When morning rose on the 25^th, nothing else really happened to put the crew further off balance than it had been the day before. If most were a bit miffed that their transformation wasn’t actually a temporary thing, they had kind of expected to be stuck the way they were for a while. People grumbled, but everyone decided they preferred to keep their pride rather than wallow in self-pity. Work was cathartic enough for them.

By noon, everyone had managed to sort out their situation regarding clothing, even the sphinxes when someone spared the time to modify their coveralls for them. Those were a quick fix for someone with a sewing kit and some elbow grease. On the other hand, it went without saying that everyone was going commando under the bright orange suits, modifying clothes other their orange uniforms really was too much of a hassle. Plus the weather was warm enough already.

As for the shoes, a constant supply of caffeine had allowed Boris to push through with the modifications for the cats, dogs, dragons and griffons. The Russian griffon was now enjoying some well deserved rest in his cabin before the ship weighed anchor. A few hours in bed and he would be good as new to deal with the mooring. The other species were still in need of shoes though. It wasn’t a big deal for the minotaur and the hippogriffs because their hooves were quit sturdy (though they were clueless as to how far that resistance went), but it was much more of a problem for the four parrots on board, who all had to be very mindful of where they stepped lest they lose a toe.

To the insistence of Farkas, the Cooks organised a barbecue on the main deck to get all crewmen out of their cabins and force them to socialize a bit. The cloud cover had cleared up entirely and the weather was now perfectly sunny, with only some small mist banks having been spotted earlier in the morning. On a regular day, a good occasion to seize for some cheery meal with the crew. In those circumstances? A necessity to bring the crewmen out of hiding.

Rahul and Nguyen had set up a couple tables on trestles towards the back of the long deck, with the help of some guys from engineering who were having a walk outside. The meats had already been pre-cooked and only needed to be grilled for a bit before serving, so that was some time they could save to make food for the vegetarians of the crew.

“Say Rahul, think you can deal with setting up the grill? I’m gonna fetch the food now.” The Vietnamese cat asked his colleague.

“Sure, go ahead. That’s a load I won’t have to carry down the stairs.” The dog answered with a wave of his hand. He was busy setting up a hose in case the grilling went south. It never hurt to be careful.

What the cat didn’t tell was that he also wanted to bring the food by himself so that he could ‘correct’ Rahul’s choice of spices so to speak. The mutt had had the idea of making some honey sauce, but for some unknown reason had decided to add an ungodly amount of curry to the mixture. Sometimes he wondered what went through the Chief Cook’s head; the guy was literally unable to cook a single thing without dousing it with spices.

Any sane person knew lemons were always the best addition to a meal.

Up in the accommodation, Vadim was putting the finishing touches on his suits. He had torn apart one of his older set of coveralls to add a ‘sleeve’ at the back to fit his tail (rather important considering the flame resistant properties of the material), as well as adding some zippers on the back so that he could let his wings free if he ever needed them. Not really necessary, but he had an inkling that those wings would be of some actual use somewhere down the line. He just needed to spare the time to figure out how to make them work... A resource that was in unfortunately short supply for him as of late.

He even had managed to spare some time to remove the pinkie on his work gloves to make them look a bit less ridiculous, though he would have to be careful with his claws unless he wanted to fix the fingers every week or so. Still, that helped him avoid injuring his hands- er, claws that is- just by walking around on the ship’s rough surfaces, and having to wash his hands all the time.

Vadim checked the clock. 13.00. About time he got down to take his share of the barbecue otherwise he wouldn’t get anything in his stomach before they hit port. The engineers were due to begin with the starting procedures soon enough and if he heard correctly they wanted to go through the complete procedure instead of the shortened one. Eh, if it keeps them happy, so be it.

He put on his clothes above his scruffy coat of feathers. He probably should do something about it but he didn’t really know how to go about it. Birds don’t brush their feathers do they? If the Internet was still up when he got the time he would look into it.

Trying out the new shoes was a pleasant surprise for him. As much as he trusted Boris, he hadn’t expected the Russian to manage that good of a job with his work. Of course, there was some margin for improvement, but the result was more than enough to work safely. The soles had essentially been cut in the multiple segments to allow more flexibility for his feet, with some minute changes at the plant of the feet and around the laces to make them more comfortable and keep them tightly in place.

