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𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
LOCATION:
The Ark—Hanger #3
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Coordinates:
40º 19' 10.5168" N
73º 8' 31.0416" W
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-Eighteen Years Later-
It was pointless, utterly pointless as Delilah had continued to twist her wrench to tighten the bolt—This, as she discovered, was the best way to disperse her anger.
The Council would never allow this to continue. But here she was, doing it anyway.
The building expedition had been out on the mess hall's bulletin board for weeks, and there hadn't been many individuals who wanted to join. And Delilah couldn't blame them.
Not for the pay, not for the risk—And most certainly not for the fact that the Council and the highest tiers of the facility were showing any support or involvement in it.
The reason they were hesitant and didn't outright take the project away from her, is because it stopped the riots the moment it was introduced—Or paused them, temporarily.
Delilah knew, deep down, it was all a ploy to get the lowest civilians to keep living life in ignorance, but nobody would be more ignorant than the ones making the rules.
A sharp thrill of metal had caused Delilah to turn, it had been Mitch Roberts who had been born into one of the lowest levels. Though his intelligence was far too valuable to be left cramped and contained in such conditions.
"You alright, 'Lilah?" Mitch asked, and she puffed the breath she was holding out and returned back at the task at hand. She could go on and on about the level of disrespect lingering throughout the facility, that matters were getting worse—And with the sign-ups failing, things were going to turn into an absolute shitstorm if she didn't get things moving.
But of course, even with her father as the Captain, there was little funding from the Council.
Yet Delilah couldn't wait to get things moving from the ground up. Damn those men, and damn them twice for not trusting her or her calculations.
"We're behind schedule, and you're asking me if I'm alright?" She responded, but Mitch snorted. "What did you expect, good old pops to give you better funding? He barely remembered your birthday last month." She hummed and pushed herself out from underneath the piece of machinery as she handed him the tool.
Mitch wasn't being mean, he was being honest, which Delilah appreciated more than anything else.
"That's the best it's going to be, call the team soon, yeah? We need to get things moving if we don't want another uproar." It was a cruel reminder, but Mitch had responded with a firm nod and followed the order of calling the team.
It hadn't been the amount that she hoped for, but she managed to gain the essentials by seeking them out and recruiting them herself.
Even if every member had more than one individual task at a time.
Today's departure was going to be a normal expedition, which didn't require confirmation but did need notice. It might prove to be difficult, but Delilah felt discouraged when she caught wind of who was on duty as of right now.
"Fuck."
"What's up?" Mitch called out from the opposite end of their mechanical cabin, and she groaned as she held up her tablet. "I have to report to Hardin."
It was a shared look of panic and temptation to just go anyway that pushed through the forefront. "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission?
"Yeah, you weren't there for dinner the other night, Mitch. We're lucky this team isn't already scraped." She spoke, her head dropping back to gather the data on her tablet. But Mitch had walked closer, not wanting a table to be between them.
"Well, it would've been better than giving us the bare minimum. This tech is ancient!"
"Ancient is a century. We'll be lucky if this is half, and besides, if it works it works. If everything's good, we'll plan for tomorrow morning instead. Before the normal hunting hours, I want to know what the creature's patterns are and how badly things will be disturbed." Mitch nodded, but Delilah had turned around and attempted to mentally prepare herself for the trip toward the upper bay.
Hardin Walters was the man she was looking for, given that he was training to become the second in command to the Captain. He was fairly busy. Which meant, without a doubt, that her brother John would be somewhere nearby.
Course, John had signed off on the first stages of this project, thinking it would quiet down the rest of the lower class—But what the Captain had failed to realize is that Delilah would put in her all.
In the course of a week, she had managed to get all the supplies needed, and a decent-sized team full of well-capable and qualified friends of hers to get the project started. Even with the carefully placed roadblock, she had managed to fix the damned tech provided—Though it felt more of a donation than actually giving them the necessary equipment.
"Why can't you bypass and ask the Captain?"
"Hierarchy doesn't work like that, and besides—My fiancé might get offended. Again." Hardin Walters was, as of dinner last night, been officially named as Delilah's future husband.
The announcement was meant to go public within the next couple of days, which still set a wave of nervousness to sound off in her stomach as she remembered the grand proposal.
In this day and age, words mean nothing. She simply didn't want any rude remarks to follow or embarrass herself any further when Hardin clearly had some sort of lipstick stains on his skin and partially on his uniform.
Fitting, that she was proposed to him while he had entertained another woman before their cohered dinner celebration.
