Remi ignored his cabin’s hatch chime when it buzzed. He ignored it the second time it rang a minute later. And the third time. The fourth time, the hatch slid open on its own, revealing Isi standing on the other side clutching a bottle. He immediately raised his hands skyward when the purser spotted the weapon pointed directly at his chest.

“Cap’n, I just came to talk, I swear,” he said in a rush.

The pirate glared, motioning him inside with the pistol’s barrel. Isi obeyed, seating himself across from his captain.

“Why are you here?” Remi demanded.

“Things got a little tense,” he said affably. “I was hoping maybe we could talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” he fired back. “My crew turned against me.”

“No, we haven’t, boss,” Isi replied. “We just didn’t want to see you toss Genvass out the airlock.” He held up the bottle. “Been saving this for a special occasion. It’s the good stuff, I swear.” He glanced around the cabin and spotted some glasses nearby, reaching over and grabbing a pair before cracking the bottle open. He poured two fingers’ worth of spirits into each of them, sliding one across the table.

Remi eyed the proffered glass before looking back up at the purser. “You first,” he said, the distrust obvious in his voice.

Isi shrugged affably as he raised the glass. “Na zdorovie,” he toasted, before tossing back the drink. “Ahh… smooth,” he grinned.

The glass remained untouched as Remi watched and waited until the purser sighed. “It’s not poisoned, captain,” he said carefully. “I wouldn’t do that, and besides, it’d be a waste of good hooch.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, he picked up the glass and took a tentative sip. “Not bad,” he admitted, before taking another. As the liquid fire played over his tongue, Remi finally relented, laying his sidearm down on the table, yet keeping it handy just in case.

Pouring himself another, Isi settled in. “Can I ask you something, captain?”

Sipping his drink, Remi gave him a nod. “That mission to Earth… would you really have tossed Maggie out the airlock?”

The glass froze. “What do you think?” he snapped.

“Honestly?” Isi scratched his cheek. “You two were like oil and water from day one. I think she actually enjoys getting under people’s skin. If it weren’t for the fact she knew her business backward and forward, it’d be easy to pay her no mind, but that didn’t make her one bit less irritating. And that temper.” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Maggie’s one of those people you’re gonna love or hate. Nothing in between.”

Remi snorted as he took another sip. “You’re a hard man to read sometimes,” Isi continued, “but I don’t think you would have done it. Maybe throw her into the airlock and reduced the pressure to give her a scare, but actually spacing her?” He shook his head before meeting his captain’s gaze. “No, I don’t think you would have taken it that far.”

Polishing off his drink, Remi held out his glass for a refill. The purser happily complied. “If you truly believe that,” he asked, “then explain to me what the hell just happened back there.”

“Like I said, you’re hard to read,” the purser shrugged. “Last time, Maggie was the key to the mission’s success. That’s the reason I think you were… well, not bluffing, exactly, but maybe leading her on a bit. This time? Genvass finding out about our Eleexx friend actually threatens the mission, which puts a different spin on things. None of us were sure what you were going to do.”

“And if I had spaced him?” Remi asked, point blank. “What would you and the others have done then?”

“Ah, hell,” he sighed, “I don’t know. It wouldn’t have gone over well, I can tell you that much. Might have even had some of the others looking to transfer to another boat.”

“But not you,” the captain stated.

“No… not me.” Isi agreed.

“Why?” Remi pressed.

Isi leaned back in his chair, regarding him. “You’re a hard man, captain,” he said finally, “but when you think about what life is like for us Terrans, you realize it takes a hard man to survive out here. Harder still to lead others. We get by on our own, cause no one will lift a finger to help us.” He paused for a moment, considering that. “Though I guess that’s changing now, what with the Alliance and all.”

“Get to the point,” the captain snapped.

The purser shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m guessing you already know what I’m going to say.”

“I suspect I do,” Remi said darkly, “but I want to hear you actually say it.”

Reaching for the bottle, Isi topped off both drinks before setting it aside. “Because of Aesir,” he said quietly.

