While a certain Ukrainian griffon was busy practicing his sewing on living tissue, work for the watch officer up on the bridge was a lot more boring.

Cadet De Vries had honestly expected that the first watch he would do on his own was going to be a lot more... active. That expectation might have held some truth... had it been under normal circumstances. If the area they were in had been one of the world’s busiest waterways before they got themselves turned into furry fetishes (he shuddered at the thought), now the anchorage was all but deserted and the safety margins they had taken, which were considered sufficient with traffic, were now ludicrously excessive with an absent risk of collision. So he was just twirling a pen in his claw.

With nothing to keep him busy but his own thoughts and filling the logbook (which didn’t even take that much time), Geert soon found his mind wandering towards places he’d rather avoid, namely, his own transformation. He could only clench his beak when he thought about the implications of the bloody thing.

He hadn’t been entirely awake when the captain called them earlier to the bridge and had only realized part of the change. 'Oh look I got feathers' He had thought then. The complete scope of the change just hadn’t quite clicked into place yet.

But it had come crashing down at terminal speed when someone pointed out to him that his body shape was a bit off... for a male. Of course he hadn’t noticed at first, being more concerned by other... details, like the presence of a large feathery tail and a black and white beak.

Then other elements sprung up to add themselves to the puzzle. How wide his hips were, the fact the proportions of his ribcage and shoulders were quite narrow (fortunately he wasn’t burdened by breasts, but the angular shape of his ribcage was still very different from a human bone structure). And finally of course, the thing he really shouldn’t have missed when he got up and put on his coveralls was... the Void in his nether regions. He shuddered again.

The feathers he could deal with. Being the colour of a fucking rainbow he could deal with. Having a fucking beak and claws he could deal with. But having his motherfucking dick ripped off by some weird ass electromagnetic storm thingy. Hell fucking NO! How was this even fair?!

There was a crack. In his frustration he had broken his pen, spilling black ink on his claws. Fucking fantastic... He thought.

Geert stood up to fetch a tissue and wipe his soiled claws with a huff. He had plans before being turned into a macaw mind you. Plans he had drawn since he had signed up at the maritime academy back home for after he got his officer license. He had a girlfriend waiting for him back home in Groningen...

Guess those plans flew out the proverbial window the moment he woke up as a chick... Chick... Shit now he was making puns at his own expense, and in English to boot. He didn’t even like the language! Lacked the more pleasant singing tones of Northern Dutch... His feathers bristled.

There was a sink in a corner of the bridge, next to the toilet meant for the watch officer (so the guy wouldn’t have to leave the bridge if he really needed to release pressure in the tank). Geert went to wash the ink stains off of his claws there. In passing, he got a solid look at his new face in the mirror.

Poking out of his collar, his 'new' neck was thin, fluffy, and covered in bright red feathers. It was noticeably longer than what would be considered normal on a human and contributed to making his general silhouette appear very slender, though it wasn’t long enough to twist his proportions into those of a giraffe lookalike. His new body was lean, and a bit taller than he used to be (and that was something considering he used to be 1m85). He had lost on the strength scale however, because that body was clearly meant for speed and agility instead of raw power. Not very practical in an industrial environment...

Affixed to his neck was an angularly shaped head with a backwards swept forehead that was just high enough not to make people think of a caveman (he wouldn’t say woman)when they looked at him. And right in the middle of it all was a large curved macaw beak, with the top mandible white and the bottom one black. Geert knew that the appendage was unexpectedly sharp, but that it also had the odd property of being able to bend just enough to show facial expressions as he had tested earlier in his cabin by pulling faces in the mirror.

The beak hid some rows of molar in the back of his mouth (which allowed for some variety in nutrition, but not enough for him unfortunately, he had tried and was now stuck with a vegetarian diet after emptying the content of his stomach in his sink, salted beef was a no-go as of now). Geert opened his mouth, revealing a long black tongue in the middle of his mouth. He wiggled it a bit, the appendage was surprisingly agile and in all honesty, creeped him out a little bit.

As for his eyes, they had turned from their former deep blue colour to a teal colour, but at least they had the merit of having stayed human. Both were framed by a patch of white skin that reached as low as his cheekbones. Standing-in for the hairs which would have made up his eyebrows and eyelashes were very small green-blue downy feathers. The eyebrows themselves were only visible because they stood out against the red down feathers on his forehead.