Vadim didn’t bother taking his jacket – the weather was warm enough outside- so he transferred his gear to his coveralls before putting on a harness above them. He also grabbed a copy of his mooring plan, his goggles and his ear protectors, which all went in his harness, accompanying a small number of tools. He was going to need those to get the lines in position for the mooring.

The griffon checked his gear one last time before heading out the door and down several stories to the main deck. He could have taken the lift, but the Captain tended to be very... partial towards using it for anything that wasn’t hauling stores, so he stuck to the stairs.

Whilst he had gotten somewhat used to moving around on all fours, Vadim still was a bit apprehensive of those stairs, and he perfectly understood how Farkas could have fallen the day before (the Chief Steward and the other sphinxes had thus been allowed to use the lift until they were properly acquainted with their new forms). They were much steeper than regular stairs, almost like ladders, and that’s how the Ukrainian chose to approach them.

Being a vehicle carrier, Amandine’s decks were essentially roads repurposed as parking space for the Lorries and cars she usually carried across the channel. The ‘main’ deck as they called it wasn’t actually the legal main deck but the highest car deck present on the ship, and the one most exposed to the elements. Usually, it was packed tight with trailers, but Amandine had been on a ballast voyage before jumping ahead in time, so they didn’t have any vehicle on board at the moment save for a couple forklifts and two tow trucks they used to move their supply containers around.

The deck was divided in two parts: the fore part was ahead of the castle and was thus entirely exposed, and the aft part (which housed the small inner ramp that allowed vehicles to go up and down the ship’s car lanes) that was sheltered on the sides by the accommodation, and that could be closed off by an as of now open hangar door.

The cooks had set up shop at the very stern of the ship, with their barbecue hanging over the railing, safely protected from the winds by a couple of well-placed sheets of metal. A couple benches and tables on trestles surrounded the cooks who were already serving food to the few crewmembers already present.

Vadim was quick to grab himself a serving of grilled beef and get himself seated with a couple guys from engineering, including the Second Engineer, Angelo, now a minotaur.

Said engineer had gained a considerable amount of bulk with his change, going from a geeky Greek guy to a hulking mass of muscles overnight. As he was dressed in coveralls (his being distinctly stained with oil) like almost everyone on board, Vadim couldn’t see too much of his pale grey fur, but he had a pretty good view of his large bovine head, boasting some pointy white horns poking out of his frizzy mop of hair, right besides the floppy ears.

Sitting next to the minotaur was one of the ship’s two gargoyles, as they had dubbed them (though there was some debate regarding whether they should be called satyrs instead). The being was a bipedal creature that would have stood at 1m50 upright, with a stocky build. He had some goat-like legs complete with black hooves. Vadim could see a tail poking out the seat of his pants, ending in a fork. It was lazily swinging back and forth behind its owner. A bulge in the back of his coveralls indicated that he, too, had been granted wings, though Vadim had yet to see them. His entire body except for the face was covered in ginger fur. He had a shaggy black mane going from the base of his neck to the top of his head, which was quite human save for a stubby snout. On either side of his face, you could see a large mobile ear and an antler timidly poking their way out of the mane.

“So how are things down in the engine room?” He asked distractedly as he took a bite of his meal.

“Thankfully, good.” The gargoyle answered curtly. He was called Nikola, a Bulgarian, if he remembered correctly. “It’s a good thing we had already gone through an overhaul recently, ‘cause otherwise we would be in some deep shit I tell you.” The guy continued without looking up from his meal.

“Really?” Vadim cocked his head “I would think that it being a relatively recent engine it shouldn’t cause too much trouble.”

“It’s not the engine that’s bothering us” Angelo shook his head, missing the fact that his impressive rack of horns came dangerously close to goring his table mates. “The problems are coming from the pumps... Both the cooling and fuel pumps actually. We had to replace them recently and the engine controls are still set for the previous models, so they tend to be a bit capricious until we adjust it in the computer. That, and we haven’t entirely worked out the relation between rpm and feed rate yet, so we are stuck to managing it manually for now.”

