You're it...for now

Posted on Mon Jan 19th, 2026 @ 7:44pm by Captain Zedd Sykes & Senior Flight Officer Cormus

929 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Acquisitions & Contracts
Location: Main Shuttle Bay, Deck 4
Timeline: Date 2380-01-04 at 0800

Zedd found Cormus in the shuttlebay, the young pilot already up to his elbows in one of the Type-11s. The bay lights reflected off the sleek hulls, throwing soft highlights along the curve of the shuttle’s nose, and the faint smell of plasma coolant and fresh lubricant hung in the air. Cormus had the access panel open on the impulse drive, tricorder balanced awkwardly against the lip of the housing and a spanner clenched in his other hand, humming some half-remembered tune under his breath. It was off-key, but enthusiastic.

Zedd leaned against the bulkhead near the ramp, arms crossed, watching for a moment. He let the hum of the bay stretch between them before speaking.

“You always work this early,” he said dryly, “or is the Dutchman just that exciting?”

Cormus startled slightly, then looked up, smearing a line of grease across his forehead as he wiped sweat away with the back of his sleeve. A grin spread across his face when he saw who it was.

“Morning, Captain. Or whatever passes for morning when you don’t have windows.” He glanced back into the open panel. “Couldn’t sleep. New ship jitters, I guess. Plus this one was out of alignment by point-three percent.” He tapped the manifold lightly with the spanner. “Nothing catastrophic, but it would’ve bugged me if I left it alone.”

Zedd pushed off the wall and stepped closer, eyes flicking briefly to the exposed components. “You catch things like that before they turn into problems. That’s a good habit.”

Cormus’s grin softened into something quieter and a little prouder. “I try. Ships talk, you know. You just have to listen long enough.”

Zedd let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “We’re going to need people who listen.”

That caught Cormus’s attention. He set the spanner down carefully and straightened, curiosity sparking in his hazel eyes. “That sounds like there’s news. The serious kind.”

“There is.” Zedd glanced around the bay. It was empty except for the two of them and the low, steady hum of Workerbees docked along the wall. Then he met Cormus’s gaze again. “The crew’s coming together faster than I expected. Lindsy’s settled into astrometrics. Mei-Lin has already half-claimed engineering as her personal kingdom. I picked up a few maintenance bots to keep us from drowning in routine work.”

Cormus nodded along. “Sounds like a solid start.”

“It is,” Zedd agreed. “But there’s a gap. Right now, we don’t have a dedicated helmsman.”

Cormus blinked once, then again. The silence hung there for a beat before his grin returned, slower this time and more cautious.

“So,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “you’re telling me this because…?”

“Because you’re the best pilot we’ve got aboard,” Zedd said. “And the Dutchman needs someone at the conn who actually knows how to handle her. Not just point and go, but real control. I’m not handing out permanent titles yet. We’ll find someone long-term when the right person comes along. Until then, the helm is yours.”

Cormus let out a low whistle and ran a hand through his hair. “Primary helm?”

“Primary helm,” Zedd confirmed. “Flight control, navigation interface, evasive maneuvers when things get messy. You’ll be in the big chair more often than not.”

The excitement was obvious, but it never tipped into recklessness. Cormus nodded slowly instead. “I can do that. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you’d say that.” He chuckled under his breath. “I ran a few sims last night, just to get a feel for her. She’s responsive. Tight. A little twitchy on the roll, but I can compensate.”

Zedd’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. “I figured you’d already been poking around.”

“Purely professional curiosity,” Cormus said, holding up his hands.

“Of course.” Zedd paused, then continued. “You’ll also be auxiliary on the shuttles and runabout. If we need a hot extraction, a scout run, or anything that requires threading a needle through a debris field, I want you flying. Not waiting on someone else to warm up.”

Cormus laughed softly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Primary helm, auxiliary pilot, occasional shuttle jockey. That’s a lot of hats.”

“We’re lean,” Zedd said. “That means everyone wears more than one.”

Cormus nodded again, firmer this time. “I can live with that. Keeps things interesting. And for what it’s worth, I won’t screw this up.”

Zedd stepped closer and clapped him once on the shoulder, solid and reassuring. “I know. You prove you can handle the conn the way you handle these Type-11s, and when we expand, we’ll talk about making it official.”

Cormus met his eyes. The boyish energy settled into something steadier. “You won’t regret it, Zedd. She’ll fly like she was born to.”

Zedd nodded once. “Get her prepped for a test run once Mei-Lin gives the all-clear on the core. Lindsy’s plotted a few local routes we can shake down. Nothing fancy. Just enough to feel how she moves with a real pilot at the stick.”

Cormus was already turning back to the open panel. “Say no more. I’ll have her purring by lunch.”

Zedd headed for the bay doors, then paused. “And Cormus?”

Cormus glanced back. “Yeah?”

“Nice catch on the manifold.”

Cormus’s smile widened. “Thanks, Captain.”

The doors hissed shut behind Zedd as Cormus took a moment to contemplate his new responsibilities...

 

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