Emma packed her bag with mere minutes to spare. It didn't surprised her that after two years out of Cosmofleet she still remembered what to bring: the essential clothes, personal comlink and tablet, and a few hand-drawn pictures Henry sent with her. She always packed light, a trick she picked up from her days in the foster system. The need to retain few possessions sort of carried over into her adulthood. She wasn't going to complain. Checking one bag at the airport cut back on a shipload of waiting in line.
If Emma were in a joking mood she'd say everything fit in the duffle besides Henry. With him that was all she needed, all she wanted. Anything missing or forgotten could be supplied by the Storybrooke, but it wouldn't replace the loved ones you left behind on Earth. The ship, despite it's ranking in her life as a second home filled with friends and colleagues, just didn't allow her the one thing in her life she couldn't live without. Damn the fleet and their rules.
With zero time to wave goodbye to her home planet, Emma jumped the last shuttle to Storybrooke. The ride there couldn't have been longer. It was amazing, really, the number of doubts that ran through her head. She spent the whole time chewing at her nails and worrying about whether this was a stellar idea.
Technically, even if she aborted the shuttle captain didn't have the clearance to turn back. The guy's just doing his job – get the recruits into orbit, dock with Storybrooke, and return to surface. If Emma really wanted to abort she could just incapacitate the shuttle officers, swipe a blaster, and threaten the captain to turn back, but that might put her in a bad position, not to mention the brig.
If Emma was resuming her role as first officer, she couldn't very well co-command 400 crew members with a slew of bad thoughts in her head. She had to step up and become what these people needed her to be. So in the 15 minutes it took the shuttle to arrive at the docking station Emma had to do a mental overhaul on her priorities.
The captain's voice came through the speaker to inform passengers that they had made berth with the Storybrooke. The shuttle filled with chatter, both nervous and excited. Most of them were cadets fresh out of the academy while other recruits had only seen a few months of action.
As the passengers fidgeted in their seats, waiting for the green light to board, Emma leaned over her armrest to check the view out her porthole. All she could see was a silvery white hull and a cascade of flashing lights that directed the shuttle towards its dock. The surface of the hull shined like brand new. If one were to do an EVAC inspection and give the exterior a good bashing with a spanner it would come away smooth and polished as before. If the hull wasn't comprised of durasteel, the crew would be more hesitant about going into battle than if they weren't protected by the super strong material.
To any civilian, the silver hull filling her viewport was as mundane as a scrap of metal heading for the garbage compactor, but to Emma it was so much more. After nearly a year of living onboard, she knew every corner and crevasse. The smells, the sounds, the gag-tastic taste of Leroy's home brew… Anyone who lived there long enough to call it home could recognize it out of a thousand of its class.
She remembered back to her first shuttle ride out to the Storybrooke. Emma's eyes had glazed over the lines and grooves of the hull that made it incomparable to any other. She experienced the same thrill at becoming a part of this famous starship. It sang through her veins like adrenaline.
To this day, the Regal-class ship was still tasked with the riskiest missions assigned to any fleet vessel. Its accomplishment rate was second to none. And it rivaled other ships not only in its ability to carry out operations but in its construction too. The Storybrooke was fitted with the lightest and strongest metals known to their solar system and powered by a state-of-the-art sublight drive. Emma would bet her life savings that it still flew like a thing of beauty. After 30 years of service the Storybrooke had a lot left in her. Emma just hoped she could personally ensure them to the old girl.
When she heard the dull clank of the docking clamps locking in place, she shook off sentimentality and dried her palms on her jeans. Like her first shuttle arrival, Emma experienced a twinge of anxiety. Would she be welcomed with open arms? Or would the Storybrooke and its crew continue to resent her last departure? It had been two years since she'd seen most of them. All bets were off.
Given the all clear, the recruits walked single file through the umbilical taking them from the shuttle through the docking station. From there a senior officer led them into a yawning hanger filled with a team of starfighters, two shuttles, and mounds of equipment and cargo.
Emma trailed from behind, hand stuffed in her pockets, and resisted the urge to chuckle. The recruits were so green their jaws were welded to the floor.
They managed to form their lines despite the need to take in every inch of the monstrosity surrounding them. They squabbled amongst each other to get the best spot at the head of their lines, not aware that the captain would move between the rows to scrutinize every single face.
Emma rolled her eyes.
Their faces turned ashen at the hiss of a hatch opening. Before any of them had the chance to toss their cookies, they clicked their heels together on instinct. Yes, meeting one's commander for the first time had a tendency to turn one's stomach.
Lieutenant Commander Swan, the only exception to those nerves, hung back from the two parallel lines arranged for the captain's arrival. Their structured, tight positions were to please her, and sure enough, Captain Mills smiled, pleased. She walked into the hanger, hands clasped behind her back. When she reached the end of their lines she stopped with a click of her boot heels. She breathed in for a moment, tilting her chin up as if to give them all a good look at her (or was she getting a good look at them?).
"I hope you all had a pleasant flight," the captain began with a widening of her red-tinted lips. "You are the last shuttle to arrive, though not the least important. No matter your rank or duty it is a privilege and an honor to serve aboard this stately vessel. You will be working amongst a diverse group never before enlisted in Cosmofleet. We are of different minds, colors, religions, and species. We all have unique perspectives to lend to a mission. You will be collaborating with skilled technicians and field officers, doctors and nurses, cooks and janitors… I can go on but I don't want to keep you here all week. Every one of us has a purpose. Every one of you is encouraged to grow beyond expectation."
Drawing a breath, Captain Mills scanned up and down the lines as if she were hunting for a target. Whatever, or whomever, she was looking for didn't appear, so she sniffed and began her slow, meticulous walk down the lines.
"If you have not recognized my significance by now: I am Captain Regina Mills, your new commanding officer. I expect each and every one of you to go above and beyond –"
Blah, blah, blah, Emma thought to herself as she crossed her arms.
As the captain droned on, Emma hung in the background, leaning back against a cargo crate. She got comfortable by crossing her ankles and settling her eyes on something interesting like one of the fighters' exhaust vents. Having been through this orientation before, Emma knew how long the captain dragged out a welcome speech. Unlike the straight standing recruits, she didn't pay much attention to the words. Instead, Emma took the time to study the captain.