His ears, too, had fallen victim to the Cataclysm. They were much bigger than before. From what he could feel they had become some sort of mobile elf-ish ears, but their appearance seemed even bigger due to the fact they were covered in the same red feathers that now made up most of his plumage. Most of, because the feathers on his arms, part of his tail and also those that had replaced his hair, were now shades of blue, green and yellow. His ‘hair’ or rather crest if he had give it a more fitting name (though it didn’t seem to have the range of motion the crest of the Chief Officer boasted for some reason), was now made up of a large number of long feathers that reached the middle of his back, with a handful of them forming some ‘bangs’ that framed the sides of his face.

Geert just glared spitefully at the reflection in the mirror, his reflection. He was cute.

“How in hell am I supposed to be taken seriously if I look like some furry fetish?” He muttered to himself in Dutch. He didn't really have anything against these guys, they usually kept to their own turf, but he dreaded being associated with them. That's not something you would want on your CV.

He picked up a towel and dried his hands. The ink had barely been visible against his black scales anyway.

The Dutchman didn’t bother lingering on his thoughts and instead decided to keep himself busy by trying to come up with a design for some new shoes that would fit his transformed feet. Boris down in the cafeteria was busy modifying some, but had only been able to find a design for the digitigrade feet found on most species in the crew, not including the hooves found on the hippogriffs and the lone minotaur. Feet with a backward facing toe on the ankle like those found on the parrots apparently required an entirely different approach.

Geert gave a look in passing at the navigation instruments and found nothing of note. The vicinity of the ship was still completely deserted, and the radio instruments were cycling automatically through every possible channel (that they had an antenna for) without hearing anything. The satellite connection was good though. Might be because nobody was making use of the bandwidth though, so not that good as far as they were concerned. Still, most servers on the Internet were still running. Whether that was going to last, however, was an unknown variable.

He grabbed a sheet of paper from the printer and sat down in the navigator’s chair by the helm. With his tail, he had to take care to push it aside and not sit down on it. The feeling of bent feathers, as he had experienced earlier, was particularly unpleasant, and for some reason he just couldn't stand the sight of his feathers being out of place.

If modifying his own sets of coveralls had been relatively easy (though he still had no idea on how to add some protection for his tail), coming up with an idea for shoes was completely different. His body? Similar enough to a human that he could just loosen the fabric in places and tighten it in others, that he had done plenty of times back when he was human every time he bought a new set. The shoes on the other hand (or claw, he mused, giving a glance at the appendage with which he was twirling a new pen), were something he didn’t think any human had ever bothered to design.

Except maybe... Nah, and if someone learned about that idea he would pass for either a fool or some kind of creep.

But it wasn’t like he had any better idea and exceptional circumstances lead to exceptional decisions, right? Plus if he was quick enough to delete the search history, he would be able to get away with it without attracting ridicule from the rest of the crew.

Geert steeled himself, he had to be sure of what he was going to do, else he slows down and risk having his plan discovered. He quickly fetched a company laptop that had been left next to the chart table and plugged it into the ship’s mainframe. He logged in on the server and accessed the system that would allow him to consult the Internet via the satellite connection. He would have to be quick, the secretary tended to heavily monitor anything that went through that line.

A few seconds later, he was able to boot up a search engine. The moment of truth had come, he thought.

In the search bar, he typed ‘bird furry’ and looked for images.

After a glance he remembered to set the safe search back on. God that one was going to leave a scar in his memory. He shook his head. Thank God the furries didn't openly advertise that content.

On the bright side, the endeavour was not all in vain because after a few seconds he already had a couple results to atone for his sinful use of company bandwidth (to be honest he would have avoided it if it could be helped but he didn’t really have any better idea). Most pictures depicted some really sketchy representations of what he had turned into, but he was more interested in possible designs for a new pair of shoes that included space for the hind toe.

Few pictures had actual ideas for shoes and rather elected to cover the feet with a design akin to a pair of fingerless gloves.

Come to think of it that might be doable if he could get his hands on the appropriate materials. Kevlar and leather certainly, and maybe he could add bits of rubber on the knuckles and the soles for added protection. That wouldn’t be as effective as safety boots, but he could salvage the soles from his own pair to get the puncture protection, though the crushing protection was a lost cause for sure. Yeah, that would do. He began drawing in earnest.

