A Proposition

In the four weeks since her onboarding, the cramped radio room aboard the Chariot had become Victoria Numé’s second home. The room was little more than a sleeping cabin retrofitted and refurbished to hold the bare essentials: A wall-mounted desk contained a receiver, transmitter, and amplifier, whose wires climbed up and out of the room into the ceiling. A newly-printed map of the eastern continents hung on the left wall, where it billowed under its push pins - the open porthole above the equipment allowed the cool Avery Sea breeze to filter in. Another side table on the right held the lieutenant’s personal radio and a well-worn typewriter; the latter’s surface hosted a score of smudges and dings that stood starkly out of place in the otherwise state-of-the-art room. 

The lieutenant hummed a jaunty tune as she typed, the steady clack-clack-ing of keys providing a rhythmic backing. The radio room itself was tucked away from the busier thoroughfares of the ship; Victoria relished the privacy it afforded her in moments like this.

“And this will be your assigned room,” a blue kobold in a captain’s uniform announced as she opened the door for Victoria. The kobold cleared her throat and stepped aside, motioning for the lieutenant to step in. Victoria’s eyes widened as she turned her gaze on the transmitter. A V-82 vacuum tube radio!? Golly, they didn’t even have one of these back in my bachelor's program! Victoria gently ran a hand over the dials, in admiration of the work that went into this modern marvel. And the room is so snug! Compared to the classrooms at the Sciens D’Arms, this is heaven!

“I hope you don’t get lonely in here,” her escort gave a curt laugh. “Or intimidated. This room used to be part of the officers’ quarters, so the only people who come back here are myself, Major Malqir, and the Colonel.” I get to be left alone? No unannounced interruptions? No having to navigate small talk like with the clerical students every day? It took serious effort for Victoria to hide her burgeoning excitement, scrunching up her lips to avoid any outbursts then and there. She thanked her lucky stars her back was to the Captain. A few seconds passed before she realized the kobold behind her was actually waiting for an answer. She stiffened her back, turned, and gave a salute. “I’ll do my best, Quartermaster Sybil!”

“Lieutenant!” A commanding voice barked from the open doorway.

“Gyah!” Victoria’s melody descended into cacophony. The chair beneath her grated across the floor as she scrambled to attention. “C-Colonel Heim!” Cordelia was standing squarely in the doorway, hands behind her back. She was sporting that signature scary look Victoria often saw her wield against troublemakers. The operator felt her heart race. Oh no, what did I do!? Victoria opened her mouth to speak, but Cordelia beat her to the punch. The way her mind was racing, Victoria doubted she could have gotten anything coherent out anyway.

“Dinner in the wardroom ended thirty minutes ago. I sent one of the stewards to search for you in your room.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Have you been here the whole time?”

Victoria dropped forward into an apologetic bow, motions so practiced and perfected they’ve become second-hand nature. “S-sorry, Colonel! I completed my assignment, so I thought I had time to give mytypewriteranotherdeep-cleaning,and-” She must have let her initial shock get the better of her; looking back to the machine, she noticed two of the keys had jammed together against the ribbon, marring her otherwise impeccable work. No problem! That’s an easy fix. Just a sec and I’ll have it up and- She frowned. “Wait. Dinner!?” She looked at her watch: 19:00. Her shoulders slumped. Awwww, man… I was looking forward to those croquettes, too…

The officer in the doorway cleared her throat, looking rather unamused. “Come with me.”

“Ma’am?” Victoria stiffened and turned back to attention.

“Did you hear me, Lieutenant?” Cordelia scowled. “Your shift may end after dinner, but your duties as adjutant continue at my discretion. Come. With. Me.”

Dreams of dinner dashed, Victoria gave a subservient nod and followed Cordelia out of the room. The colonel raised a hand, stopping Victoria dead in her tracks. “I believe you were working on something, Lieutenant? Bring it.”