“And that’s annoying as all fuck...” The gargoyle muttered.

“And I second that!” His minotaur colleague added “Plus there’s only Aleksei that can use the automation program correctly in engineering, and the guy codes like ass.” Angelo caught the pointed stare from Vadim “Eh, I’m not dissing him freely!” He raised his hands defensively “He admitted himself that was he does with the program is mostly throwing shit at the wall and see what sticks.”

“If you say so” The griffon shrugged “Still, will it be alright with the engine start this afternoon?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry about that. We’re manning the engines fully, so everything is under control, even if we’re short one guy until we figure out how to make sphinxes work.”

“Remind me once, who’s the guy? I can hardly put faces on creatures with that transformation...”

“Thanasis” Nikola said, taking a sip from a can of soda “Fella’s been acting pretty pissed off since he lost his hands. Last I checked he was using his mouth to get by... But I hardly think that’s a solution with the amount of grease we’ve got down there.”

“Makes me glad I still have hands...” Angelo added sombrely, giving his plate an empty look.

“Oh come off it now!” Vadim barked at the minotaur and gargoyle “You’re both close enough to human at least, at least you don’t have to deal with walking on all fours all over the place. Lemme tell you that gives you a new insight on keeping the floor clean.”

Nikola shrugged “Eh at least we all got to keep our dick.”

“True that” Angelo nodded sagely. “How is it going with Micha by the way Vadim?”

“Still bad, but better since Schmitt got them all together for a talk. I have no idea what they said, but he’s been sulking a lot less. Seems to hang around with the cadet a lot too.”

“What, the cadet got turned too? Shit mate, that’s more people swapping genitals than I thought. How many?” Nikola asked.

“Nine of them.” He answered, garnering dismayed comments from the rest of the table. “I know, a third of the crew, could be worse still.”

“Could be better too.” Nikola countered, jabbing his fork in Vadim’s direction.

“Well unless you’re willing to go and pray to every God in existence, dipshit, then you’re just stuck that way.” Vadim countered. “Like it or not we’re stuck with that and last I checked we don’t really have anything to deal with it.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “Honestly, I’d rather make do with the hand I was given than go bitching ‘bout how depressed the situation makes me.”

“The sage has spoken!” Angelo shouted. “On another note, I’d really like to be able to taste that honeyed meat you’re all eating but...” He frowned “Should I be worried about wanting to eat beef?”

“Cannibal” Nikola blurted out jokingly “Though you ain’t missing much” He eyed his food distastefully “For some reason Nguyen felt it wise to add lemon and didn’t bother stopping Rahul from putting in his goddamn curry.”

“Still better than the cinnamon rice.” Vadim commented.

“Yeah, barely.” Nikola waved a hand towards Angelo’s plate “At least they didn’t mix recipes with your grilled veggies.”

The minotaur snorted at the comment and, with nobody bothering to pick up the conversation from there, the trio fell to eating in silence for the rest of the barbecue. After a while, they all parted ways, with Vadim going to make his checks on the winches.

A few hours later, all the engineers were assembled down in the engine control room. The time had come to start up the engine and get the ship going.

The place was divided into two rooms. One was an office that had the ladder leading up to the accommodation. It featured a couple work stations with computers and a large amount of shelves that were filled with all the paper logs and manuals required to operate the behemoth of an engine that propelled Amandine. It wasn’t really decorated in a particular manner, instead focussing on a very utilitarian aspect. Nevertheless, the crew had seen fit to decorate the walls with some motivational posters and playboy calendars; as well as one very necessary coffee machine. On one end of the room was a stairway that led even deeper in the bowels of the ship, to the control room.

That room was very different from its direct neighbour by being covered in control boards and monitors that showed every nook and cranny of the engine and the generators. Most of the panels lining the walls were colour-coded in a very specific manner so that the engineers would easily find the control overrides for each and every system required to operate the ship. One wall of the room sported a thick glass panel that overlooked the engine itself, and the central control computers were situated just in front of that window.

