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"For... what?"

"'Me' time." And then he indicated with his hand the empty Observation Room. She looked up at him, but his eyes stayed stagnant, as they always did. So, instead, she walked through the door, and heard Torvax close it gently behind her. He had given her fifteen minutes alone with the stars before starting their rounds. And though he didn't say it, Reyna knew what it was meant to be.

A deep breath before starting the day.

From then on, every morning before they began their days on the bridge, Torvax would give her fifteen minutes to herself, to process whatever it was she needed to that day. And he gave it to her like clockwork.

Efficient.

The Emberkind welcomedthree additional crew members in their time at Concordia, making their skeleton crew a fully functioning group of leaders and workers.

Cael Rask arrived with excellent credentials and a confidence that Reyna felt almost bordered slightly on cocky. He was a qualified Kaelari taking the position of Chief Engineer. He answered her interview questions effectively, made direct eye contact with her and an appropriate steadiness, and presented a service record that was, on paper, exactly what the Emberkind needed in a Chief Engineer. His markings held at baseline gold, though the hold wasn't clean. There was a muddiness to it, a slight instability that suggested his suppression had been learned adequately but never polished.

She noted this. Every Kaelari carried their control differently, and Reyna wasn't about to disqualified him for something like that. Reyna's gold was automatic, Elena's violet had pulsed with a rhythm that made it look intentional, and even Kess's silver-blue was a professional choice. Cael's gold sat on top of his composure rather than growing from inside it, and Reyna just registered the difference to remember in her time to work with him.

He was hired and was competent enough. Elena had once told her that good crews weren't built from perfect people, but that they were built from adequate ones who grew into more. Reyna believed this and believed Cael would be the perfect example of such.

Now, Maren Laith said almost nothing during her intake interview, and Reyna found this gentle, not alarming. Some people arrived loud, like Jere. Some arrived quiet and observant, like Reyna. This woman was simply one of the quiet, observant ones, sitting across from Reyna's desk and absorbing every detail of the room with an intensity that went beyond attentiveness.

Maren was Noethan, a species Reyna knew only mostly by reputation. The Noethan were born with what their culture called the Eye Shimmer, a biological trait that functioned similar to a camera where their eyes caught and held light differently, showcasing a cascade of colors in their eyes when it was activated. But behind that shimmer was incredible and extremely helpful on a ship like the Emberkind. Noethan minds recorded everything they witnessed in permanent, perfect sensory detail when their Eye Shimmer activated. For example, someone like Maren could glance at a room for three seconds, or even less, and when their Eye Shimmer activated, they could describe every object in that same room twenty years later with zero degradation. It was, depending on who you asked, either the most remarkable gift in the Coalition, or the most unsettling. Because sometimes perfect memory meant perfect memory no matter what, and that included certain memories people preferred were forgotten.

Maren's own Eye Shimmer was pronounced as it activated in her eyes, catching the overhead lighting as she moved her gaze across Reyna's office during the interview. Reyna knew with absolute certainty that this woman had just memorized the specific arrangement of Elena's star maps on the wall, the exact shade of Reyna's markings, and, most likely, even the number of scratches on the console's edge.

Upon hiring her, Maren's work was flawless from her very first shift. Her performance made Reyna look twice because work that thorough from someone so young usually meant either extraordinary talent or extraordinary pressure. And Reyna knew, almost better than anyone, that the distinction mattered. Elena had taught her that.

Reyna didn't learn until almost a whole decade later that Maren had been dimming her Eye Shimmer around the Emberkind crew, making it less visible in order to make herselfless noticeable. She would go on to tell Reyna that she'd been told on previous jobs that her perfect memory made people uncomfortable, that it could feel like surveillance to those around her. She said that many of them told her that they didn't want to work with someone who remembered every mistake with photographic precision.

The Emberkind, its crew, and Reyna made sure to educate people as soon as it was discovered. And greatly, they slowly succeeded.

Selowen wasthe last to arrive on the Emberkind to complete the crew. But the day she arrived on board, she went directly to the Habitat Wing without reporting to Reyna first.

Upon being notified, Reyna was trying to determine whether this was a breach of protocol or exactly the right priority. So when she found Selowen twenty minutes later, kneeling in the arboreal enclosure of The Comfort Grove with a Mosskin Niblet cradled in her arms and the automated humidity settings adjusted across five separate enclosures, Reyna knew she had hired the right Chief Animal Specialist to replace Jere. Selowen was the latter, taking her role seriously and choosing the right priority upon coming onboard.

Reyna studied the older woman as she examined her while she worked. Selowen was a Kaelari/Brontari hybrid. Six-foot-eight with a solid Brontari frame but with the same Kaelari markings that she, Kess, and Cael all shared now on the ship. But Selowen's ran brighter and more responsive than a pureblooded Kaelari's, seemingly amplified by her mixed biology. In the habitat lighting, her markings warmed to match the glow of the enclosure plants, reading the creatures' emotional states beforeshe consciously registered them. She was quiet and moved with the gentleness and patience, knowing rushing or speed sometimes made you miss important things in life.

"The canopy species are stressed," Selowen said, breaking the silence. "The automated systems maintain temperature but not the humidity variance. I've corrected Enclosures Three through Seven for now and will consult with others to ensure the rest are up to snuff to keep the animals comfortable." She looked up at Reyna. "I hope that's acceptable to you, Captain?"

Reyna studied the old woman seated on the mossy covered ground. "You've already been on board for two hours."

"That is correct," Selowen answered.

"You did not connect with me prior to manning your station."

"That is also correct. The enclosures couldn't wait, Captain."

"I'm glad you came here first."

At that, the corners of Selowen's mouth lifted in a small smile, and Reyna suddenly felt a calm wash over her, as though her own grandmother were holding her in a tight embrace, helping all of her problems melt away.

"I know that face. That feeling you’re having, Captain? That'd be the Niblet," Selowen said, interrupting Reyna's trance.

"The Niblet?"

“Correct, Captain. The symbiotic moss on the back of the Niblet produces calming pheromones naturally, causing that ease and comfort you just felt a moment ago.”

That was when the said-Niblet in Selowen's arms let off a little snore.

"She was the one I was most worried about when I came in," Selowen explained. "Her little nose was so dry, and her eyes seemed small. I adjusted the humidity and within moments, she seemed better, but not altogether well. So I picked her up and helped soothe her to sleep, which, of its own, is notable as Niblets don't sleep in the presence of unfamiliar people."