The first thing that struck her was Regina's beauty. It had been there before, of course – the beauty, that was. Anyone with eyes and a limbic system could register the woman's attractiveness on the supernova end of the spectrum. Regina had these smoky brown eyes that drew you in whether you liked it or not. Emma had caught herself on several occasions staring at her boss with her jaw hanging open like a monger fish. It wasn't all her fault. The captain could make things a little less distracting by not wearing clothes that hugged every subtle curve of her bodice, hips, and calves. Consequently, it would be less intimidating to Emma who couldn't look that hot if she tried.
But she was beautiful in other ways, too: the way she walked, tall and proud; the honeyed timbre of her voice which could shock fear into trembling hearts or shivers along the arms that dreamed of holding her. Regina possessed mounds of talent in all areas taught at the academy and displayed so in her command style. Her ingenuity had no match in or outside the fleet. She was the very definition of tact, integrity, and perseverance. What made her feared gave her strength. What made her celebrated gave her confidence. People hated her as much as they loved her. She knew all too well, and yet rarely did it affect the way she carried out her duties.
Sometimes the great commander faltered. Sometimes she failed. People died, families buried loved ones, and grief was the only companion that stayed. A hand gripped so long on power didn't loosen easily. A heartbroken woman didn't forgive and forget without her revenge having been sated. Regina Mills wasn't perfect. If one looked close enough they'd see the frayed edges, the worry lines, the ghosts in her shadow, haunting her at every step.
Emma knew first-hand how flawed Regina could be. It's what drew her to the captain, still. Imperfection always came with a bit of mystery. It laid hints like bread crumbs, daring and teasing one into a spiraling black hole. There, in Regina's black hole, Emma found darkness but also a bit of starlight.
"… Above all it is paramount that you do not disobey a direct order from me or your senior officers. I do not allow dissent aboard my ship…"
Oh, Emma thought. That was a big one. Regina didn't take insubordination well. At all. Emma had learned that the hard way.
Slouched against the crate, Emma tipped her head to watch the captain walk between the rows. Every boot heel in front of the other struck the floor with purpose. She held herself with poise; chin level with the ground, eyes narrowed challengingly into those that dared stare back. Regina scanned each recruit she passed, checking the shine in their boots, the crisp cuffs of their uniform sleeves, and the top buttons of their fastened shirts. She must not have liked what she saw because her eyes narrowed at one of the men.
Emma chuckled into her hand. No one else caught the cue, but Emma did. The subtle lift of her chin, the pursed lips, and flair of her nostrils… Regina's snootiness screamed out to Emma while the recruits took no notice. Emma fleetingly wondered if Regina meant her to know her tells this well. Spending long periods of time with someone on the same spaceship acquainted people with each other's idiosyncrasies. With Regina, the queen of hostility, you really had to pay attention to the details. Emma picked up on the captain's quirks in the short time she spent with her and was having a riot of a time.
The captain paused at a recent graduate sporting a half upturned collar. Her eyes soared up and over in a sign of disapproval. Emma snickered from the sidelines.
It hit her like a speeder every time – the allure Regina exuded. It smacked her square between the eyes that day Regina showed up at Dusty's. Speechless, Emma couldn't stop staring at every inch of that face and wondering how on Earth it felt like no time had passed since she last beheld that kind of radiance.
Looking at her now… Emma snagged her lip between her teeth and focused on the subtle things. Looking at her now, she detected a void in Regina. She couldn't tell if it was there before because traces rarely showed back then. The light from Regina's eyes, the glow to her skin, and the shine in her silky brown hair was lost. Where had it gone? Space, thought Emma. You spend so much time in space the vacuum sucks the life out of you. When you didn't have anyone, when you isolated yourself in a ship of hundreds and work yourself to the bones, there's not much radiance left.
Emma's head dipped sadly. She stared at her shoes – scuff marks discolored the toe and the leather seemed worn enough. It terrified her to meet that woman's eyes much less look at her when she was distracted.
Even after the captain wrapped her speech and the hatch sealed shut behind her, Emma was still wondering what in seven hells happened while she was gone for those two years.
The cabin door hissed closed behind her, making room for the steady hum of the ventilation. The ship's air scrubbers helped recycle carbon dioxide exhaled by crew into oxygen which circulated through a complex system of aeration. When you lived on a ship long enough you get used to the perpetual drone of reconditioned oxygen hissing through the vents. Regina didn't like noise any more than she liked the chatter of overenthusiastic recruits, but the wheezing ventilation greeted her like an old friend.
She breathed out a sigh of relief to be alone in her quarters. She sank into her chair. A portfolio lay open on her desk. Contained inside were her speech notes. In one smooth motion she flipped it closed and slid it to the side. She never needed the notes, of course. She used the outline every year and adlibbed in certain places. That morning her notes remained exposed but untouched. Sometimes just having it there in the open eased her mind. Like any captain, Regina liked back-up plans. Safety nets saved lives.
Like paperwork saved lives.
Regina smirked. She knew one person in particular who would disagree.
The thought of her first officer brightened her smirk. Persuading Emma to rejoin Storybrooke turned out to be an unscheduled, yet successful endeavor. As usual, Emma displayed her hard-headedness, her uncouth mouth, and her ability to go toe-to-toe with the equally stubborn captain and live to tell about it.
But Regina had faced this challenge before. Countless times. Doing so again happened to be a wondrous and exciting turn of events. It shocked her how she missed collaborating (or rather collaborating unsuccessfully) with Emma. For two years she was oblivious of her longing for Emma's argumentative nature, not to mention her rash bravery. She also missed her for entirely different reasons that made it close to impossible to do her job. Did Emma argue with her and survive the backlash because Regina let her? Did the very thought of being kept from Henry arrest her heart because she had one?
Whatever her reasons for doing so, rehiring Emma was certainly a boost to her ego. She felt productive for the first time in months. Regina, captain of the Storybrooke, had a commission, a crew, a semi-reliable first officer (which was an improvement from the last), and a thirst for space travel. Furthermore, she felt like she could hire anyone she damn well pleased and Headquarters couldn't say or do a blasted thing about it.
Regina smiled. The look on the admirals' faces when she told them she was reinstating Emma Swan. Their shock probably resulted from her unmistakable threats and "I have it on good authority" sass. She may just have been a grunt commander doing their dirty work, but she could wipe the floor with the best of them.
