Ultima Ratio

Chapter 43: Sea Party

For the next few days, no one mentioned anything about what happened on that road to Venice. The only time Akira ever brought it up was during the debrief immediately after their return to the Crusader, and even that had been a vague recount of the events. There was no need to go into further detail, not when she could still taste the scent of iron in the air and hear the squelching of pulverized flesh amidst crunching bones.

If the others felt similarly, Akira didn't see them enough to know. The six of them may have shared a berthing space on the ship, but that meant nothing if everyone seemed intent on avoiding each other. Akira actually encountered Quyen the most, and only because all of the guardian's free time was spent in the gym.

When Sam had a day off half a week later, he cornered Akira in the mess at five in the morning and didn't waste any time questioning her about the stark change.

"For the record, I'm asking because I care about all of you," he said as Akira nibbled on dry cornbread leftover from the night before.

Akira wasn't convinced. "So it's not just because you're not getting any action?"

At least Sam had the decency to act offended. "Absolutely not! What kind of person do you think I am?"

"The kind that's physically frustrated. And if you're really as genuine as you claim to be, what's Quyen's last name?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but after no sound magically appeared, he frowned. "I know this. I really do."

"You care about all of us, huh?"

"It's not my fault she doesn't wear her uniform to the gym!" he said, then stole the rest of Akira's cornbread when she ignored him, only to cringe at its parched texture. "Gross. Anyway, I don't care what you say. I'm going to do something about this, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Akira shrugged as she focused on cleaning up the crumbs of her snack. "Wasn't planning to."

Since her words were somewhat of a blessing, Akira shouldn't have been surprised when she heard strange rumors circulating the ship a couple hours later: there was a party that evening on the Crusader's aft topside deck, and everyone not on watch was invited. The impromptu event was even approved by the ship's command; evidently, Sergeant Sam worked his charm. With nothing better to do, Akira went.

As a gathering on a military vessel amidst a war, it was a tame event, but the attendees were still boisterous at the rare opportunity to socialize. Strings of work lights were laced around the deck rails as the primary decor, interspersed with country flags belonging to various crew members. The cooks had set up a few tables with snacks against the aft wall of the bridge, and someone even went through the effort of carrying up the beverage dispensers, each filled with non-alcoholic juice.

Music hummed over the ship's announcing system in multiple languages, and since it couldn't be too loud, the sailors took the liberty of amplifying their favorite tunes with their own voices. While a few of the senior personnel in attendance said it was nothing like the drunken hijinks they would partake in prior to the war, even they admitted it was better than nothing.

Normally, Akira was accustomed to the social scene, having grown up observing her mom mingle with the top brass on multiple occasions. On her own, Akira had quickly learned that even the most casual gatherings were venues of opportunity, and being personable to the lowest ranks was just as important as being recognizable to her superiors. Thus, she always made a point to join in on festivities, whether they be official holiday formals or illicit rounds of beer pong in the barracks.

But considering recent events, that night felt different, and Akira couldn't seem to muster up her party spirit. After about ten minutes of bouncing between conversations, she found herself scanning the crowd for some sort of escape.