Beside the window was the access to the airlock that gave access to the engine room itself. It was the only access possible beside a ladder that ran inside the funnel. There were some racks for the hearing protectors they used to go down in the engine, each being equipped with a small radio so they could still communicate over the deafening noise of the engine. One object of note was a small board attached to the airlock’s door that indicated whether there was someone in the engine room or not.

Even through the bulkhead and with the engine shut down, you could still easily feel the vibrations from the generators. For now it was rather mild, and the ventilation kept up with the heat that was building up, but once the engine was on it would easily rise past 35 degrees Celsius on a cold day.

At the moment, all three officers were seated at the control stations with their headsets on, ready to receive the ‘go’ from the bridge and begin the procedure. Behind them, the ratings were standing, each of the four ready to go down in the engine for an intervention the moment their superiors gave the order, though Thanasis the sphinx didn’t expect to be able to do much at all.

“Bridge this is engine room, we are ready to begin start-up procedure, over” Schmitt, the Chief Officer, voiced through his mic.

“Engine room, this is the Second Officer on the bridge, all teams are in place to begin departure from anchorage. The teams on line today will be the Second Officer on bridge and the Third Officer on anchor winch, the Captain shall oversee but will NOT partake in the manoeuvre, over.” The voice of Micha rang out a couple seconds later through their headsets.

“Roger bridge, communications in engine room will be handled by the Chief Engineer today. Ready to begin procedure on your mark, do you have any further request, over?”

“Engine room this is anchor winch” Vadim’s voice came through the radio “We require that you start the deck cleaning pump too. Motive : we need to clean the anchor as we pull it up, over.”

“Engine room to anchor winch, that’s a wilco, over.” Schmitt answered, and then turned to one of the ratings behind him, a parrot. “Carlos, can you go down and open cleaning valve A? Leave it at 50% since he’s only using one hose I bet. We will start the pump once you’re done.”

“Aye sir.” The parrot nodded firmly and moved towards the airlock.

“Alright now,” Schmitt turned back to his console “What’s the pressure in the hydraulic circuit?”

“120 bars, steady.” Angelo answered after flicking through a few menus on his console.

“Raise that to 250 and check the pressure in the compressed air tank. We’re gonna start off with the steering.”

“Air tank is at full pressure, 300 bars ready to be used, all pipes are purged so we’ve got 5 or 6 starts before starting the compressor again” Aleksei, a female hippogriff and the third engineer, said.

“Good, now start feeding some pressure to the steering pumps, then we can try out the actuators’ response.” He paused to push the button on his mic. “Engine to bridge, we are beginning start up on the steering gear, shutting off your access to the helm for now, over.”

He barely paid any attention to the answer he got from the other end of the line. He was already busy activating the valves to deliver some pressure to the anchor winch. Remote control really was a boon to their operations. The dragon looked through the window down in the engine room.

“Say Aleksei, did you run some lubrication on the engine as usual?” He asked.

“Correct sir. Ran the crankshaft a couple times and checked it myself. All in order, self-lubrication circuit already running too.”

Carlos came back from the engine room and told them the valve was now open, so Angelo started the cleaning pump before telling the winch team their gear was ready.

“Steering pump has now reached working pressure and is holding steady” The minotaur beside Schmitt said “I went ahead and put the emergency power unit in standby too.” He added.

“Begin rudder response test and keep monitoring pressure in that part of the system.”

“Copy that” The minotaur replied as he took hold of a small wheel that looked awkwardly small in his large hands “Beginning test of the flaps in three, two, one,... now.” He said, with his eyes riveted to the screen in front of him.

Considering the ship was at anchor, the reaction on the heading was barely noticeable and quickly corrected by the current in any case.

“Flaps response time is in the green, no loss of pressure, proceeding to test of the main actuator.” Angelo intoned flatly.

This time, the ship moved a bit more when the engineer moved both rudders on either side of the vessel, but that was of little of little importance for them, only being an indication of the strong current present in these waters.

“Steering test clear, all green, ready to transfer helm control back to the bridge” Angelo announced his superior.

“Engine to bridge, steering gear ready to use, transferring control now. Proceeding with test of propeller pitch control, over.” With a gesture of his hand, the dragon Chief Engineer indicated to his colleague to begin the tests on the propellers.

