Last Stand (Stag Privateers Book 1)

his comment for too long, because the captain cleared his throat and continued. “I suppose if you're bored, you could use one of the full immersion hookups.”
To Lana's surprise, she spoke up without even thinking. “I suppose if I do end up staying, I should start acting like a member of the crew, right? Is there something I should be doing to help out?”
Aiden blinked at the unexpected offer, although he seemed pleased. “There's plenty of things you could do. But why not kill three birds with one stone?” At her blank, somewhat unnerved look he cleared his throat. “It's an idiom. It means to accomplish multiple goals with one task.”
Ah. She was just glad it didn't involve killing any birds. “Okay.”
He pointed at his companion. “Ali's still busy going through the data we got off the Fleetfoot. Why don't you help her with that? It'll give you an opportunity to help out, and a chance to learn how to parse data and use some of the ship's systems, which are useful skills.”
He paused, giving her a significant look. “Most importantly, it'll let you see the Deek records for yourself, learn everything they can tell you about who you are and where you came from. You might even discover something Ali missed.”
The flawlessly beautiful woman made a polite noise, as if indicating that wasn't possible.
Still, it was a good suggestion, one that very much appealed to Lana. “All right. I'll get started whenever Ali's ready.”
Aiden nodded and stood. “All right. Go ahead and finish up your, ah, food, first.” He walked out, leaving her with the companion.
Lana took her cue from Dax and wolfed down the rest of her unappetizing meal, then tossed the can in the waste bin where the young man had put his. Ali waited patiently, then led the way through a different doorway Lana hadn't explored before, down a narrow corridor lined with small open hatches leading to tiny spherical chambers.
“Escape pods,” the companion explained. “This is the most convenient location on the ship from which to evacuate the crew in an emergency. I'll explain safety procedures for evacuation, and other emergencies we might encounter, as we work.”
The possibility of having to evacuate didn't sound promising, and just reinforced that staying on the ship could be dangerous. “Where are we going?” Lana asked to get her mind off those unpleasant thoughts.
“The bridge. We might as well work there, since aside from Dax on duty planning rift jumps everyone else will be having downtime right now. And it'll give me a chance to show you around there, introduce you to the various workstations and give you at least an idea of what you'd be doing if you were assigned to any particular role aboard the ship.”
She had to admit it did sound fun to visit the bridge. From reading the captain's logs she'd picked up that it was where most of the ship's operations that could be done remotely, which was pretty much everything but repairs and emergency procedures, were handled. Which meant most crew, including her possibly, spent a lot of time there.
Aside from Belix, judging by what the elfin woman had said.
“By the way,” the companion said gently as they walked. “You'd have no basis for knowing the proper social etiquette about this, but when somebody saves your life or rescues you from slavery, then offers you food and shelter and a job aboard his ship, the proper response is gratitude.”
Lana stiffened, offended. “I am grateful!” she protested. Or, well, aside from suspecting the captain of this ship of actually being a slaver trying to trick her, which didn't seem all that grateful.
Ali briefly paused to pat her shoulder soothingly. “Then it would be polite to tell him so. Humans aren't as good at reading nonverbal cues as I am. Also, everyone likes to be acknowledged for the good things they do.”
The bridge turned out to be a decent sized room, filled with half a dozen workstations in a semicircle around a huge holographic display of the ship and the space around it in the center. Other, less elaborate stations ringed the room along the walls, many no more than a chair with an attached terminal that could be moved around so multiple people could collaborate. They crowded for space with lockers, emergency equipment, display readouts, and other items and equipment that might be needed at some point during bridge operations.
There were no windows to be seen, which meant the main display was the only way of navigating. She wasn't sure if that was normal, so she decided to ask about it. “What if the display goes down? How do you see?”
Instead of Ali, it was Dax at one of the workstations, the only person there other than them, who answered, voice as clipped and precise as ever. “Each station has a smaller display that can be used for that purpose, and the pilot's chair also has a proximity alert and blind man's instrument if we lose all systems.”
The companion nodded. “It's a potential vulnerability, but it can't be helped; the Last Stand is a light combat cruiser, built for battle. Since the bridge is potentially the most vulnerable place on the ship, because most of the crew will be gathered here during combat, it needs to be in the safest place. That's the middle of the ship, with thick bulkheads and other rooms on all sides.”
“So if it did have windows, they'd be looking into the facilities or crew cabins or galley, which would be bad for morale,” the weapons officer added. Since his tone remained even and inflectionless Lana couldn't tell if he was joking, although Ali laughed.
“Come on,” the companion said, leading her to a workstation on the other side of the semicircle from Dax's. “Let's get to work.
* * * * *
Lana spent the next day either on the bridge working with Ali, in the galley or facilities tending to her bodily needs, or sleeping.
To her disappointment, the Fleetfoot's records had