Something about the man hardened at the name. “And there it is,” he said at last. “I’ve spent the better part of twenty years with that draped around my neck, and every time I think I’ve finally put it behind me, someone always comes around and reminds me.” He took a long pull at his glass, his eyes staring hard at something only he could see. “... like I needed a reminder,” he muttered.

“Cap’n, everybody respects what you did,” the purser said in a rush. “It was a hard choice, sure, but…”

“... but what?” Remi snapped, interrupting him.

Sighing, Isi tried again. “You did what you had to do,” he said gently, “and no one faults you for it. A lot of folks wouldn’t have had the guts to make the hard call.”

The captain slowly turned to face him. “Do you even know what went down that day?” he challenged him. “Did Xuilan say something?”

He held up his hands in self-defense. “She didn’t say a word, Cap’n. Honest.”

Remi snorted in disbelief. “There’s maybe a handful of people who know what happened… what really happened… so unless someone’s been talking out of school,” he said pointedly, “whatever it is you think you know is nothing but rumors.” He glared at the other man, daring him to disagree.

Isi refused to take the bait. “I expect that’s true,” he admitted. “I’m sure there’s plenty of details the reports get wrong.” He reached once again for the bottle and freshened both glasses. “But the stories all agree that Aesir suffered a catastrophic engine failure, rupturing the hull, and that you were the one who saved the crew.” He peered intently at him, searching for a sign he’d gone too far.

Remi reached for his drink, draining it in a single go and then grabbing the bottle to fill his glass once more, while Isi watched him with growing disquiet. “Yeah, that’s what happened, all right,” he snorted, a nervous tic twitching his cheek. “Went down just like they say.”

There was a pregnant pause, as both men waited to see how the other would respond, until Remi finally leaned back in his chair, his eyes dark and impenetrable beneath his furrowed brow. “Course, that doesn’t tell the whole story,” he said bitterly.

His subordinate said nothing in return, waiting instead for his captain to continue.

Staring into his glass, Remi finally spoke. “Aesir was way past her prime,” he said quietly, his mind’s eye drifting back to that day. “Grav plating was going, and everything else was held together with spit, baling wire, and prayer. We were searching for a replacement, not to mention making plans to split up the ship’s complement if we couldn’t find one in time.” He took another drink before shaking his head. “But ships were expensive, and we didn’t have the credits. So we made do, like we always did. No one was keen to take on strays either, 'cause they all had their own problems.”

Isi simply nodded. Given what he already knew, it didn’t take a genius to see where this was headed.

“I was the youngest and most inexperienced Bridge officer aboard Aesir, and it was my first watch in the big chair,” he reminisced, his thoughts stretching back through space and time. “Being assigned ‘Officer of the Deck’ was a symbol of trust, and I was determined to prove I’d earned my place. Captain Lakshmi, she was damn good, and I knew she’d taken a big chance on me. I memorized everything there was to know about standing watch, and I was going to make sure I didn’t let her down.”

His expression grew distant as he whispered, “Two hours into Mid Watch, the primary drive’s plasma intake manifold ruptured. There were half a dozen people in Engineering, some of the most experienced Tinkers aboard. They died instantly.”

Taking another sip, Isi said nothing. What he knew of the Aesir disaster was all secondhand, little better than gossip, really. Besides, the last thing in the universe he wanted to do was interrupt his captain. Something told him he’d been sitting on this for a long time, never able to speak of it until now.

“My console lit up like a supernova the second it fractured,” he continued, “while the radiation alarms started screaming like banshees. Primary systems began crashing, one after the other, and as I stared at the warning lights and error messages in sick horror, I knew.” Remi’s eyes seemed to come back into focus as he looked across the table. “Aesir was dead… and unless I acted quickly, so was everyone on board.”

“What did you do?” Isi prompted him, speaking up at last.

“We had to evacuate,” he said simply. “As long as the hull still held, we had a brief reprieve, but the clock was ticking. We put out a general distress call to all available ships requesting assistance, but we didn’t know if they could get to us in time. I tried to locate Captain Lakshmi… or anyone senior… but with all the systems malfunctions, intercoms were spotty. I had to send runners to pass the word to abandon ship.”