While Angelo was busy with the props, Schmitt himself was switching on the pumps for the cooling circuits that kept the main engine from burning out. It was simply a matter of re-routing some water since the system was already running for the electric generators. On the other side of the minotaur, Aleksei was priming the fuel system and bringing fuel to the main engine, being careful to keep it at the right temperature lest the dense fuel start congealing in the pipes. The hippogriff ordered a rating behind them to go check the fuel mixture at the filter.

“Working pressure reached in both pitch control pumps, test done, both propellers are responding correctly to telegraph orders.”

“Switching pitch control to the bridge, now.” Angelo flicked a switch on his console. “How is it going with the main engine, Aleksei?” He questioned.

“Fuel temperature is good, pumps are primed and ready for a first start, got 2.5 bars built up on the fuel lines at the entry point.” The hippogriff frowned at his screen. “Hold on, can’t find the temperature gauge for the engine block... Ah, there it is, ready to go too, are the cooling lines ready?”

Schmitt finished opening the right valves for the fresh water circuit that came in direct contact with the engine.

“The seawater lines are ready for the heat exchanger but I’m still building pressure on the fresh lines, wait a moment, I need 5 more bars to get the right flow.”

While they were waiting for the last preparations before trying their first start of the engine, a rating came back and gave them the green light with the filter. Not that surprising since they had been replaced and cleaned recently.

If it weren’t for being transformed into mythical beings the procedure would be almost boring. Schmitt scratched the side of his snout distractedly with his claw. He had had to dull those to avoid scratching the many touch screens present in the control room, but they still made for some nifty tool when it came to relieving itches.

“Bridge to Engine, confirming that we have pitch and rudder control. Permission to set pitch to desired values? Over.” Micha asked over the intercom radio.

“Negative bridge; leave the propeller in neutral until you have full telegraph control.” Schmitt answered. He eyed the pressure on the cooling line. “We are about to start up the engine. Will tell you when you may use the pitch control. Over.”

The dragon then pulled out a folder from below his seat and gave his checklist a cursory look. Yeah, all details had been checked. He turned towards Thanasis and asked the sphinx to fetch him the Engine Log so that he could register having gone through the list before engaging the start.

Good thing is, if he gave the sphinx things to do, that should keep his morale up and make him feel like less of a burden due to his lack of hands.

A minute later, the rating was back with the folder held in his mouth. He passed it to his superior who filed the documents for the start before signing it.

“Alright, ready for start. Angelo, bring the camera for the funnel on screen, I want to see if the scrubbers are running correctly.”

The Chief Engineer then selected the control to engage the engine on his screen. The computer ran a quick check by itself before asking him if he wanted to proceed. He flicked the safety off of the start switch. His claw hovered over the command.

“Engine to bridge, starting engine in three... Two... One... Mark.” He turned the switch.

The ship rumbled as the massive pistons got into motion. The dragon slowly increased the throttle, his eyes switching between looking at the engine through the window and his screen where he had brought up the rpm indicators.

“Aleksei keep an eye on the fuel pumps; make sure we don’t starve the engine.”

“Fuel intake remains steady sir, looks like we’ve got the correct values for that rpm. Or close enough at least...” He adjusted the rpm on the pump. “There, stable. We were off by twenty rotations by minute on that one.”

“Good, you keep an eye on those for the rest of your watch.” He turned to his other engineer “Angelo, switch on the main engine’s generator, turn off both of the diesel gens but keep one in standby just in case.” He turned to the ratings. “Carlos, Thanasis, you’re with Angelo to inspect them after shutdown, got it?” They nodded. He pressed the button on his mic “Engine to bridge, we are now transferring control of the engine telegraph to you. Remark: limit changes in engine rpm and favour propeller pitch controls for changes in speed.” He paused. “We are experiencing moderate difficulties with fuel intake controls, changes in rpm run the risk of starving or choking the engine, warn the engine room before any significant change. Engine, out.”

He gave a quick glance at the funnel camera. No sign of a particularly bad combustion, and the colour indicated the scrubbers were running correctly.

