What It Means To Be A Captain [I]

Leo rested his hands flat against the crystal cradles.

The smooth surface didn't bite into his skin with raw static anymore… It yielded, taking his body heat and returning a steady pulse that felt less like an electrical shock and more like an extension of his own spine.

'I'm good…'

Through the neural link, the Wanderer-7 settled into his mind without a single tremor.

The old sputtering hauler with its screaming attitude thrusters, grinding gears and dry pneumatic seals was gone… In its place sat an iron predator.

There was no shuddering of loose deck bolts, no dry wheeze of an oxygen pump gasping for air. 

The new Graventhal hull was one unbroken skin as the twin ion drives at the stern hummed at a flawless frequency and the twelve thrusters along the bow, stern and belly waited for a twitch of his pulse.

He could feel the weight of the whole ship… twenty thousand tonnes of dense plating were balanced on the tips of his fingers.