The admirals had all but given her the keys to her kingdom. The Storybrooke was hers, she informed them in no understated terms. She earned that ship as much as she earned the right to assemble its crew. And sure enough, Regina swaggered out of that conference room with an approved "request" in hand and a devilish smile on her face. She still couldn't wipe the expression off. It stayed there like permanent marker.
As Regina commenced with the refreshing task of mission prep, the door indicated that she had a visitor. She rose from her chair and approached the door, a dreamlike grin still plastered unknowingly on her lips.
"Hey."
"Miss Swan."
Emma's brow arched as she looked the captain over. "You sound happy. Did I get suspended already?"
"Because you used the buzzer this time instead of banging on the hatch like a Neanderthal? Why would you think that?"
"Oh, shucks, I don't know. Because you like messing with me?"
"Do expound your meaning of my 'messing with you.'"
"Invite me in and I'll expound away."
Regina was caught between a smirk and a glare. She'd have to get used to it. The woman's attitude hadn't changed much since being gone. Half amused and half antagonized, she motioned Emma in.
Emma went for the center of the room and made herself comfortable on the couch like she'd done it a thousand times. The familiarity of it caused Regina pause. Emma's snark and her forsaking permission to sit felt like yesterday.
Regina took a seat on the white sofa across from her guest and tossed her hair back with a move of her head. "You were saying?"
"Right," Emma said, holding the captain's hard stare. Her eyes flicked away then like she'd been scalded. "Well, when I say that you like messing with me I just mean that you don't seem to have made up your mind about me. Which is interesting because you've known me for a good bit."
"I hardly think a year equates to a good bit, considering you've been gone for two."
"Right, but you're about as fickle as the stabilizers on an L-class freighter. One minute you want me off your ship and the next you're offering my job back. It's no disrespect. I would just think that a captain like yourself had priorities and crap like that."
Regina's jaw had already dropped. "I never said that I wanted you off my ship!"
"You never said you wanted me on it. If you had any encouraging opinions you kept them to yourself. On the other hand, if they were negative, resentful opinions, you transmitted loud and clear."
"Will you stop speaking for me?" Regina scolded. "I am not a neglectful captain. You knew perfectly well how I felt about the way you went about your job. It is not my fault you need constant recognition. If you needed more you should have read your performance reviews."
"Oh, yeah, because those were glowing."
Tilting her head, Regina shot her a pointed look. "Again, not my fault. You are responsible for your own actions aboard this ship. I just oversee them and try my hardest to keep you on the straight and narrow. It's obvious from the way things turned out that I failed."
Emma head lifted as if she were about to nod. Something about the way Regina said "failed" sounded sorrowful, like she didn't expect to be disappointed. It struck Emma as curious because she always believed her captain thought the worst of her like the one time Regina had reached her wits end and used marker to draw up an x days without accident/injury smack dab on the transparisteel viewport of the bridge. Her humor came off as gloomy, but Emma had to hand it to the captain who rarely cracked jokes on or off the job.
Sinking back into the soft cushions, Emma threw her arm across the back of the sofa and crossed one leg over the other. The unladylike pose had its expected response in a most ladylike scoff. Emma simply grinned and said, "Guess it's 'take two' for us, huh?"
"Miss Swan, if you are serious about this –"
"Only if you are."
"Of course." Regina waved a hand, rolling her eyes. "Do you think I pick up all my ex-first officers from the shipyards and offer their once and lifetime opportunities back?"
"Why?" Emma chuckled lightly. "Is it that humiliating for you? What do you think it's like for me to get visited by my ex-commanding officer?"
"It should not be humiliating. You should feel lucky I even considered it."
"One day you and I have to have that conversation about what exactly my predecessor did to get him fired. Or should I say successor? I don't know. Whatever. What's his name anyway?"
Unconsciously, Regina lounged back into the couch and sighed easily. "Lieutenant Commander Eugene Waylor. Or, rather, Eugene Waylor. He lost the title when I let him go."
"Waylor?" Emma's head was thrown back by a cackle. "Did he, like, wail every time he screwed something up? Oh my gods, did you chew this guy out to tears or something? Because that I would love to see."
"Fortunately for him, you will not be witnessing the poor man's incompetence. I do not want to devote any more talk of Waylor. He used up my patience a long time ago."
"Hm, the guy sounds like a prick."
Regina's head snapped up. "At least he stayed to do his job. Even when he made some irreversible error he persisted in making it right. He didn't give up and he didn't let down his crew!" She sucked in a breath, shocked at her outburst. It wasn't her taking Waylor's side that surprised her, but her inability to preserve her feelings about an event that took place long ago. Emma left two years ago and it still drudged up old bitterness and a touchy attitude.
Emma was beginning to think her resignation was a sensitive subject for Regina. Seven hells, it was a sensitive subject for Emma, too, but did it always have to involve bitching?
"Okay, here's how this is going to go…" Emma propped her elbows on her knees and leaned forward with hands gesturing out. "You clearly have a blaster in your side about what happened. I get it, but you need to get over it."
Completely affronted, Regina surged forward, nearly on the edge of her seat. "Excuse me –"
"Excuse me," Emma interjected. "If we're going to be working together again, I need to get a few things straight. Whatever happened is going to stay where it is: in the past. You and I are going to start fresh. That means no ill reminders of how awesome I am at fucking things up. No bitching each other out in front of the crew. I don't like insubordination any more than you do. The last thing this ship needs is another mutiny against the captain and the first officer.
"We have to show everyone we're a united front," she asserted, her tone as strong as the muscles in her gesturing hands. "That's just as much of a priority as fulfilling a mission. The only reason our heads should butt is when a crisis needs to be cracked. I'll admit our approaches to problem solving are enormously unalike, but maybe that's what this commission needs: diversity. We have a second chance here to make something of ourselves – together. Let's play nice this time, Regina. Okay?"
"Are you finished, dear?"
Emma thought for a moment before shrugging. "I think so."
"Quite. Now get a few things straight, Miss Swan. This is not a conditional reinstatement. I am your commander and you will do as commanded. I do not allow my people to go wherever and whenever they blasted well please. I can and will get over whatever feelings I have about you abandoning my ship at a time I see fit. And yes, I have a blaster in my side about what happened. I have every right to after I thought I had your trust."
"Oh, gods," Emma moaned. Her head caved to her hands. "Not this again."