“Bridge to engine, we are now in control of the manoeuvre. Thank you and have a good watch, out.”

“Excellent” Schmitt said out loud. He turned towards the two other ratings he hadn’t addressed yet. Nikola the gargoyle and John, a Filipino turned into a pastel yellow female hippogriff with dark red feathers. “You both, come with me, we’re going to the bow and get the bow thrusters ready for entry into port.”

Saying that, he stood up and walked off without waiting for their acknowledgment.

Up on the surface, a plume of smoke erupted from the funnel. Amandine was roaring to get back underway, and her Officers were all too happy to oblige. Vadim turned on the winch and the anchor chain started to be pulled back into the ship, passing through a strong stream of water that cleaned the sand and mud off of it, courtesy of the hose the Third Officer had set up beforehand.

Within minutes, a crewman was putting the brake in place on the winch and securing the anchor. Vadim signalled the bridge they were good to go with a wave of his claw, and Micha gunned the throttle. Below the surface, the propeller blades inclined themselves from their neutral position and started pushing on the water.

Amandine veered on a southerly course and passed between the buoys marking the limits of the anchorage as well as the access to the safe dredged channel that avoided the potentially hazardous sandbanks littering the area. There was a strong tidal current of about 4 knots if the instruments were to be believed, but it was nothing against the powerful engine of the modern vessel that cut through the waves with little to no difficulty.

Up on the bridge, Micha allowed a smile to grace his features. It always felt amazing to him, directing such a colossus of a vessel. The female griffon ordered the helmsman (Boris the russian griffon in this case) to alter course eastward after they passed a buoy. They were now well and truly engaged in the channel, and would reach port in as little as two hours.

Even though they were out of visual range of the shore at the moment, Micha could see its outline appearing on the radar, which also showed the wind farms North-East of Amandine. The GPS was still giving them an accurate position, so there was no cause of worry about that; but the receiver for maritime transponders (the AIS) failed to pick up any signal, nor did the radio.

They still were alone in those waters. Not a single ship or coast station active. All there was beside them were seagulls and seals. He sighed.

Better hope searching the port yielded better results.

An hour later, the boat team assembled on the poop deck. Amandine was approaching the last track of her passage before entering port and they all had a couple minutes left to run the last checks on the system before dropping off the boat and sailing ahead.

The team was made up of Danny, a Filipino turned into a female parrot (a golden parakeet to be precise) as the boat’s pilot, Boris the Russian griffon and Ioan, the youngest rating on board, now a blue-grey gargoyle with a black mane.

Vadim was inspecting each of them for flaws in their gear before allowing them to board the boat. Each was outfitted with an inflatable life jacket harness, for which the CO₂ cartridges had been thoroughly inspected beforehand.

The Third Officer handed Boris a walkie-talkie fitted with a headset.

“Alright, all checks are done, painter line in place, crew gear ready. Boris, you remember which quay we’re aiming for right?”

“That I do, berthing place 1, a ro-ro terminal, can’t miss it since it’s next to the leading lights.” The griffon tapped a pocket on the breast of his sea vest “In any case I noted it on my chart of the port. We still have no contact with port control?”

“Negative” Vadim shook his head “The entry lights are green, but the radio isn’t active. Try to look for signs of activity if you can, but don’t take risks... We don’t really know what happened, so it could be risky. Did Alejandro give you our little secret yet?” He asked his question at a barely audible volume, just loud enough that only the other griffon could hear him.

The Officer was referring to the captain’s revolver, a .38 caliber that was usually kept safely in the ship’s vault in case of emergencies. Having it worn by a crewmember entering a port was, of course, highly illegal, but after much discussion between the officers, they had deemed it necessary that the line handlers be armed.

The rest of the boat crew didn’t actually know about the revolver hidden in a holster beneath Boris’ coveralls. For all intents and purposes, they were only packing a taser (carried by Danny) and some pepper spray, which would already be considered a bit much in normal circumstances. Having a gun on board in European waters at all would raise eyebrows in the industry. Fortunately, Captain Prateek was particularly adept at gaining favours with harbour authorities.

