As she strode into the galley, the clang of pots and the murmur of the crew set the backdrop for her new endeavor. Miki took a deep breath, steeling herself against the challenge ahead. This was more than just preparing meals; it was her chance to gain their respect and ultimately secure her position on the ship.
The kitchen was bustling with activity—crew members moving about, chopping vegetables, stirring stews, and baking bread. The head cook, a burly man with flour dusted on his apron, glanced up as she entered. His eyes narrowed slightly, sizing her up.
“New blood, huh?” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “What can you do?”
“I’m here to learn. I want to earn my points,” Miki replied, settling her gaze on him.
The cook nodded, seemingly satisfied. “All right, then. Start by washing those pots over there,” he replied, pointing to a pile of grimy dishes in the corner. “It’ll get you into the rhythm of things. And remember, tidy work earns points.”
Miki set to work immediately, focusing on scrubbing the pots until they gleamed. She kept the tasks at the forefront of her mind—meal preparation, caring for the crew, keeping the place clean. With each pot she scrubbed, she felt the weight of Captain Reed’s expectations resting on her shoulders.
Once the pots were done, Miki moved on to chopping vegetables for the evening meal. The cook watched her closely as she worked. She concentrated on her technique, ensuring she didn’t waste any of the ingredients. Time seemed to slip away as she lost herself in the rhythmic motion of chopping, her worries momentarily abated by the focus the task required.
“Impressive. You’ve got quite the knack for it,” the cook remarked, surprising her. “But don’t let that go to your head. There’s more to this than just cooking. You’ll need to be mindful of the crew too.”
With a nod, Miki remembered her second task—caring for the prisoners. She felt a tug of mixed emotions. She had grown accustomed to distancing herself from her former life, but the weight of those she was serving weighed heavily on her conscience.
A few hours later, with the meal prepared and the galley in order, Miki found it necessary to muster strength for a final task before the meal was served: addressing the needs of the prisoners, who would soon be escorted to dine.
Gathering her resolve, she made her way to the brig, where the air was heavy with tension. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the barred windows, casting long shadows across the stark space.
“Evening,” she greeted the guard, who nodded back, clearly uninterested.
As the prisoners shuffled in, Miki observed their weary faces—hunger etched in their lines and fear flickering in their eyes. Remembering Captain Reed’s words on respect, she took a deep breath and met their gazes. “Welcome. I’ve prepared a meal for you. Please take a seat and I’ll bring it over.”
Their eyes brightened slightly at her approach; she could see the faint spark of hope as she began serving them. With care, she dished out portions, trying to be mindful and attentive in her service. “How are you all managing?” she asked, her voice soft but steady, genuinely curious about their welfare.
One of the prisoners, a woman with tired eyes but a fierce spirit, responded, “Better now that we know someone cares. You’re different from others.”
Miki felt a warmth at her words. “I’m just trying to do my job,” she replied, trying to brush off the acknowledgment, but inside, she felt invigorated. Each positive interaction was another point in her favor.
By the time the last plate was served, she felt lighter. Not only had she earned points for punctuality and care, but she had also connected with those she was serving, allowing her compassion to shine through.
As Miki cleaned up the galley after the meal, she realized that her day had turned out well; she felt confident she had gained several points and avoided falling into the negative. She glanced at the clock, mentally tallying her performance.
With the galley now clean and organized, she made her way back to Captain Reed’s quarters, anticipation bubbling within her as she thought about the rewards she could choose. Would it be the extra meal, some free time, or perhaps a small favor?
As she approached his door, her heart raced—this was her beginning, a stepping stone to something greater as she navigated the uncertainty of life aboard the ship. She steadily knocked, ready to present her case and embrace whatever came next.