The electric lights lining the corridor’s ceiling flickered and hummed, and far down in the adjacent halls Victoria could hear the chatter of the airship’s sailors as they prepared for a shift change. Cordelia lead her to a room Victoria had visited dozens of times since her embarkment. Under different circumstances, it became a place to stimulate her mind and test her technological knowhow with the Colonel. Now dread replaced it, as Victoria mentally prepared herself for the stern talking-to that felt inevitable. 

Cordelia pushed the doors to her office open, flicking the wall switch to reveal a small heated plate of food at her desk: A modest slab of corned beef, chef’s salad, and potato croquettes that looked freshly-fried. The colonel came around her desk, sitting in her chair as she motioned Victoria to sit opposite. A small place setting was prepared, though it was evidently clear to Victoria as she put her typewriter down that this wasn’t the work of the stewards; none of the silverware was stamped with the Dallmooran military’s initials. In fact, Victoria didn’t recognize this coat of arms at all. Is this a personal collection? Which Family’s is this?

Cordelia kept an attentive eye on Victoria as she sat down. Is this some kind of test? But it smells so amazing, though! Her stomach growled, and both she and Cordelia heard it. Victoria sat straight up, not daring to make a move. While she tried her best to avoid Cordelia’s gaze directly, she knew her commander was looking right through her.

This farce continued until Cordelia gave an impatient huff and rose. However, unlike Victoria’s worst fears assumed, she didn’t look angry? Cordelia opened a slim cabinet beside the bookshelf and pulled out a bottle of Kahinan Rosé and two glasses. “Wine, Lieutenant?”

“What?” Cordelia squinted. “I-I mean, yes, please,” Victoria gulped.

Cordelia returned to her desk, poured her own glass, then Victoria’s. As she pushed the glass over to the lieutenant with one hand, she motioned with the other to begin. “If I may, Colonel, why save something for me? she asked, hesitantly spearing a croquette with her fork. “I thought regulation meant I gave up my meal.” She crunched down and hummed. The food on-board was never going to be Sait restaurant quality, but gods did they nail this. She underestimated just how hungry she was and quickly stuffed another into her mouth, then another, crumbs falling from her lips.

“And I should just let my adjutant starve?” Cordelia responded austerely. “Regardless of what regulation says, every crewman on-board my ship is important.” She motioned to the typewriter. “Your dedication to your craft is admirable Lieutenant, but if you think I’ll let you starve yourself in its name, you’re wrong.” She took a sip of wine. “How long have you been lugging that model around?” Her tone changed, curiosity eclipsing severity.

At first, Victoria didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to make of the mixed signals Cordelia was giving her, but she felt…thankful. Regardless, she gave a silent blessing as the colonel changed the subject. “Oh golly, it’s gotta be eleven years at this point?” Victoria swallowed. The typewriter, on the outside, was nothing interesting. It was a decades-old model that could have been found in any office in Dallmoor’s cities. A model that’s been refurbished, recleaned, replaced, and rebuilt time and time again. But it was hers. Oh, right! She leaned over, plucking a finger down to unjam the keys. “I’ve been maintaining it myself since. It may look well worn, but to me it’s well-loved,” she let herself smile as she rubbed the stray ink from her fingers onto a napkin.

“You have a lot of passion,” Cordelia agreed. “And the know-how to back it up. I… never thanked you properly for your assistance with my personal projects. You have my gratitude, Lieutenant.”

Victoria swelled with pride. “Of course, Colonel! I-I mean, it’s been an honor to look at all of these designs of yours! The biplane has some real promise, if we can take a crack at it while we’re on leave!” She pushed her finished plate aside. “But… Why me?” She tilted her head. “The Major mentioned you never had an adjutant before?”

Cordelia refilled her glass. Behind her, the summer sunset gave its dying gasp as the last rays of orange emptied the room, leaving the two bathed in pale electric light. “This is a small enough crew that Sybil and Lyon could fill in when needed. However,” the colonel eyed Victoria dead-on as she took another sip. “Neither of them are engineers, and our radio operators seem to wash out quicker than the tides. Tell me, why would someone like you go into the military? And into radio? Your engineering skills could have brought you acclaim - I’m sure Pemberton would have gladly taken you, or any office in the nation, but you came to me specifically.” Cordelia leaned back into her chair, steepling her fingers.