Boris gave his superior a firm nod and secured his headset on his head before putting on his helmet.

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t my idea to get in a highly secure port which includes a chemical terminal as well as a navy base with a concealed weapon, got it?” He told Vadim “That’s just a shit idea and I really don’t intend to go around pumping people full of lead.”

“Yeah but if we what we expect with the lack of activity is correct, then the situation could be dangerous and potentially lethal.”

“Sure you think it’s gone all apocalypse-like ashore, I get it.” The Russian said “And I trust you with that” Vadim gave him a doubtful look “Really I mean, but on the chance that you’re wrong, need I remind you of how the local law enforcement has been since all the terror attacks recently? And how do you think they would react to a Russian citizen” He pointed a claw to himself for emphasis “Strolling in one of their ports packing a concealed gun?”

“Badly, I know, and we will back you up if shit goes down. But we’d rather you have it and don’t need it than the alternative.” He pointed in the direction of the approaching port, still just a speck on the horizon (which, by the way, they could see in a very detailed way, those griffon eyes weren’t so bad) “Plus, do you see any kind of movement over there? We checked, their radar tower isn’t even on.”

Boris muttered something in Russian under his breath.

“It’s fine, I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, just that I didn’t like it, got the difference, sir?” He said.

“Good.” The Ukrainian concluded before grabbing his radio. “Bridge, this is boat davit, how long until we reach the drop off point? Over.” He asked.

“Bridge to davit, twenty minutes to drop off. Are all checks done and the boat crew ready? Over.” Micha asked over the radio.

“Davit to bridge, davit controls are manned by yours truly, the crew is geared up and ready, painter line in place, awaiting authorisation to swivel the davit and have the crew board the craft, over.” He answered. Now to play the waiting game.

And right on cue, twenty minutes later, when they were much closer to the port, Micha gave them the authorisation to deploy the fast rescue boat.

Amandine slowed her speed down to about 6 knots and altered course ever so slightly so that the boat would be dropped off on the lee side.

With the crane that acted as the davit, Vadim lifted the boat off its rack and lowered it next to the railing. The boat crew mounted their craft, and Boris gave Vadim the thumbs up (claw up? Eh, why did he even bother thinking about changing those expressions...) to lower it.

A griffon crewmember signalled him when to halt the crane. He looked over the railing to see Danny going through the last checks and testing out the engine. The parrot signalled him, he was ready to deploy.

A single press on the crane control dropped the boat the rest of the way to the water. The automatic release hook did its job and, after untying the painter line, Danny gunned the engine and left Amandine behind on his way to the port.

“Amandine fast rescue boat to Amandine, boat deployed, you are clear to resume your initial course and speed, FRB out.” Boris said over the radio.

“Amandine to FRB, roger and good luck, over.” Micha answered before applying more pitch to the propellers, pushing Amandine back to her initial approach speed of 10 knots.

Up on the bridge, Micha was discussing how they would go about their manoeuvre with the Captain. Next to them, Geert was listening intently, interested in finding out about a possibly new technique.

About 5 cables before the ship passed the breakwater, Micha ordered the helmsman to decrease speed by half. If he wanted the manoeuvre to work correctly, they would need to exploit the whirlpool situated right on the entrance into the port.

He checked the controls for the bow thrusters. It would be needed too, because he wanted to turn the ship fast enough that her inertia would carry her stern first out of the whirlpool and towards their berthing place without having to give much in the way of reverse thrust. He was feeling confident; the Captain had been made aware of the intended manoeuvre and approved it, now it was just a matter of putting it into action.

“One cable to breakwater” The helmsman intoned.

Micha braced himself on his console with one claw hovering over the bow thrust control. Moment of truth, he thought, making port entry without the compulsory tugboats. He eyed the edges of the breakwater. Three, two...

“Starboard 15. Full ahead on port prop, full astern on starboard prop.” He ordered sharply.

The helmsman repeated his order and the ship began swinging within seconds with a delicate application of bursts from the bow thrusters.

The griffon officer kept a close eye on the ship’s heading and the quays beside them. When the ship turned sufficiently, he ordered the rudders back to midship and both propellers on a backward pitch. They still had a couple degrees to turn but the inertia carried the ship the rest of the way, with just a small overshoot that he was quick to correct with some push from the bow.