Without another moment wasted in trying to stall, Delilah had made the trek towards the main deck—Hoping that Hardin was somewhere in the general facility, but if she couldn't find him outright, then she would go to her brother or father.
Given that this was as time-sensitive as it could be.
With a quick scan of her badge, the doors of the Captain's deck had opened—And the entire operational table had been fairly vacant, besides her father, brother, and the two gentlemen who made up the third in command.
Ethan and Eli Roberts—While it felt as though she was greeting Mitch all over again, there was something about Eli's eyes that made him entirely less friendly than his cousin.
"Delilah! What a surprise!" James cheered, nicking his head for the two at the end of the table to leave. She had tilted her head down in the form of a greeting and smiled, but nothing more than that.
Not when there were already nerves causing her to choke on absolutely nothing.
"Hey sis, how's everything in the Hanger?" John asked, his hair readily disbelieving—No doubt the stress of the position bleeding over to him now. "Hanger is fine, I'm at Hanger 3 now...I'm actually looking for Hardin."
Perhaps that was a bit of an oversight on Captain James' own ignorance, but the smile grew while John's turned into worried lines, so she had taken the liberty of exuding them both from an awkward turn in the conversation. "I'm sure he's caught up on more important matters than checking over my procedures list."
The firm look on her brother's face had confirmed just what Delilah was getting at. He was well occupied elsewhere.
"I'm sure it's fine, sweetheart."
"Yes, but we want to launch tomorrow morning and I do need an approving signature so I can give the team the go-ahead." In altering the plan from tonight to tomorrow, it looked better than acting at the last minute.
With a quick pass of her tablet, John had frowned once more over his father's shoulder while James had looked entirely appalled.
"You fixed...You fixed the Neptune submarine?" John whispered, taking hold of the tablet just as Delilah had smiled, bright as could be. "Yes, though I'm sure you both were hoping I wouldn't make the deadline. I have met all the requirements placed in front of me assigned by Hardin, Eli, and John." She reminded, though it was a slight jab that caused her brother to panic as he looked up to his father.
"'Lilah, remind me again what it is you are planning to do?"
"This is the team I put together for the building expansion. We're doing a simple scan of the area and taking notes of which areas could hopefully provide us with more space to live and grow." It was clear that perhaps...She hadn't gotten the full approval from the Council, or that the next generation of leaders had failed to report, thinking that Delilah would not make it any further than she already had.
"Why...Why haven't I heard about this?" James questioned, disregarding Delilah and turning directly to John. "I'm sure I mentioned it. Delilah proposed it after the last riot in the west wing—When—"
"You mean to tell me your sister is the one who calmed the masses?!" Delilah turned to her brother, somewhat disappointed and partially no surprised. Just that their family relations were now going to affect others.
"I brought it to John a while ago, but I recently brought it back when I managed to gather a few trusted people on board. There's still a flyer out in the mess halls to try and get other members to join. But the need will be constantly updated the farther we get into the project." Delilah felt as though she was going to lose her train of thought, it didn't make sense as to why she struggling—This was her own dad for sea's sake!
The worst he could do is say no.
Then what?
His refusal to aid the beginning phases of the expansion plan was hardly going to work out when it was getting to be crucial with each passing day.
"Why wasn't I informed properly?" James questioned, turning towards John instead of Delilah herself. As if he was the one in charge of it all. If anything, she had already got the confirmation to the planning stages and she was hopeful that it was too late to disagree.
"We did. We called it the solution for our riot problems, you thought it was a great idea to—"
"I didn't think your sister was involved! Or that she'd be going out there to deal with a mess we need to solve." Delilah had attempted to count her breaths, hoping her brother would say something better than claiming he had.
No, she was pretty sure he hadn't, at this point in the conversation. So she took to steering it back to the agenda at hand.
"Look, the riots have paused for the last two weeks ever since this went public. This cannot keep going as a classified project. People are starting to wonder when the upgrades are being made."
"We have dozens of upgrades every year, 'Lilah. They're complaining about housing and basic shit like electricity. And we're trying to make sure people are being fed." Delilah turned her head to the side and let out the sigh she'd been holding in.
"The food issue hasn't been addressed yet either. Given the difference in classes, others aren't seeing a struggle yet. But the level of oxygen, the close proximity, maximizing space? That's what they can see, and right now, the projected estimates, even if we launched this two years ago we would still be considered late with the incoming birth rates." With a few simple clicks on her wrist, the projection had been passed towards the large table—Overtaking the facilities map and showcasing Delilah's estimates.
"Where did you pull these numbers from?"
