Ilaria

“Going forward, there is going to be a change in your schedules,” said Mercy.

Ilaria’s entire body filled with suspicion; she did not like the sound of this. She and Vita worked the same hours every day, together. That was how they liked it.

The commander leaned forward onto her forearms resting on her desk, a sympathetic smile twisting her lips. “Having you both only available at the same time as each other reduces the cover we have spread throughout the day for any last-minute needs the ship may have.”

Ilaria was quick to begin pushing back. “We can’t exactly wander away too far if you needed us in an emergency, Commander.” She and Vitality were stood between the desk and the door, having been summoned in the middle of their shift. Vitality’s spine was iron-rod straight and her expression blank from what Ilaria could catch from the corner of her eyes. Such a goody-two-shoes was Vita.

“This is to avoid calling on either of you when you are in your downtime,” said Mercy. “Disrupting rest is completely counter-productive.”

Ilaria responded, “I think this decision is counter-productive to morale.”

“I didn’t realise you were so dependent on Vitality’s presence. Perhaps she could provide you with a small blanket treated with her scent?”

“We all know you thrive without friends, Commander, sat in your office all alone all day, but some of us actually enjoy the company of others.”

The silent third member in the room was bouncing her wide eyes between them, horror evident in her features.

Mercy was quick to retaliate. “I wish I could get a moment alone in this office, Ilaria, but I see just about every member of the crew passing through here at least once a day.” She straightened a pen on her desk neurotically. “Maybe you should branch out and meet some other people instead of clinging to Vitality’s skirt.”

“Vitality and I share a group of friends,” Ilaria corrected her. “And I doubt they’ll appreciate having to shift their plans to accommodate seeing one of us at a time.”

“It is a change of but a few hours, your social life will survive.”

In the pause after Mercy’s words, Vitality managed to get a word in for the first time since they arrived in the command room. “What exactly will these changes look like, Commander?”

Mercy was visibly pleased with Vita’s indirect acceptance of the change. Ilaria scowled. They didn’t need to hear any more about these changes if they didn’t intend to agree to them - and Ilaria certainly didn’t!

“I would be glad to show you, Vita.” Mercy swivelled in her chair and detached a tablet from the wall behind her. Laying it on her desk, she opened a file to show the women a diagram with each of their names and a schedule on a three-day rotation. “See, one of you will start two hours earlier, the other will be two hours later. This will add an extra four hours of coverage to our navigational department, meaning we have twelve hours of on-duty time and twelve hours off-duty.”

“Starting work at seven in the morning?” Ilaria groaned.

“Only for three days at a time,” Vita reminded her softly. “But you like sleeping late so why don’t you take the eleven till seven shift permanently? I prefer an early start.”

“Or,” Ilaria reasoned, “and this is a tried and tested method, we could keep our nine to five. Dolly Parton wouldn’t steer us wrong.”

“I am not familiar with that officer,” said Vita.

“She was a singer on Earth, a very long time ago. But her music is timeless.” The sincerity with which she spoke seemed to confuse the two aliens. Ilaria was only half-joking, because Jolene was her go-to karaoke song over a century since it was released.

“This change has been decided,” said Mercy, steering them sternly back onto the topic at hand.

“By who?” asked Ilaria.

“By me, your commanding officer.”

“Could we get a second opinion? Preferably from someone with more than a single brain cell floating around in their skull.”

“Fuck you, Ilaria” Mercy huffed. It was far more quiet than usual and Ilaria wondered if the commander hadn’t intended to curse in front of Vitality.

“Too late, your mother already has.”

Mercy rolled her eyes with a look of exasperation. Her black eyes were hard with anger.

But Ilaria was like a dog with a bone, undeterred by anything. “Oh? Am I wrong?” she asked, grinding salt into the small wound she had made. Her tone light and her brows high with faux curiosity. “Were you grown in a pod instead of birthed from a woman?”

Mercy slammed her fists on the desk. But she didn’t get a chance to hear Mercy’s answer on her stork origin story. With a garbled apology and agreement to the new schedule, Vitality snatched Ilaria by the scruff of the neck and dragged her out of the command room like a mortified parent.

Once they were back in their own workstation, she spoke through a tight and twitchy mouth. “Why must you always fight with her? What do you gain from it?”

Ilaria settled for an answer that was at least half-true. “A fearsome frown usually.” The whole truth was that she enjoyed fighting with Mercy; it filled her body with a current of excited energy. It was only a shame that the commander hadn’t yet lunged at her over the desk. Ilaria, being half a foot shorter and at least thirty pounds lighter than her superior, was more than capable of calculating her chances of winning a physical fight with Mercy as a solid zero percent. But it wasn’t a victory she craved. Perhaps she had been in deep space too long but would give anything to have Commander Mercy pin her down. Squeeze her. Squash her. Animalistic displays of strength from their cool and calm leader. Her mind did a U-turn back to the situation at hand. “And why did you just agree to her demands?” she snapped, giving Vita a scolding look. “I had just cracked her!”

“And that is your goal? To make her angry?”

“I like to see her react. She’s so stone-faced with everyone else. I like that I can make her explode.” Ilaria chuckled to herself.

“What does stone-faced mean? Are you talking about her skin?”

“No, it means she does not show her feelings on her face. She’s good at hiding her emotions.”

“That is an advantage; it’s important for good leaders.”

“Yeah, but I don’t do well with authority figures.”

“Perhaps you should try some soul stretching. It may put you at peace.”

Ilaria had no interest in Ailu't yoga, she had tried the human version and didn’t understand the appeal then either. The Ailu't acted as though yoga were something magical and soul-shifting, but the only thing Ilaria had ever shifted during yoga was gas.

“I don’t need inner peace; I need peace from everyone else to let me get on with my work!”

Vita sighed and tucked herself away at her own desk before calling over her shoulder, “I am sure you will adjust to the new schedule within a few days.”

Ilaria grumbled to herself and began jabbing at her keyboard with passive-aggressive vigour.