A quick glance at the chart screen told him they were on the exact planned track. Perfect. He told the helmsman to release his control over the wheel, now was the time to move to the port bridge wing and oversee the more delicate part of the approach.

Right beside him, the Captain was looking around with a frown. Micha might have missed it because he was busy with his manoeuvre, but he paid a close attention to the state of the port. And it was... odd.

For one there was almost no ship present in port, and all those that he could see were clearly inactive and devoid of any personnel. Those were all smaller vessels which weren’t always manned like tugs and supply barges. And some old minehunters in the navy section of the port too, he noted.

So all of the vessels that saw continuous activity had disappeared.

Furthermore, the quays too were bereft of activity. Not a single soul to be seen. Nada, zilch. The only presence was the orange specks next to their destination, the boat team. At least these guys had found their way to the quay, and remembered not to park in Amandine’s spot. That would have been amusing to explain on the radio, the dog thought.

Dilip observed his subordinate carefully guide the thirty-four thousand tons ship towards the pier. Stressed as he might be, the griffon was doing a good job. He didn’t understand why he always got so worked up over manoeuvring if he could do it correctly like he was doing now. Particularly considering how he always stuck to procedures like glue.

Actually the... uniqueness of this approach might be why his Second Officer was behaving like that, what with it straying away from normal procedures.

The ship was now a dozen meters away from the quay, moving at a crawl towards the shore. On either end of the ship, Alejandro and Vadim were directing the line handlers to their positions.

Micha brought Amandine parallel to the quay, and just far enough from the end of the pier that they could make use of the stern ramp. The Second Officer put the rudders in position for a transverse thrust and started gunning the throttle in short burst. Combined with the bow thrusters, it slowly began to push the ship the rest of the way.

With a very soft thud, Amandine gently came to a rest against the berth’s rubber fenders. From his position next to Micha, Dilip observed the lines being tossed ashore and hauled to the bits, ensuring the ship would be held tightly in place.

The operation, Dilip was glad to see, only took the crew a few minutes before all lines were in place and secured.

Not bad for a crew that was dealing with a loss of humanity. He gave Micha a soft tap on the shoulder and congratulated him on a job well done before making contact with the engine room via the intercom. He told them to switch over to the diesel generators again and to prep the stern ramp for opening. They weren’t going to open it yet, but he wanted it ready ASAP.

He checked his watch. 18.50. The sun was still high up in the sky.

On the poop deck, some crewmembers deployed the pilot ladder to allow the line handlers back on board. All were felicitated for a job well done; and Boris passed by the bridge to give back his gear (and the revolver, which he discreetly slipped to Micha when the rest of the boat crew wasn’t looking).

“Anything left to do, sir?” His Second Officer asked him.

“Did Boris secure the FRB?”

“Aye” Micha twirled a set of keys in his claws “Got the keys over there, as for the boat; it’s moored and hidden under a tarp on the other side of the car terminal.”

“Very well, take the keys and the... you-know-what back to the vault. Remember to unload it too.” The Indian dog checked his watch “Have the crew gathered in the cafeteria by 20.15, I need to make an announcement.”

“Understood Captain, do you wish to have dinner delivered to your quarters?”

“Negative” He shook his head. “I need to think for a bit. I will do the shutdown procedure for the instruments myself. Just go and enjoy your meal.” He said, waving his paw vaguely.

The younger griffon departed with an enthusiastic ‘thank you cap’ain!’, leaving the old captain to his thoughts.

The Captain walked over to the port bridge wing, enjoying the feel of a soft breeze on his fur. He leaned over the railing and levelled his gaze towards the other side of the harbour.

There was a lit window in one of the buildings on the navy base.

Author's Notes:

Looks like I finally brought the ship to port, that took a lot longer than expected, but now the pace should pick up somewhat.
For the engine startup procedure, please take it with a pinch of salt, I'm a deck guy, not an engineer.
Here's a drawing of Amandine's route in this chapter
And here is a link to Amandine's crew list, and the data sheet I have for her.