Laura opened her mailbox, brought the pile of envelopes to her kitchen counter, and sat them down with a small thunk. She slid open her garbage and started to leaf through them, tossing most into her recycling bin. She paused on a letter from Florida, addressed from Helen Chen-Morris. She slid her thumb under the glue and unfolded it. 

Dear Constant Laura,

Any number of things can go wrong on this gigantic cruise ship. That's what keeps me up at night. I'll wake up in a cold sweat and shake Alex. He'll grumble incomprehensibly. Something like a 'hrmblrf?' Then I'll tell him about my vivid nightmare of a toddler careening overboard and being swallowed by the churning wake of my 20 foot wide propellers. Seriously, the propeller is 20 goddamn feet wide.

Did I get your attention yet? Look, I am writing to ask for your help. I am on bended knee. We haven't seen each other in a long time. Too long, really. But what brings old friends together better than helping each other? Or at least I hope so.

So, after humping it through a few tours on aircraft carriers and getting a few command postings, I moved to the private world. Cruise ships. It turns out, they love me there. Who knew? I love it too. The chow is better and uniforms are cuter. There's usually less screaming and push-ups.

Maybe you saw the news articles. The puff pieces with a glowing headshot. I got a great job as the captain of a new luxury cruise liner. Great, right? Alex insisted on framing the cover of Puget Sound Business Journal with my face on it. It's obnoxious to have my own giant face in my uniform staring into our dining room, but kind of cute that he did all that. The press loved that I was the first woman cruise captain, and on the first nuclear powered cruise ship no less. As if having ovaries somehow changed how I would run a bridge.

But here's the problem, and where you come in. A captain is the 'buck stops here' of the whole operation. From food to sheet thread count to the medical bay to security. Since you spent, what, 10 years in the FBI and have your own kickass security company, I thought I would tap your shoulder for help.

I think a lot of people assume I know about security, because I spent time in the military. I was a Commander in my last posting, which is a step below Captain. The Master at Arms didn't report to me, and there weren't many of them on a carrier anyway. The people on a carrier are generally supposed to be there. The people who aren't supposed to be there are usually kept away by the carrier strike group. You know, 70 fighter jets, cruise missiles, and five inch guns tend to be a strong deterrent. That's the idea at least.

So, what do you say to a free 13-night cruise to Alaska with great internet, in exchange for a report with your findings and recommendations on our security practices? Ok, I'll level with you. It's okay-ish internet 80% of the time. But the food is amazing, which I think you will love. And I was able to get you a balcony suite. They're gorgeous rooms. We have a few stops at some great ports in Alaska, and we go all the way out to the Aleutians. Not many ships do that, at least from Seattle.

I asked our old college friend Andrew (Bagel Guy that always wore the orange hat) to do the same thing in exchange for his advice on our restaurants. I guess he runs a chain of fancy Mexican restaurants in Colorado now. Samir (the guy with the perfect stubble) went to medical school, so he's booked two cruises later to write up some recommendations on our medical bay. I'm tapping my network as much as I can. But, I want solid advice from people I really trust. People outside of the cruise ship bubble who will give me direction on how to make this the best ship it can be.

Will you think about it?

Yours,

Helen

P.S.: Did you know that ship captains aren't actually allowed to legally marry people? We were lied to by so many bad rom-coms. 

Laura folded the letter again. She shook her head and held it over her recycling bin, thinking about the million things happening at her busy new security firm. Then she paused, pulled a magnet from her fridge, and stuck the letter there for safekeeping.