His designing was cut short a good fifteen minutes later when he received a call from an irate secretary that asked him what the hell he was doing googgling furries from the bridge computer. The Cadet apologised profusely and attempted to explain his reasoning, to no avail. The Italian secretary on the other end of the line just called him a dumbass (and some other things in Italian that probably meant about the same thing) and hung up without giving him the time to answer.

“Jeez, someone got up on the wrong foot this morning.” He said to himself, leaning back in his seat. “Eh, not like I wasn’t expecting it...” He mused, before turning back to his drawings after taking a look at the instruments. "Plus it's not like that's the most twisted shit guys can jack off to... That guy should get a look at some of the porn stashes on board before calling me a sick fuck."

Still nothing on the radar, good, he could keep on designing those foot-gloves. Completing a workable design took up about half of his watch, to which he added some notes before scanning it and sending it to the Chief Officer. The guy had turned into a parrot too after all, and he may have some use for it. Geert on the other hand, wouldn’t be able to act on his design until he got the materials for it, which they certainly didn’t have on board. Not in a usable state anyway.

Eh, unless they miraculously turned back human once they reached the shore, he would still need to do it by then. In all likelihood he should be able to get his hands on some materials at a depot in port.

Deciding he’d better keep himself busy for the rest of his watch, lest he start thinking too deeply again, he once again took control of the laptop and accessed the CCTV archives to get a look at what went on earlier that night. What time had Vadim said again? Right, 01.30.

He carefully browsed through every camera installed on the ship. Those situated inside were kind of useless because nobody was on screen and he couldn’t get a look at what was going on outside, but the cameras on the bridge and those on deck were much more interesting to look at on the other hand.

Geert brought up both the deck and bridge cams on screen at the same time and jumped to the moment of the incident. The flashes of colour were there, like Vadim had described, but there was something more. He leaned forward and squinted at the screen. Something had gone on with the ships at the anchorage. He went back a few seconds.

There. On the camera overlooking the main deck, he could get a good view of the other ships that had been around them at the moment. He carefully slowed down the feed and focussed on the other ships.

At the moment where the lightning began to flash, he clearly saw that the phenomenon hadn’t actually been a global occurrence. There appeared to be a circle of light surrounding each ship. It was hard to see because the one around Amandine was overshadowing the rest, but the difference between the circles and the night sky was definitely visible.

All circles pulsated a couple times before the ships began to... disappear outright. But there was a pattern there. First it was the ships on the most western part of the anchorage, and then it began to sweep the rest of them away like a wave. When it reached Amandine, the feed cut to static for just a third of a second, before being replaced by the morning sky that had greeted them a couple hours earlier.

As for the bridge cam, it showed Vadim collapsing at the time the ships began to disappear. The transformation (if it could be called such, one instant there was a human, and on the next frame there was a griffon in his place) only occurred after the feed cut to static, implying that there might be a gap that the instruments failed to pick up. The systems hadn’t rebooted during the incident so there really wasn’t any reason to believe an electromagnetic pulse had knocked out the power, but there still seemed to be a gap. Geert scratched his head, utterly baffled at the thing. He would have to bring it up with the Captain if he had already got a look at the cameras.

Still, that was impressive to see. One instant you've got something like five hundred thousand tons in total displacement worth of ships, all solidly anchored and well monitored. And the next thing you know they've all been swept away by magic sky circles. Aliens? Nah, not enough ass probes.

Geert took out a notepad from his breast pocket and added the cameras to his to-do list. It didn’t really help with figuring out the source, but the circles above the ships were certainly a worthwhile clue he should look into.

Maybe that with a bit of elbow grease he could transfer the files to a better processing system.

The newly parrot then found himself once again stuck alone with his thoughts. No. He thought. Got to keep himself busy else his thoughts begin drifting in a direction he didn’t wish to take. He pinched his beak in thought.

The passage graph to port? Sure it was only 20 nautical miles to port but he could make one. He brought out the folder with the charts on his computer screen... only to discover Alejandro had already made one with a premade algorithm. Damn that Spaniard was too smart for his own sake. Geert closed the laptop with a snort and gave a glare at the clock.

Two and a half hours to go... What to do then? He crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his thighs.

