

“Langley, it’ll be okay if they know we’re coming…”

She looked up at him.

“And what happened last time we did that?”

He paused, leaned back against the wheel, and thought.

“Let’s see… Mom and dad informed our aunts and uncles and we had about forty people there to greet us when we reached dock.”

“Including aunt Magret and her psychotic children that stole my hat, stole Ajiin’s smokes, and told the entire crew that one story about the skinny-dipping.”

“Well, I told you that was a bad idea to begin with,” Sabreur said mildly.

“Shut up. I was eight. Anyways, do you really want a family reunion this time we go home? Or just a quiet time to visit our parents without the hassle of having swarms of little cousins to step on?”

“But if it’s a storm…”

“Aren’t due for another month or so. Besides, we’ve weathered them out before in open seas. We’ll stick to the original plan and be fine. There is no cargo so we’re running light as is. If a storm blows in we’ll outrun it or raise altitude and outlast it. Alright?”

He scratched his beard.

“Fine. Can we at least assume that this isn’t a Stormrider ploy though, and have the lookout keep an eye on the weather until we reach dock?”

Langley nodded. Her twin left the wheel and climbed up to the top deck to talk to the lookout. A few seconds later, Sparrow dropped through and gravitated over to the wheel, like a moth to flame. Langley sighed and let him take over again. She’d just make sure his next relief was longer than normal.

“Keep the current course,” she told him, “I’m going below to see about getting rid of this mess of curl.”

She pawed at her hair. As she reached the door, she heard Sparrow say something.

“It does look pretty though.”

“I’m not supposed to be cute..!” Langley growled, and her fingers still tangled in her hair, stalked off in the direction of her cabin.

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