"You may have made it back onboard, but I need a good reason to keep you here as my second-in-command. I need assurances, Miss Swan. Durasteel assurances. You have to prove to me every day you are aboard my ship that I can rely on you. I will not allow you to leave at the drop of a hat. You cannot just quit without an explanation. Beyond that there is a procedure."
"I filled out the two weeks' notice!" Emma retorted. "I had a good reason and that's all there is to it!"
Regina shook her head, matching Emma's fuming expression. "Not a good enough reason for your captain."
"Henry," Emma ironed out simply. "He is the only reason I need to quit any job whether it is my gods damned destiny or not."
"Then you did not explain the situation well enough to me. If you had trouble caring for your son, I could have made arrangements."
"What, arrangements for him to live on the ship? Are you spaced out? HQ wouldn't hear of it!"
Regina stared at her good and hard. "After all this time, you really think I care what Command does and does not prohibit? I got you your job back and I even use smoke and mirrors when they so much as come within a lightyear of asking about the Raiders. Do you know how many inquiries I have faced since the Xelphi Six incident? And still I manage to keep that quiet. So, really, dear. Bringing a child Headquarters has no knowledge of onboard my ship is hardly what I deem a challenge."
"Point taken," Emma granted with a roll of the eyes. "But that's sort of irrelevant as I'm not thrilled about hauling my kid to the Outer Reaches. The point I've been trying to make is that I made a decision. I followed protocol. Any normal captain would be satisfied." She cringed after the fact. Regina wouldn't like being compared to any "normal" person, captain or not.
"Well, I was not satisfied!" Regina exclaimed, shooting up from the couch.
Exhaling roughly, she rounded her sofa and began pacing from her desk to the other end of the room. Emma made quick work of following, eyes flying left to right due to the quarter's small dimensions.
"I deserved more than protocol and your stupid decisions! I should have earned a blasted – " Regina cut herself off with a turn of her head. She clutched at her forehead and shut her eyes as if to close herself off to the goodbye she deserved. She may have only known Henry for a short amount of time, but the little boy didn't have to do much to steal her heart. To this day he hadn't let go of it. "It does not matter. It is two years passed and I suggest we both move on."
Emma snorted at Regina's classic transference of blame. She said "both" like sole blame was placed on Emma alone.
"Thankfully, some sense has been knocked into you to rectify your mistake. You have seen the light and returned to duty." Regina gave a firm nod, absolute and no room for argument. "I would have preferred this phenomenon to strike you earlier, but better late than never."
"Wow. I'm just knocked out by the waves of warm welcome you're sending right now."
"What would you prefer, dear? A party?"
"Not particularly, but I wouldn't say no to a glass of that apple cider." Emma flashed a grin, tamping down the urge to add a wink.
Sighing, Regina spoke to no one in particular, "Aboard no less than an hour and she wants to get drunk."
Emma watched as the captain approached her beverage cart and prepared two glasses. "It's not my fault you make such strong liquor."
"It is when you're not accustomed to the finer things in the universe." She waved a hand over Emma's attempt to retort. "But let's not argue further. There are some things in Cosmofleet that take precedence over drink."
"And yet here we are." Taking the glass of cider, Emma settled back into the couch. She smiled slyly behind the lip of the crystal glass when Regina returned to her seat with a glass of her own. "If our heading is in the general direction of the Outer Reach than you have no argument from me. I may have been slumming it on Earth, but I still have a bone to pick with the people who kidnapped my son. I hear there are a few remnant terrorists out there in hiding." Emma's head turned to the side, a veil of blonde hair concealing her flushed cheeks as she muttered darkly, "Cowards."
"So does that mean you will accept my terms and concur with my authority aboard this ship?" Regina clamped down on budding hope. "If not, I would like to know now before you spring it on me at a later, more ill-timed date."
"Yes!" snapped Emma, a little angrier than anticipated.
Furrowing a brow, Regina leaned back to take in the woman's appearance. She had turned from sarcastic to haggard in under a centon. "You don't have to shout."
"Sorry." Emma's body sagged to the weight of embarrassment. Her forefinger tapped against the cider glass in a nervous rhythm. "I didn't mean to shout. It's just… I guess I'm not used to close spaces. I never did get used to claustrophobic star travel. At least in a simulator I know I can get out whenever I want and breathe fresh non-recycled air.
"Well, if it is that great an issue, I can recommend you to the local counselor. Her name is Dr. Kathryn Nolan. Deck C."
Emma's head turned a bit, studying the captain's wording. Just when she thought Regina was being serious she caught a hairline tilt of her lips and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Oh, wow. Looks like someone developed a sense of humor while I was gone."
Regina clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "As much as you like to think, you are not at the center of the universe, Miss Swan. I can articulate a perfectly appropriate joke without your help."
Emma's head dipped low in a nod. "I can see that."
"Condescension will get you nowhere."
"You're smiling, so I didn't offend."
"Oh, please," Regina droned. It took more effort than usual to purse her lips shut. Of all the things she hadn't prepared for about Emma Swan it was her rascally wit. Her ability to worm past defenses just astounded sometimes. Now she knew where Henry got it from.
Suddenly, a nagging anxiety rushed to the forefront of Regina's attention. She feared her question might be overstepping as it had been made crystal clear that she was to have no contact with him. Inevitably, the need to quell her curiosity overcame. "And Henry… I assume you have made arrangements for him now that you are returning to your post here?"
At first, Emma appeared like she would breathe a solar flare of punishment on Regina for bringing the subject up. But then her eyes softened and her hackles fell. With a mother's instinct reined under control, Emma allowed the question with a small smile. "Yeah. An old friend from academy is taking care of him. We've known each other for a while and he's been a big help to Henry. They bond over manly things, I guess. But Henry's only six, so what can he do with August that he can't do with me?" Emma shook her head because she didn't really get it sometimes. "The best part is Henry's new babysitter is not a terrorist. Although we were friends during our time at the academy, I did some research on his whereabouts since graduation. The guy's about as harmless as a ladies man with a curfew."
Regina smirked and touched her hair. She had been occasionally sipping from her glass whilst quietly listening. She did not expect such forwardness, but appreciated the details nonetheless.