New shoes? Designed, and waiting for materials.

Cameras? Inspected, Captain already looking at it anyway.

Charts? All done by an excessively professional Chief Mate.

On the edge of his sight, he spotted a flicker of movement far off in the distance on the port side of the ship. He squinted and saw a couple grey shapes sink below the surface.

Looks like the seals were having fun. The ocean must be pretty quiet now that there are no more ships to cause excess noise. Cute little critters, they must be happy to have all the fish for themselves now.

Geert glanced down at his own lap. No, he definitely didn’t want to dwell on what was between his legs at the moment. His eyes drifted sideways and he rested his gaze on his feet.

Not an interesting subject, but still miles ahead of thinking about a dick-ripping time travel. He flexed his toes and observed as the claws balled in on themselves, forming a fist. Eh, maybe somewhere down the line he could figure out some practical use for those. He checked the instruments quickly, still nothing new but his pen by the screen drew his attention. His eyes hovered between it and his foot.

Welp, time to figure out if he’s right handed with his feet too.

A couple hours later on the ship, a meeting was taking place in the officers’ lounge. Unlike the cafeteria, which was decorated in a less frivolous manner, the lounge was a place of leisure that was reserved for the sole use of Officers. It had a small but well furnished bar, made out of well a dark varnished wood that also covered most of the walls. The rest were covered in a purple layer of fabric that gave the dimly lit room an even darker appearance. The lightning wasn’t improved by the fact that the room didn’t have any windows.

One side of the room was occupied by a large oak table surrounded by a comfortable couch. Most of the time they used it to host card games and liquor tastings, but tonight it was occupied by each of the ship’s head of departments: Chief Officer Mendoza, Chief Engineer Schmitt (a Luxembourgian now turned into a pale orange female dragon) and Chief Steward Farkas, the sphinx who was still nursing his wounds with his foreleg and forehead heavily bandaged. All were currently seated at the table (though for Farkas, it was more akin to lying on the seating due to his inability to really ‘sit’ like a human).

Besides them, there were two other people present in the room, those being the Boatswain, Artyom, who was leaning against the wall by the door, and the Captain himself standing in the middle of the room, now dressed with a properly adjusted shirt (with a collar that wasn’t threatening to tear up the instant he sneezed). He was leafing through a notepad, which, a moment later, he tucked in a pocket.

“Alright Gentlemen” Dilip intoned “Is anyone of you aware of why we’re gathered today?”

Everyone gathered at the table shook their head except for Artyom who just snorted, expelling a small puff of smoke in passing.

“Very well then, I’ve assembled you all tonight to assess the state of the crew and most importantly...” He halted for a second “To get your opinion on how things will go once we hit port.”

Artyom frowned at that statement.

“Captain with all due respect that question is worthless. We’re all suffering from the effects of the transformation at the moment...” He glanced at Schmitt and Farkas “Some worse than others, of course.”

The Chief Engineer stared back at the Russian dragon “While I appreciate the concern Artyom, you of all people should know that’s not our first time at sea. I personally ensured that everyone in Engineering was aware that even though the situation is pretty dramatic –that much I must concede- the ship does need to be kept running. Everyone is distraught, true, but we are all mature enough to put it past us for as long as it takes to get our job done.” He glanced at the rest of the assembly “Am I mistaken?”

“Not as far as my own department is concerned” Alejandro answered “It’s entirely correct even” He nodded towards Artyom “After helping Vadim with Farkas in the infirmary, we made some rounds to... sample the crew’s opinion, so to speak. Most of those that don’t have duties stick to their cabins, if they’re not smoking on deck. And trust me on that, going by the volume of cigarettes being smoked today, they are pretty stressed.”

Dilip frowned “That much I expected, what I really want to know on the other hand, that’s if this stress is likely to cause any issue down the line. Have you seen anyone who looked troubled enough that they could lash out?”

“No cap’ain” The Chief Steward said “The crewmembers, they have their own circles, if it’s not members of the same nationalities, then it’s friends they made during our voyages and co-workers from the same department. Trust me, earlier today the Chief cook was pretty pissed but Nguyen managed to talk him out of anything stupid. My point is... If we want to avoid any problem, then we’ve got to make sure they don’t isolate themselves. That would only make matters worse. As long as those circles stick together, they should make it through with their sanity well in check.”