"It's an equation, John. It's an estimate, it could be more for all we know. All I'm saying is that if we start this now, we might make some type of progress. A breakthrough." Captain James had been fiddling around with his daughter's tablet, checking over everything from the procedure to the confirmed proposal.
All before handing it back to his daughter with a rather pained smile. "Consider it approved, Ms. Totten. I'll grant you access to everything you and your team need." She nodded, pulling the tablet close and offering a thankful grin.
It was pointless to stay, not when she would see them later tonight and certainly discuss it at the dinner table—Something that John had avoided for the past few weeks.
A painful stab of neglect had crossed over as she glossed over her father's signature and went ahead back to their designated committee room. Truly, if her father had read over the document, he should have seen just how underfunded John had signed off on everything.
Or how uninvolved he, Hardin, and Eli actually were. Yet they were only there to claim the credit for solving a reoccurring issue. As stated previously to being referred to as a 'solution.'
There was no point for Delilah to take it up with her father, she simply wanted to be deployed tomorrow without any more delay.
Without another word, she hurried off—Clutching the data pad tightly as she conjured just how tonight was going to fair. Though, perhaps it would be a refreshing change instead of hearing her dad brag about what John had accomplished.
It was getting repetitive when she herself was making tremendous progress. But nothing would be in comparison to the first son of the Captain, rendering anything remotely impressive on her end, nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Their mother, Lauren, was a little better in seeking out Delilah in terms of how she faired—But the woman was well retired now, her duties had been long taken over by the following generation. And also Delilah had cared to investigate, her mother had gone out and created a knitting club with those in the same circle.
The evidence clearly shown on her bed, as a beautifully knitted blanket kept her warm and safe at night.
But that was all her mother and those in her group cared about. Knitting patterns and their weekly schedule being pushed around due to inconveniences—When realistically, they were highly dangerous and deserved to be mentioned more than just in passing.
Though, she couldn't fault her mother too much. The woman hadn't any training in the likes of engineering or anything remotely similar in this case.
No, her mother was a craftier—A designer, in more hobby-like compartments.
Nothing that would make a useful living if she hadn't been matched with her father. But given the dynamic, Delilah could venture as to how her father favored her mother more than anyone else in his generation.
She stayed in her own place, didn't interfere, and was kind. Not to mention very gentle on the eyes, as Captain James loved to repeat and brag about.
Instead, Delilah had returned to her docking bay and found Mitch looking over the table with Andy—Who sparked in delight to see her, almost eager to hear the news.
"'Lilah! And, how did it go? Did we get the green light?"
"Christ, let her speak." Mitch hissed, nicking him in the side—But Delilah's smile betrayed her. "We've got the green light from Captain James. Though technically, John didn't say fuck all about the project and just called us a solution, so...Hopefully they don't pull the plug later." She instated, passing her tablet towards Mitch for him to see her father's signature.
"And a clear ride?" Mitch choked, and Delilah rolled her eyes at the two's delight.
"We're not going to abuse that, okay? Just what we need and maybe some compensation for putting the bucket of bolts back together, okay?" Andy smirked once more and turned to his own tablet and made a suggestion.
"We already have diving equipment, Andy." Delilah reminded, and he pouted with another gesture to the screen. "Yeah, but we're talking about actual exploration. The Ark hasn't done that since the first decade of our recolonization. I'm just saying it'd be good to put something as important as our suits to be a little higher standard than Neptune-aged bullshit." It was true, even though this decision could have been made at a later time, Delilah had reluctantly nodded.
She, for the time being, was in charge of this project—Until someone of higher status decided this would be their new project. The prospect of this saddened her, as she could see Hardin having the epiphany that something needed to be done.
So, for the next few hours, the three—four—As Stacy joined them, who looked well exhausted from her shift in the Hanger. It was grueling work, something that Delilah herself had experienced in order to get her qualifications.
She was thankful, however, that her family wasn't struggling to survive off her earned credits as there was little to be found, given that this project hadn't settled any sort of salary.
Not until Delilah took the moment to sit down and prospect just how much every member on her team seemed to be tomorrow morning.
Though, it seemed like decades away when she finally arrived at her family's cabin—And the smell of freshly steamed fish and what she could only assume would be kelp noodles.
John's favorite.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Date: 10/02/23
Time: 4:00
Words: 2883
Author's Note:
Welcome to my new project!
I've wanted to write a mermaid story for so long, and here we are!
As of right now, my posting schedule will be every--
MWF until around the 20th or I get to 8-9 chapters posted.
Let me know what you think!
See you Wednesday for another update!!