"He's also the least judgmental person I know. When I returned Earthside I kind of felt like he needed to know about Henry. I mean, I had to deal with the whole Storybrooke knowing, so how hard could telling an old buddy from flight school be? He took it well. Pissed as seven hells, though, that he didn't know he had a nephew." Emma caught the confused look and explained, "Uncle August. That's what Henry calls him. No blood relation, just two dudes who hang out, drink milkshakes, and babble on about how soon the kid can grow scruff to catch the ladies' eyes." Emma shrugged. Before taking a swig from her cider she said, "He's a good guy. I trust him and, more importantly, Henry does, too."
Taking it all in, Regina recrossed her legs and stared off into space. A part of her itched to meet the man for herself. She had a feeling her own investigation into his credibility would be a great deal lengthier than Emma's. As a commander she had better resources and superior tools of interrogation. She'd put this August under severe duress to get the right answers out of him. Henry deserved that, at least.
But another issue caused her pause. Emma made a judgment call on Mulan and that situation turned out worse than anyone could have expected. Regina had her doubts, but she never deduced that the babysitter was in line with a known terrorist organization.
Regina knew better than to second-guess a mother's intuition and she wouldn't now, especially with the way Emma was looking at her. She must have been reading her thoughts for her eyes were compelling her not to push the issue.
"So he will be alright," Regina stated, not as a question but as an absolute because it had to be alright, for him and Emma and Regina. For them. They knew she wasn't referring to Henry's safety in the hands of August, but the boy's emotional state at his mother leaving.
Emma stared at the floor, nodding and reassuring herself, "He'll be alright." An image flashed before her eyes of a six-year-old child stuffing himself with pancakes and smiling around a mouthful with those puffy, syrupy lips. Emma smiled, chuckling breathily over the sob. "He's the one who convinced me. In his words: I 'gotta go.'" Her head ducked and she covered herself with a hand. It shielded Regina from the tears, but not from the tidal waves of melancholy wafting off of her. "It's his new favorite phrase."
Cowered in the palm of her hand, she snorted humorlessly. "Is there a support group around here for parents who miss their kids?" She was only half joking.
Regina glanced down to Emma's hand and then clenched her own to keep from using it unnecessarily. "I don't know about support groups, but we do have that counselor on hand. I am being sincere. Dr. Nolan is available for anything you feel uncomfortable talking about to anyone else. She is a good and fair listener."
"Speaking from experience?" At the changing expression, Emma gave a reassuring smile. She didn't want to see the benevolence in Regina's face slip away. The captain's concern for her, spoken or not, double or single meaning besides, meant more to Emma than she could possibly understand. "Which is totally fine, whether you see a shrink or not."
"She is a friend," Regina supplied.
"That's good. Thanks by the way for looking out for me."
Regina allowed it with an incline of her head. "It is my job."
After what transpired, between Emma showing up at the captain's door and Regina asserting that her first officer's well-being mattered to her, Emma realized a crucial thing. It occurred to her that she had taken something very special for granted. The more time she spent with Regina the more she realized how much she belonged there. Despite their arguing, she and Regina were aware of the consequences of failure. They may scrabble and disagree frivolously, but it helped conceal unwanted emotion. Whatever couldn't be said had to be covered up with scowls and abuses, smirks and quips. It was just their thing – familiar and oddly reassuring.
On her way out, Emma's hand caught the hatch edge and swung around so just her head and her head were visible. "Oh, and Regina?"
She turned, gazing expectantly at the woman hanging around her door. It proved hard to look away. Emma's eyes where sparkling and so, so green.
"It's good to be back."
Regina's lips parted. She fought the frown begging to slip into place and instead tilted her head. She couldn't tell herself if it was a nod or a half acknowledgement. A numb sensation had taken over her, so she couldn't be sure what her face was doing, but it seemed to satisfy.
Emma smiled, laughing. She patted the hatch side with her hand and slipped away.
When the door sealed closed Regina swore she still heard the chime of laughter.
The cafeteria chatter quieted for a moment at the entrance of the crewmember. Utensils paused, beverage cups settled back to the table, and critical gossip expired. They even stopped chewing mid-bite. It lasted long enough for the crowd to smile or nod in the direction of their new visitor.
The crew's returning first officer, Emma Swan, hesitated under the pressure of so many stares. She gave a nod in return and they all went back to their meals. Conversations resumed and the clatter of silverware and trays reverberated through the mess hall.
Breathing out, Emma rolled her shoulder and shook off the anxiety that came with being the second most important person on the ship. She took her place in line at the lunch counter. Thankfully, she escaped with no questions asked. Full tray and drink in her hands, Emma wound her way through the benches until someone familiar came in sight.
Emma wasn't one for gossip, but she was curious as to what happened while she had been away. Mary Margaret stayed in contact, but not as frequently as Emma would have liked. They had been best friends since their freshman year at the academy and assigned to the same starship for their first commission. After graduation it was typical for many friends to be broken up by their assignments. Depending on their vessel's purpose (expeditionary, scientific, diplomatic, defensive) they could be off-planet for years at a time. For Emma and Mary Margaret to live and work on the Storybrooke, it couldn't get any more convenient than that.
It had been two months since Emma received a transmission from her friend. She started to think Mary Margaret kept her distance due to betrayal. Keeping Henry's existence from her may have seemed like a necessary white lie to Emma, but in the long run it proved inexplicable consequences for their friendship.
Doubts filled Emma's head about returning to this job. Doubts and fears she couldn't shake. She needed her best friend back, and in the flesh, not a hologram a thousand lightyears away. And… she missed Mary Margaret. It was a strange and foreign feeling to miss someone who wasn't Henry, but she did. Who wouldn't with those fuzzy orange sweaters?
Having not been able to catch Mary Margaret off-duty, Emma settled for other company.
"Emma! I'm so glad you're here! Now you can tell Ruby how productive LiDAR can be on field missions."
Settling for David Nolan's company was definitely the understatement of the year.
"Ah, yeah," she agreed vaguely. She placed her tray down and sat across from David and Ruby. "David and I used it to navigate through the temple on Nal Korobi."
"Emma's being modest," he said, bubbling over with excitement. "It's a simple thing. The LiDAR uses pulses like Old World radar to detect subtle topographic features like aquifers, recesses, pools, and shafts. The pulse is echoed via backscattering which maps karst content by identifying wavelength-dependent changes in the intensity of the returned signal. And that's just the half of it. Now, let's say –"
"Whatever," Ruby interjected, rolling her eyes. "If it's that useful we could have used it on Khione. A remote sensor would have picked up any sign of that freakin' alien before I ever had to put one toe into that relay station."