He reached for the bottle. “One of them staggered back to the Bridge with a re-breather clamped over her face. She said the plasma conduits had overloaded and were fracturing the hull, and worse… that we had people trapped waiting to be rescued.” He shook his head, wincing at the memory.

“And once you started losing oxygen…” Isi said slowly.

Remi nodded grimly. “I had to make the call. The regs were clear; in case of a hull breach that threatens the ship’s integrity, you sealed off the damaged sections and concentrated the survivors where the hull was still intact.” He paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “Even if that meant leaving people behind.”

Isi sighed. “There was nothing you could have done, Cap’n. Like you said, the regs didn’t give you a choice.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Remi snarled, his sudden vehemence catching the purser off guard. “We had to vacate the radiated sections, and we grabbed as many as we could and took them to safety, but there were so many. So many,” he whispered. “If you put your hand on the bulkheads, you could feel them pounding away, begging for help.” He made a fist and began banging it against the table: three quick taps, three longer ones, then three more shorts. Over and over.

S.O.S.

“When I close my eyes, I can still hear them pounding,” he said hoarsely. “No one senior ever made it to the Bridge, so it was all on me. I made the call. Me.” He stared into his glass, looking for answers. “Captain Lakshmi was in one of those compartments,” he said quietly, “... and so were my parents.”

The purser bowed his head in respect. He’d known going in the story was brutal, assuming his captain opened up to him about it at all, but this was far worse than the scuttlebutt had ever let on. “How old were you?” he asked softly.

“... seventeen,” Remi answered, polishing off his glass. “When the rescue ships arrived, we pulled out the ones we could save. We offloaded two hundred and forty-three survivors before Aesir finally went up.” He gave a half-hearted shrug. “With that much damage, it was only a matter of time.”

“That’s two hundred and forty-three people who owe you their lives, boss,” Isi said with respect. “If there’s any good that can come from that, I mean.”

“And the one hundred seventy-nine who didn’t make it off?” he demanded. “What about them?”

“Cap’n, the instant that manifold ruptured, your hands were tied,” the purser said as gently as he could manage. “Their fates had already been decided.”

“Bullshit,” Remi snarled. “I could have ordered all hands to focus on rescue efforts. I could have turned over the watch to the Bosun and led a Damage Control party myself. I could have…”

“... and if you had,” Isi interrupted, “just how many of those people you saved would be dead now?” he asked pointedly.

He froze for a moment as the question registered. “I don’t know,” he said at last, reaching for the bottle.

Isi shook his head in resignation. “Boss, you know even better than I do why those protocols exist.”

“‘Safety regulations are written in blood’,” Remi replied. “And yes, I’m well aware of why they exist. Doesn’t matter. I followed the rules, and people died. And no matter how many of the well-intentioned pat me on the back and say what an incredible job I did, that will never change.” He glared at his subordinate, daring him to disagree.

“And what do you suppose would have happened if you had done any of that?” he fired back, picking up the gauntlet. “If you’d abandoned your post in the middle of a crisis to rescue them yourself? Turned over command to someone even less qualified than you were? Assuming you survived… which, being honest, would have been a goddamn miracle… they would have cashiered you on the spot for disobeying regs.”

“You think I care?” Remi fired back. “After losing people that meant something to me, you think I give a fuck about any of that?” He stared into his glass, relieving the moment yet again.

“No,” Isi said honestly. “Cap’n, that ship was two hundred years old, on its last legs, patched up with whatever they could scrounge a thousand times over. If the Tinkers who knew her best couldn’t prevent it from happening, how could you?” He raised his hand, forestalling his commander as he started to reply. “You couldn’t,” he continued, rising to his feet, taking a moment to steady himself, “but there’s something that you can do.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Remi said sarcastically.

The purser’s face softened. “You could forgive yourself,” he said gently, before seeing himself out.