Victoria took a light sip, her first of the evening. A little liquid courage went a long way with her. She needed to pace herself, lest she end up on the floor like so many of the university parties her roommate dragged her to… “May I speak frankly, ma’am?” 

Cordelia nodded.

“The truth is, and you’ve probably already seen it, but… I’m not the best at speaking with people. In fact, I doubt that the rest of the ship knows I exist… I’d rather my work speak for me.” Victoria rubbed the back of her neck. “But, in the military, in radio operations, you don’t have to worry about that! My roommate tried taking a peek in the operations manual, and called it a ‘boring routine stacked on stuffy regulations.’ B-but that’s exactly why I like it! It’s something I can understand, and everyone understands the same script! I don’t have to worry about making small talk, I can hide behind my work.” She looked down and fidgeted with the watch on her wrist. “It’s easier that way…”

Cordelia said nothing for several beats, continuing to eye Victoria with that acute, observational gaze usually reserved for when going over her blueprints together. Victoria shuffled in her seat. “Do you feel comfortable around me, Lieutenant Numé?”

“M-Ma’am?” Victoria shot up. What kind of question is that? How can she expect me to-

“Answer me honestly.” Cordelia had a passive look on her face, but Victoria still felt like prey in a predator’s sightline. 

The rest of Victoria’s glass emptied in one gulp. “W-well, like I said, you’re my inspiration, Ma’am. Despite…” Victoria took a greatly-needed breath, trying to pick her next words carefully. “Despite how scary you want to seem, I feel like we’re kindred spirits? You have your vision for the future, and it’s one that I want to be a part of.“ Her heart was pounding again. Why is it pounding so hard? 

Cordelia gave a thoughtful hum. “Thank you. I think I have a good judgement of your character now, Victoria.” She came back from around her desk, leaving glass and wine bottle behind. 

“And what would that be, Colonel?” Victoria looked up as the woman, her commander, now stood over her. A part of her wanted to retreat, wanted to sink into the chair rather than be held under the intense glare that bore deeply into her. But the other part of her… She was acutely aware of the blush on her face. Is it hot in here? The fan’s running, but it’s not enough. 

“I think that if you only let your work speak for you, it would be a pale imitation of such a beautiful, unique voice,” Cordelia answered, her tone unwavering. She held out a hand but Victoria reflexively brushed it away. She frowned, yet said nothing as she brought it back down to her side.

Beautiful? Unique? Me? “C-c’mon Colonel, you’re just saying things, right? M-maybe you’ve had a bit too much wine, and-” Victoria desperately wished she was half as confident as the colonel was right now. There was so much she wanted to say, she should have taken her hand and- No, that’s- W-why would you think that? In here!? In front of her!?!?

“Do you think I’ve been ignorant to your lingering glances?” Cordelia accused. “To the way you inch your fingers closer to mine as we’re drafting blueprints and battle plans?” She’s your commander! Flights of fancy when you’re alone are one thing, but if you do this… 

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Victoria lied. This isn’t right! 

“Are you sure?” Victoria felt caught in a crosshair, and Cordelia had her finger on the trigger.

…Isn’t it?

Victoria shook her head “no” a little too enthusiastically. If this is a dream, don’t let me wake up.

Cordelia held out her hand again, and Victoria took it without a second thought. A jolt shot down her spine when she gave it a gentle squeeze. “Then please, Victoria. When we’re alone, call me by my name, not my rank.” 

“Col- No, C-Cordelia,” Victoria repeated. No other words came to her. No other thoughts came to her.

“Mm, that’s better.” Cordelia knelt beside her. Victoria swore her heart stopped as Cordelia cupped her chin. She felt Cordelia’s breath on her face, and nothing else mattered. She could focus on nothing but those luscious lips she’d denied herself in dozens of passing fantasies. “Shall I kiss you, Victoria?”

“Golly, please,” Victoria answered thoughtlessly, and indulged in her forbidden fruit.