Emma waved a finger. "There was no monster at that compound, Ruby. I was with you, remember? Didn't see a thing."
"But you heard it! Don't tell me you didn't because you were screaming like a little girl and running just as fast as I was!"
"Emma screamed like a little girl?" David chuckled, fingering the handle of his mug until he lost hold of it. "Ow…" He rubbed his shin, wincing.
Ruby smirked and asked, "Something wrong with your leg, David?"
He took one look at Emma's aloof expression as she slurped from her cup. "Naw," he grunted.
"Next time you and I go on assignment to a subspace relay station on an inhospitable planet crawling with saberwolves and an invisible alien…" Emma cocked her head, "I'll bring the LiDAR."
"And bring that nuclear arsenal you promised because it's been two years and my stomach still hasn't recovered from that stunt you pulled with that hoversled."
"I've never seen anyone puke so much in one day," Emma said, shaking her head amusingly.
"Shut up." Ruby covered her feverish forehead. Her face had turned as white as a dwarf star.
David used his fork to push the last of his scrambled eggs around his plate. He studied Emma closely as she ate. She was quiet, more so than usual, but that might have had something to do with the fact that they hadn't seen one another in a while.
"So," he said, foregoing his breakfast and staring Emma right between the eyes. "Let's hear it. Did you have to endure another welcome committee from Captain Mills? I always wondered if it was optional for returning officers."
Emma caught the charismatic grin splitting across his face, so she threw her crumpled napkin at it. "I'm still your boss," she warned before revealing her own roguish expression. "And yeah, returning officers still have to stand at attention through that borefest. That doesn't mean I stood at attention." Emma's features scrunched as she gave it thought. "Or listened, for that matter."
"Did you ever listen to the captain?" Ruby asked.
Emma thought for a moment. "Nope."
David and Ruby both snorted at the quick response.
Ruby flipped her long hair behind her shoulder and pointed an incriminated finger at her boss. "Not much has changed in two years. Speaking of… how old is the kidster now?"
"Yeah, Henry should be about six, right? How's the little guy doing?"
Emma bit into her muffin and shrugged a shoulder. "Kidster is six, but he thinks he's going on 23. All he can talk about lately is flight school. He's always wanted to fly starships, ever since I bought him one of those starship beds and the matching blankets. I can't get him off the idea." Emma smiled despite her hardship in rerouting her son's path. With her head in the clouds, she whispered sentimentally like he could hear her, "He's an insistent little pilot."
David frowned. "He realizes he has to earn a college degree before applying, right? I mean, these days the academy board doesn't bother glancing at candidates who haven't had at least four years of post-secondary education. It's a crock of tar if you ask me."
"I know what you mean," Emma said, nodding. "I've met at least a dozen guys and girls at the repair shops I've worked in over the years who could pilot through an asteroid field and live to tell the tale. And they don't have a lecture worth's of flight school that we've had."
"Hey," David's face crumpled, "I could navigate through an asteroid field!"
"So could I."
Ruby snickered and elbowed David. "Maybe with that remote sensor you could."
"W-well," he stuttered, "that's a given. I mean, what's a pilot without their instruments?"
Emma shook her head, laughing. "Boys and their toys. I'll settle for instincts over instruments any day of the week."
Tilting her head, Ruby asked seriously, "What does Henry think?"
"Hm, don't tell anyone this, but…" Emma watched as her friends leaned closer, shirts barely grazing their food trays, so she hunched over her own tray and dropped her voice to stealth volume. "Henry's been watching Regina's simulations, every holovid that's out there for consumption."
"Every holo?" David echoed.
"From the captain's academy days?!" Ruby asked, voice approaching dangerously high levels. "That's a lot of holos."
"Yeah, my kid would rather glue his eyes to sim rounds than play video games with his mom. He's obsessed and I've started to feel a bit neglected."
Ruby's shoulder rose in an innocent shrug. "Actually, it's kind of cute. Being obsessed with Captain Mills does seem to run in the Swan family."
Emma shot her a withering glare.
"But seriously… this might be good for his character. He's displaying the kind of ambition the academy appreciates in applicants."
"But he has years before he can start thinking about applying. He's six," she reiterated sadly. "He should be spending time being a kid. I don't want him growing up so fast." Her head fell into her hands and she exhaled a long sigh. "I suppose it doesn't matter either way. I won't be around to see him grow up because I'm here on this ship and not on Earth with him."
"You seriously didn't think it would be easy, did you?" Ruby ignored the warning glance from David. She shook her head and pushed on. "You're a mom who chose to leave her kid behind so he could live in a safer galaxy. Not many of us here can say the same. That's blasted brave of you, Emma. But as much as you miss him and he misses you, stop acting like you're getting sucked into a black hole. Seriously. This isn't the end of the world. He's been away from you before and he took it like a trooper. The fact that he's six now and binge watching flight sims proves how much he's matured since then. And, Emma, don't forget that its 2260 not 2015! We can send holograms from a million lightyears away! None of us would have left Earth if we didn't have the technology to stay in contact with our loved ones."
"Wow," Emma muttered. "Okay."
"I'm just saying. You don't have to be so melodramatic all the time. I miss my family, too."
Emma looked away, feeling a stab of guilt. Regina was right: the universe didn't revolve around her. Many crewmembers in the fleet sacrificed their normal lives to protect the ones they left behind. If Emma wanted to be the first officer her crew could look up to and trust, she had to take their sacrifices into account as well. She wasn't as alone on Storybrooke as she liked to think.
She went back to her lunch by stabbing a potato with the tines of her fork. She gave it a dousing in ketchup before popping it in her mouth. Chewing, she thought about how her being out of the game for a while might affect the missions ahead. She had been onboard for a total of 16 hours and not much about ship routine had changed. Crew procedure seemed the same. Rules and regulations, too, but Emma never paid much attention to that stuff anyway. Things proved quiet aboard the ship, even with the excitement of Emma's return.
"Have things always been this quiet since I've been gone?"
David made a leisurely scan of the cafeteria before shrugging. "Storybrooke has been tasked with some less than daunting assignments. We've been doing a ton of patrols, some scouting in the Mid-rim Systems, not at all the kind of missions this ship was intended for."