The Captain nodded and paced around for a bit “I know people were already overloaded to begin with.” He began “But you guys really need to keep your departments under control at the moment. Presently, our margin of error for any kind of work is drastically reduced due to our equipment not being a good fit and us not being familiar with our own bodies. How did it go with the fire fighting equipment by the way?”

“Pretty bad” The Chief Engineer answered, “But still better than expected. We managed to refit the fire suits for use, but the breathing apparatus is a complete bust. Even with the species that have a shorter muzzle like the cats and dogs, the masks leak way too much. I’ve got guys looking into designs for that, but it’s delicate equipment so I doubt we can find a quick fix for it. And using them on beaks or long muzzles just doesn’t work, at all. I'm just gonna go a bit further with your 'being familiar with your body' thing. Don't you all find it odd that we can walk around at all? I mean, those changes are pretty drastic and while we all have difficulties with the finer details... Even I can walk around mostly fine, and I have to move around on four legs!”

“I try not to think to hard about it. Must be ingrained into us like breathing. You start thinking about it, then you stumble around like an idiot. Back to the masks, you really have nothing to make it work for now?”

“We make do with the chemical suits, if you put those on above the actual fire suit and breathing apparatus, then the leak is somewhat contained. The whole thing really isn’t practical however, and those suits aren’t made to withstand high temperatures. They are rated for 100 degrees tops. It’s good... but it’s not enough.”

Dilip nodded “Very well, let’s minimize the fire hazard then. I want you to cancel any operation of hot work or grinding until we have a fix, and put some more emphasis on fire prevention. The crew will find it annoying, but I’m afraid it’s necessary. For the dragons, I don't think I need to remind you both not to fuck around with the fire breath, if you even have it under control.” He looked at Farkas “Please notify the cooks that using the fryers in the kitchen is forbidden until further notice, and shut down the dryers in the laundry room. You may make use of the holds to air wet sheets and clothing. Understood?”

“Crystal clear Captain.” Farkas replied.

“Good. Before we go further and discuss what’s gonna happen in port, does any of you have anything to add?” He spotted the Boatswain making a subtle gesture at him. “Yes Artyom?”

The dragon stopped leaning against the wall and approached the centre of the room with a confident gait.

“I don’t want to undermine what’s being said about crew morale but I do need to remind everyone that there’s a factor we’ve been forgetting, and some of us” He gave the Chief Engineer a pointed look, which the other dragon returned in kind “Really should have mentioned it from the start. I’m talking about those on this crew that had their sex changed by whatever it is that happened earlier.”

“And your point is, Artyom?” The Captain inquired with a quizzical look.

“That I pride myself as being closer to the ratings of this crew than you officers, which is normal since I’m here to represent them. And from my observations, while I do agree that the male crewmembers have managed to swallow the pill and move on –at least as long as there’s work to be done-, I get a much more... dubious, I think the word is. Yes, a dubious vibe from the newly made females.”

The reaction was immediate from Schmitt, the Chief Engineer now a female dragon. He stood up from his seat and sent Artyom a scathing glare.

“And what is it exactly that you’re saying now?” He yelled, pointing an accusatory claw in his direction “Just because I got turned into a gal doesn’t mean I can’t do my job anymore!”

“That’s not what I meant” The Russian replied with a shake of his head. “What I mean, is that all, and I insist on all, that includes you Schmitt; of the crewmates that changed sex have been fervently pouring themselves into their work. And on this ship, Captain, that’s something I’ve seen a couple times.”

Dilip inclined his head and motioned to the dragon to keep going.

“Last time it happened? Thanasis, the oiler, just after his divorce. The time before? That was Nguyen when he learned his brother had a car accident on the other side of the world. My point? Each time I saw that, that was a man drowning himself in work to avoid thinking about a problem too much.”

Schmitt literally growled in response to what Artyom was saying.

“So now you’re accusing me of being irresponsible with my work uh? And do you even have a solution to that?! Like a fucking therapist?” He almost moved to jump over the table to get to Artyom but was stopped by Farkas putting a paw on his shoulder. The sphinx gave him a piercing look. Even wounded, the guy was unexpectedly strong.

