Time to Embark

You stop a Mariner on the way up to your own cabin. His dress is in some state and you order him to fix the worst. You are shaven clean and dressed well enough, but you step inside long enough to consult the mirror and to polish brass buttons and leather boots to a mirror sheen. A bell rings out; the time has come.

The Captain awaits, coffee in hand. She wears a dressing gown over her white night-shirt and answers your salute with a smile. ”First Officer. All is well, I hope?”