"Pretty uneventful," Ruby chimed in.
Something about the way David and Ruby were holding themselves, rigid and morose, had Emma holding back a chuckle. "You guys sound disappointed."
"We miss the field!" they cried out simultaneously in angst.
Emma blinked. "Which is weird because field work is neither of your guys' expertise."
"That's just it," Ruby said with a huff. "When you were here I got a chance to get off the ship for a while and explore. Granted, the planet we visited was a stone cold bitch – literally – but it was still exciting."
"Technically, you were only there because you disobeyed captain's orders and stowed away on my shuttle."
David cut in with a slice of his hand. "And I got to chart karst topography and hit a Korobian on the head with a pillar!"
"Science nerd," Ruby griped, eyes soaring to the ceiling, "nobody cares about your karst crap!"
Emma's face scrunched. She pushed her tray to the side so she had room to fold her arms on the table and stare the two officers down. "What are you guys saying? Was it really that boring while I was gone?"
David and Ruby replied, "Worse."
"What about intelligence? Has anything been gathered on the Freedom Raider front?"
"That's a different matter," Ruby answered. "The Storybrooke hasn't stumbled on anything, but when you're in the fleet you hear things. Since that Raider bombing on Earth, Headquarters has formed a specialized intelligence division just to combat the Raiders. Fleet spies are sent to scour the entire galaxy – Earth to Outer Reaches – for intel on terrorist management, technology, military activities, the works. There've been whispers that the Raiders aren't as derelict an organization as we once thought."
"Really?" Emma frowned doubtfully. "I gathered from holonews reports that there are just a few in hiding."
Ruby sighed, disappointed. "Honestly. You trust a bunch of journalists over fleet intelligence? Or is it that you haven't finished the assigned reading given by the captain, hm?"
"Haven't found the time," Emma replied bashfully before taking a sip of coffee.
"Oh, and when you get around to it will that be before or after you ditch us? Again."
"Hey now," David intervened with a hand waving between them. He leaned over the table, eyes shifting between a sulking Ruby and Emma. "We were all a bit shocked by your resignation." His eyes stayed on Ruby a little longer as he lowered his voice. "It hit some of us harder than others."
Emma nodded slowly, cutting the woman some slack. She was starting to think her decision had affected more than the child she used as an excuse for her leaving. It seemed to have made just as much of an effect on her co-workers and captain. Emma already had a hard time accepting Henry's disappointment at her leaving Cosmofleet. She didn't think she could handle more of it. She just wasn't used to people missing her. It led to so much anger and resentment. High tensions and bubbling over emotions were the keys to polluting a work environment as well as any personal attachments and should be avoided at all costs. Emma had learned this the hard way.
"Anyway," Ruby said, "as much as we all would like to lend a hand in spying on the Raiders, that's not really at the forefront of our minds. We're dealing with our own issues here on Storybrooke."
Emma tilted her head. "What do you mean… issues?"
"When Commander Mills made the decision to detonate the Raider base, a lot of people were… Upset is too light a word. How about hopelessly enraged? That explosion could have cost the captain her job in Cosmofleet, that is, if anyone found out about it. It was only due to her sterling record that Command stopped asking questions about the large gap between missions. They trust her, blindly so."
Sucking in a breath, Ruby glanced at their surroundings before ducking back into the conversation.
"The Xelphi Six incident angered quite a few members of the crew. If people were uncompromising with her decision to blow up that suspected Raider ship and attempted to mutiny because of it, there was another reason to question the captain's conscience after she set a self-destruct sequence which led to a blast no sentient life could come back from.
"The Storybrooke crew is pissed, and I get it, although they haven't seen Regina when she makes these decisions. They don't realize the pressure she deals with under the circumstances. Hundreds of lives depend on her good judgment. I've been with her on the bridge when she's faced impossible choices. The crew doesn't see that side of her. Through their misunderstanding of the captain they are filled with incredible rage, but I can't imagine what the surviving members of her recklessness are feeling now. The Raiders must have a bounty on her head by now."
"Oh," Emma breathed out somberly, "that's why…"
"That's why what?" David asked.
"Regina's looking like she's on the edge of a vibroknife every time I see her. I mean, she's always been kind of tense and guarded, but not like what I've seen of her lately. At first I thought it was…"
Ruby squinted at her friend's sudden stillness. She looked a million lightyears away and completely unaware of her company. Ruby cast a questioning look to David who mirrored it and spoke up.
"You thought it was what?"
"Earth to Emma," Ruby sang.
"Nothing," murmured Emma, shaking herself like traces of a dream still clung to her skin. "After hearing what you told me, Ruby, about the crew's reaction, it makes more sense. If my crew didn't trust me I'd be distant, too."
Ruby nodded, gesturing with motion of her fork. "Just when you thought she couldn't get any more detached."
Just then the heavy clomping of boots approached their table. The boots belonged to a stout man with a head that reflected the cafeteria lights and a dark beard-turned-scraggly after one too many thoughtful pinches by his fingers. He stood about a foot shorter than Emma and owned a great bulbous nose some thought a hazard in his line of work.
"Leroy!" David stood to offer their chief engineer a seat, but Leroy bypassed the welcome to nudge Emma over so there was room for him on her side.
He saluted her with his spoon. "Welcome back to the team, Lieutenant Commander."
"Thanks, Leroy. It's nice to know you all remember me, at least."
"You kiddin'? You saved my engine from a blistering nose dive into a star. Of course I remember you!"
Emma chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder as he dug into his meal. "Glad to help, but I can't say I did much. Your upgrades to the drive have it saving itself practically on its own."
He snorted. "Nice to know someone appreciates me."
"The captain chew you out again on engine specifications?" asked David. His smirk was anything but forced.
Dropping his spoonful of grits before they reached his mouth, Leroy gave them a long-suffering glare. "Why does everyone seem to think I got no authority over my own engine?" He reassured Emma with a look. "Except you, sister."
Emma knew the difference between a commander and a chief engineer, and in no way did they share domain over the ship's engine. She cringed and drawled, "Technically –"
"My engine!" Leroy expelled with a poke of his silverware. "Now enough about that. It looked like I was intruding on some serious talk here. Spill the oil."
Of course, the only one of them there who could translate Leroy's 'mechanic talk' was Emma. David's blank expression was shifting from a waiting Leroy to a smirking Emma, so Ruby took the reins.
