The Captain

Swweets smoothed back his hair and secured his skipper’s hat in place. He beamed at himself as he stepped back from the mirror. At one point in his life, he had considered dying his hair so it wasn’t white anymore. He’d even considered changing his name to something a little more threatening. But doing things like that would only make people think that he disliked himself, he thought, and no one would respect a leader without confidence. Anyway, it couldn’t hurt to look older than he was, and as long as he went by the self-imposed title of “Captain,” he didn’t have to hear whatever nonsense his parents thought was cute when he was a kid. He straightened out his navy blue jacket, slipped one revolver into each holster, and took one last look at his reflection before heading out for the day.

“Mornin’, Captain!”

“Mornin’, Plank.”

A few other guards in the cafeteria straightened up at the mention of their boss and joined in the greetings. This prompted a friendly grin and nod from the Captain, who immediately walked past them and towards the counter for a snack. Just as he put some eggs on his plate, he sensed someone behind him. He braced himself for whatever request they were sure to have.

“Sir?” It was Zane’s voice.

The Captain turned towards him. “Yes?”

“Selfen is in the brig.”

His forced pleasant expression faltered. “What?”

“...Selfen is in the brig?”

This early? Swweets ground his teeth. “Alright. I’ll speak with them.”

The brig was what they called the offices in the back that had been gutted and transformed into holding cells. Swweets figured that such a name would be a bit more appropriate for a place that belonged to a Captain. He peeked into each of the windows until he found the cell he was looking for and let out a weary sigh.

The figure slumped against the back wall was certainly his sibling, though he only knew it because no one else would dress so ridiculously. Today, Selfen was sporting a jumpsuit made of disparate t-shirts along with their practically permanent full-face mask. Swweets opened the door. Selfen wasn’t a threat.

“Ahoy, Cap’n!” Sel exclaimed. They had a real talent for making a title sound like an insult.

“Hi,” replied Swweets with an unwavering frown, “What are you doing here?” Sel began to speak, and then Swweets held up a hand and corrected himself. “Don’t say sitting down. I mean how did you get yourself arrested.”

“Buzzkill.”

“How about this: graffiti or theft?”

“Graffiti this time,” they said proudly.

Swweets nodded. Depending on the nature of it, that would either be easier or harder to deal with than theft. “What did you do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Swweets rolled his eyes. “I’ll find out eventually.” As quickly as he could, he opened his mind toward Selfen’s and skimmed through their most recent memories. It would save him a lot of trouble if he found out where this happened and what supplies he’d need this way. The cell. The arrest. The rocks. Got it. All before Selfen could get in their next word.

Selfen giggled. “You sure will.”

Swweets saw the memory of the graffiti in question. There were a lot of dicks. He shut his eyes for a moment and massaged the bridge of his nose. Sometimes he thought about locking Selfen in here, just for a night. Maybe Corin wouldn’t even find out, and maybe Selfen would finally face a consequence for messing with Park business. At the same time, though, just letting them go would mean avoiding another tedious conversation. But in spite of the potential to cause one of those tedious conversations, Swweets did feel the need to say something: “I think you’re abusing your end of the deal.”

“Oh, you do?” Selfen’s tone betrayed the fact that their brother had mentioned that for at least the past two times they had ended up in the brig.

The Captain turned his head and partially closed the door to shout down the hall, “I need two guards over here!” When he turned his attention back to the cell, Selfen was standing. “Yes,” said Swweets sternly. “When I gave you immunity, I meant that it was fine if you fucked up a couple times. I didn’t think you’d purposefully mess with my shit.”

They snorted. “Really? Which Selfen did you live with for twenty years?”

Good point, thought Swweets, though he’d never say that out loud.

“Besides,” Selfen continued, “It was Cor’s idea. Not yours.”

“But I agreed to it and followed through.” He stepped aside to allow the guards to each grab one of Selfen’s arms, which Selfen allowed with their head held high.

While the guards escorted Selfen down the hall and towards the exit, Swweets marched alongside. “You’re a real philanthropist,” Selfen hissed.

Swweets didn’t look at his sibling. “You wouldn’t be sarcastic about it if you actually thought about what I’ve done.”