“I don’t think violence is gonna help in any form with that issue.” The Greek said. “I can’t pretend we’re qualified for that kind of situation. Nor is anyone on this crew. But I can’t say that bottling it up and avoiding the problem will get you any further either.”

The female dragon faltered and stared at his own claws for a few moments before shaking his head and sitting back down. “Fine!” He growled out “I will gather the... female part of the crew and have a talk with them.” He turned his head towards Artyom with a fiery gaze and a trail of smoke coming out of his nostrils “That good enough for you? And I better not catch any of you treating us any different, else I throw him in the incinerator, got it?!”

“I think that will be plenty enough for now” The Captain declared. “And all hope is not lost either... If whatever it is that happened could change our shape like that, it can probably be undone.” The last part came out with a distinct lack of confidence that didn’t go unheard by the people in the room. “Is everyone satisfied with this decision?” Everyone gave him a firm nod, so he decided to go on. “Now as for what’s ahead of us once the mooring lines are in place. I think it can go two ways, from a general viewpoint. One; is that once we arrive we find activity. I don’t care if it’s human or creatures like we’ve become. Second; is that nobody is there when we arrive.”

“And between those two situations, what does that change for us?” Artyom inquired.

“If the port isn’t as deserted as the anchorage then we can use the company’s office to figure out a course of action, get some contacts, and find out what happened. If nobody’s there, then we’re stuck investigating on our own. And trying not to have the crew run off on their own.”

“Run off?” Farkas asked “You really think the crew will run off like that first chance they get?”

“That depends on whom.” Dilip admitted “I don’t think the Asians are going to leave, but the Europeans, they might want to go and check out what happened to their family. I don’t like it, but let’s face it. We don’t really have any right to stop them from doing that, and I would perfectly understand their decision.”

“And that would only happen if we don’t find anyone according to you?”

“Yes, my assumption was that if we find activity in port, then that means civilization is still present after today’s incident, and their families have a good chance to be safe. Failing that, I would expect them to take matters into their own hands and go see for themselves.”

Alejandro shook his head. “I don’t agree Dilip. Most of the guys on this ship have been working together for a while. Surely they wouldn’t just risk making their way across a deserted and possibly dangerous continent for a family that is very likely to be gone when they get there. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Not everybody reacts the same way Alejandro” Farkas piped up. “Some of these guys, they signed up to work a profitable job for a while before they got back to their families on land. I’d find it abnormal if they didn’t try to get in contact with them when they got the chance. They’re always calling them whenever they can when we're close enough to the shore.”

“You may be right, but that doesn’t mean I’m too happy at the thought of half the crew splitting up and going their own merry way in the middle of the apocalypse.” The parrot added.

“Yet that doesn’t give us the right to hold them here.” Artyom butted in. “And even if people ashore are fine, they will want to contact them and have every right to do so.” He looked at the captain. “And as soon as the ramp is down, they are technically free to go if they feel like it, regardless of what order you may give them.”

“Would you object to me giving a briefing about that Artyom?” Dilip asked “I know as the Captain I don’t have to go through you to do that; but you being a representative for the ratings, I’m going to ask you. Can I give them a short speech about their choices in port? I want to tell them they are free to strike out on their own and leave if they feel like it, but that I’d rather have everyone stick together until that situation is sorted out.”

The dragon raised his eyeridges at the request. That was a first coming from the Captain.

“Agreed. What will you tell them about their wages?”

“If we don’t find anybody you mean?” That whole assumption seemed more accepted than they were willing to let on “I’m ready to dig into the ship’s money supply to pay back the leavers... though I don’t think a wad of cash is really any help if the country is a desert.”

Artyom shrugged. “As long as they get their choice and they’re content with it. I don’t know about you but I don’t feel like leaving either. Now Captain, it’s up to you to convince them to stay. Was that everything we needed to discuss?” He ended his sentence by looking around the table at the assembled creatures.

Dilip gave him a firm nod and proceeded to walk off immediately in the direction of his quarters. The rest of the people in the crew looked at each other before following in kind, with the exception of Alejandro who stayed behind and pulled out a projector from under the couch.

End of the world or not he was gonna catch up on his favourite series.

Not too far from Amandine, a scream resonated in a warehouse, unheard by anyone but its source.

Author's Notes:

That's it for the boring anchorage stuff folks. Next chapter, the crew is hitting port and the pace should accelerate.