"We were just catching Emma up on the crew's varying viewpoints. Specifically their views on the captain's record when handling Raider business."
"Oh, right." Leroy bobbed his head nonchalantly as if this was usual conversation. "The Evil Queen's murder before proven guilty policy."
Emma's grip around her cup grew so tight her knuckles went white.
"Actually, Leroy," David leaned over, his scrunched face revealing how uncomfortable he was with delivering an unsavory memo, "we are going with 'supportive' on this one."
The engineer squinted and continued to chew. "Right."
Knowing everyone's difficulty in understanding their captain, Emma would still defend Regina. She'd even put her fists up and jab good old Leroy in the honker if it came to that. The captain weighed consequences more than her crew might be willing to admit. She thought of the people in her care and carried out the most reasonable solution, hence her detonating Xelphi Six. By crippling it beyond repair she ensured no possible survivors could hunt them down in their escape.
There was more heart in Regina Mills than they all knew. She may not broadcast her fondness to her senior officers or be willing to admit how much she relied on them, but it showed in her actions. When affection seemed unprofessional, coldness became the only option people like her settled for.
"You mentioned before… something about surviving members," Emma said slowly, anticipating bad news before it came. "Are you implying that the Raider Initiative has been resurrected?"
"Like a phoenix from the ashes," Ruby replied, none to dreamily. "That star base may have been a primary base of operations, but not every Raider in the galaxy was onboard at the time. Those that were lucky enough not to get burned by the captain's bold move seem to have organized and increased their numbers. We don't know how, but in the two years since the death of their leader they have slowly built up their ranks. It is unclear who they have chosen to replace Leopold; intel like that resides in the central ring of their organization where our spies don't have access to."
David nodded gravely. "As far as we know they haven't resumed operations, but it's only a matter of time."
"Has anyone even tried to infiltrate the Raiders? We could learn a lot just by standing in their ranks with eyes and ears open."
"Get off it, Emma." Ruby shook her head. She was fixing a scolding frown. "This is dangerous just talking about it. We won't have you jetting off and into the inner sanctum of the Raiders. We just got you back."
"Yeah, sister. You're on a brand spanking new speeder before you checked the micro-coil knots."
David rolled his eyes to Leroy's 'mechanic speak.'
"Flipping the switch before running basic diagnostics?" Leroy tried.
David squinted, so the engineer shook his head at the lost cause.
"Well, I bet Regina will listen to what I have to say."
"No way," sputtered Ruby, waving both hands to ward of that idea. "After what Waylor did to her ship the captain won't let you out of her sight this time around."
Emma laughed, lifting up her hands to the bustling mess hall. "Do you see the captain? I'm pretty sure I'm well out of her sight right now."
"She won't let you off the ship again is what I mean. I don't think you realize how much you're needed here, Emma. I swear to the gods, there was this one time Waylor got in the captain's way and she went totally saberwolf on his ass. Her actual words were, 'Even Miss Swan would know better than to schedule the transfer of an ill crew member before consulting me!'" Ruby went into a fit of giggles. "And Waylor was all 'Who in the galaxy is 'Miss Swan?'"
Eyes blown wide, Emma calmed the flutter in her chest by swallowing hard. She cleared her throat and asked wobbly, "Rrregina said that?" She quickly looked from Ruby to David to Leroy.
Ruby winked. "Seven hells yeah."
David shrugged and replied, "Can't verify. I wasn't present."
"David!" A hand whacked him upside the head. "I told you first thing when you returned the bridge. Don't you remember?"
"Sure, but you have a tendency to exaggerate."
Ruby's face took on a red shade of offense.
Emma rolled her eyes at them and turned to Leroy for confirmation.
He gave a sharp cackle. "Don't look at me, sister. I'm very much at home in my engine room. Don't get any gossip 'round those parts."
"It's not gossip if I was there when she said it!"
"Better go see Doc Nolan for that blabbermouth disorder. Ever hear of the tale of the boy who cried saberwolf?"
Ruby made to slap Leroy, but David intervened with an arm around her waist. He coaxed her deadly sharp red polished nails back with a pat.
"Nolan," Emma echoed as a means to change the subject, somewhat. "Any relation?"
"Kathryn's my twin sister," David replied with a smile. "We haven't seen much of each other since she graduated and began her residency program. She joined the Storybrooke not long after you left. It's been nice to see her in person rather than by holo. You should stop by and introduce yourself."
"Hm, twins huh?" Emma put on a skeptical frown. "Will I be able to tell you two apart if she starts ranting about some psychology thing that's exciting for her but makes me want to doze off?"
"Oh, Kath's not like that at all," emphasized Ruby. "She may be super smart, but she knows the coordinates around some juicy talk."
"Really?" David deadpanned. "You couldn't say that when I was gone?"
"Why? Does her ability to communicate well with the general public bother you?"
Emma and Leroy joined in Ruby's snickering while David fell a lightyear behind them in the conversation.
"I communicate well," he grumbled into his mug of coffee.
"Yeah," Ruby snorted, "with your weird specimens."
Leroy shook his head at the scientist. "You have to get new friends, brother. Preferably those that aren't mutated or radioactive."
Laughing in with the others, Emma was hit with a strong sentimental longing. She missed these cafeteria huddles. They were always a nice break from their high stress environments. Being senior officers, each of them had to shoulder responsibility the general crewmembers didn't. As highly ranked officers they had to uphold the captain decisions even if they didn't sit well with their own consciences.
That kind of duty weighed heavily on their shoulders. It only seemed appropriate that they should all take time to gather together and unwind. Be it gossiping, tech talk, slapping each other, or just eating in silence, the cafeteria was their refuge from the stresses of the job.
These meetings were also practical. As first officer, it was Emma's duty to check in with her senior officers from medical, communications, science, and engineering. She thought back to the numerous times she convened with her colleagues-turned-friends. They had always been located at one of the long tables nearest the exit of the mess hall, always reaching across to snag the glorified sweet roll, and always closing conferences with more smiles and claps on the back than the commander would probably deem acceptable.
The more Emma thought about it the less she expected Regina to want to join in. It was kind of tragic, in a way, that she wouldn't judge a 'cafeteria conference' suitable to fleet regulation.
In any case, Emma gladly accepted her resumed routine and proved so by swiping David's roll when he wasn't looking.