Epilogue

And that’s the conclusion of the Tales of the Icelandic Troll. You see, in most ways, the crew you’ve met in these stories hasn’t existed for many, many years. They’ve grown up, and become slightly different. Better, in most ways, as good people tend to become. In the case of Captain Ryan in particular, they’ve become someone different indeed: Captain Cree. And that’s a good thing. Eventually, we all have the opportunity to meet the people we’re meant to be with – the friends, the loved ones, the families we make for ourselves. We never leave our old selves behind, of course, but we do become the people we’re supposed to be.

Oh, the crew of the Troll will continue on. Their histories, their spirits, and their simple energies are just too strong to stop. But they’re on their own, now. They’re living their own lives, and the people that they once represented have moved on to new adventures. The crew’s stories are now their own, and we can only hope they’ll share them one day.

For Captain Ryan, it’s meant finally meeting a woman – perhaps the only one on Earth – who’d share her video games, DVDs, and board games. Who’d be just as ridiculous, just as noble, just as fallible, just as stubborn, just as hard, and just as soft as himself. The person who made his eyes light up. The person who made him cry, but in a way that made him want to keep crying, in the best possible way. The person who, perhaps most tellingly, finally made Captain Cree a real person and not just an aspiration. His co-captain, his lady of the dark, his ice princess, his mermaid, his amore. And the sparkling, formidable Geronimo is a far more suitable vessel for her and her beau. Infinite diversity, in infinite combination.

For First Officer Stevenson… well, you’ve already met the person she was meant to be with. Engineer-slash-medical-officer Stevenson met his match, both on the mat and off. The two of them connected in exactly the right way. First Officer Stevenson was, as first officers must be, always the strong one. Always the one who, perhaps, never needed the Troll, but who was always game to keep the ship moving and to keep her crew within arm’s reach. She was in many ways our One Ring: the one to bind the crew, and the one to bring them all together. She’s our center.

Black Amy™? A late addition to our universe, to be sure, but one cherished by the crew. A pirate who marches to her own beat, a stripper who’s more likely to leave you naked than herself, and a person who’s proudly, defiantly, and deservedly earned the title of woman. Our little sister, and our hero, even when she’s a villain.

And as for Don… well, he found Chris. Or Chris found him. Whichever. But when that happened, Don stepped off the Troll to a new assignment that he’d always been preparing for, but never imagined would happen. Confidentiality agreements prevent him from sharing more, but suffice to say that, if life is a battlefield, he’s won a decisive victory.

For anyone who’s been on a ship, they know that stepping off never means leaving your former shipmates. It means maybe not seeing them as much, and it means maybe not hearing from them as much. But serving aboard the Troll isn’t something that leaves you lightly, and after all, that’s why reunions are a thing. From the earliest fleets, Navies have had a tradition of awarding the title plankowner to the men and women who sail a new ship, honoring them by letting them “own” one of the planks that made up the decks of the earliest wooden ships. The Troll only has scuffed linoleum and composite deck plates, not planks, but her plankowners share a bond no less lasting than the seafarers of old.

Icelandic Troll is a shabby, beat-up, proud ship. A ship not of the line, but of the heart. She carried us all through the beginnings of some of our toughest times. Sadly, we each had to leave her before we were ready, as was likely her intent. We each had our own battles to fight, our own wars to win; our own rescues to conduct and our own salvage operations to complete. Somehow, the ship knew that, and she put us off at what, in hindsight, was the perfect time. And when the time came for us all, collectively, to declare our victories, she was back to help us sail through one last, victorious journey. She reminded us that we may have been apart, but we were never truly separate. And in that spirit, she and her crew will always travel safely through the stars that we’ve always shared in our hearts.

The best friends have everything in common, and nothing. That’s why they become family, and that’s why some few lucky amongst them have sailed on the SS Icelandic Troll.

Thank you for joining our crew for these tales.