In the weeks following, the Storybrooke completed several routine patrols in the Mid-rim systems. While they weren't the fast action thrill rides Emma had missed since being away, she couldn't complain. Being in space again, walking the pristine corridors of the ship, and delivering orders to underlings had been sorely longed for. She never got this kind of responsibility working at Dusty's Repair Shop and counted her lucky starts that people still treated her with the kind of respect the authority of first officer demanded.
She and Regina had fallen back into a solid alliance, the same one before Emma left. Before, they worked tirelessly at strengthening their work relationship. They were each aware of their weaknesses. What one of them lacked, the other made up for. They filled in for each other when one was sick or incapacitated from a rough assignment, accepted advice, deliberated rationally, and stood up for each other (more often when the other's back was turned).
However, this time around they had a tendency to tip-toe around each other. Emma agreed too readily, fearing she might set off the unusually remote captain and revert back to their old, depreciatory ways. Regina loathed Emma's docility and accused so on many occasions. What threw Emma off about these "accusations" was their hypocritical nature. They were as docile as her tip-toeing. Emma was having an awful hard time figuring out why. It was like Regina feared saying anything too harsh, which was absurd because in no universe did Regina Mills shy from speaking her mind.
For all intents and purposes, Emma was starting to worry. Her commander's behavior resembled something so out of the ordinary it called for a medical opinion. Emma knew it to be a ballsy move. Going behind Regina's back had gotten her burned before. She only hoped that safeguarding the captain's health and, ultimately, her command proved a sufficient motivation. But she had other reasons to visit the chief medical doctor.
Mary Margaret must have been clairvoyant. Every time Emma arrived at K deck, the heels of her boots scuffing the pristine, ammonia scrubbed floors of Medbay, there was no sight of the doctor. The nurses and technicians were less than helpful and seemed to be actively working against Emma – or so that's what she thought. They either didn't know where she was or stared with quizzical expressions.
What kind of chief medical doctor didn't work in her own lab? Did Dr. Blanchard have a secret office no one knew about? Was she conducting super-secret experiments in the bowels of the ship? Or did she frequently go off-ship to see through contracts she accepted as her alternative identity as a bounty hunter?
Probably not.
Emma liked to think she knew her friend well. Honestly, Mary Margaret was about as mysterious as a shoe. It only seemed appropriate that after several visits to Medbay without anything to show for it that a few outrageous rationalizations were in order. Emma was too helpless not to grasp for straws. With the captain's odd behavior in question, she had to pull out all the stops. That's how she ended up on the psychiatrist's couch.
"This being a social call, I insist that you relax and stop looking at me like I'm judging you," said Doctor Nolan.
From her place on the absurdly soft sofa, Emma eyed up the wool covered feet, skinny black leggings, and white top. The counselor was wrapped in a long black cardigan speckled with star-like silver. She had an athletic built not unlike Emma's own, but her features were softer, more prone to smiles and thanks. If Kathryn's reputation was disclosed to Emma (which it wasn't) she'd conclude that the psychiatrist exceeded her age by only a few years. Her face had a thin layer of makeup, modest but not too formal. Emma didn't spot a ring on any of one of her long, elegant fingers. Although the absence peaked her interest, she concealed any outward sign of it.
From the woman she deemed pretty and possibly trustworthy, Emma glanced at the small desk tucked in the corner. No photos, not of family or friends. No knickknacks, decorations, not even a single award or certificate showing off her many accomplishments (no doubt). The walls were bathed in a kind of soft beige Emma had run her toes through on a Florida beach way back when. Various paintings hung around the room, none of which could be identified by Emma's level of refinement.
When she finished her scrutiny her eyes fell back on the woman's. She was surprised to find not impatience or even pride, but gratitude.
"Easier said than done," Emma replied.
"Why do you say that?"
Emma paused. The last thing she came there to do was drudge up the past. She was no stranger to the bullshit of psychiatric therapy. Apparently her need to second guess a stranger's motivations didn't come from years of emotional and physical neglect but from her 'classic case of oppositional defiance.' Hence bullshit.
"I have my reasons."
The woman nodded vaguely. She went to the sofa across from Emma and sat with both legs tucked under her. She took a tie from her wrist and gathered her long blonde hair up into a messy knot. From the few minutes Emma had known her, this Kathryn Nolan was anything but your average psychiatrist. Even the décor with its shades of blue, sea green, and white put Emma in a tranquil mood. She felt as free of oppression, stress, and burden, as if she were visiting a private beach with sofas.
"This is a social call, right? I just assumed because you didn't make an appointment."
"Of course, yeah. I'm not here for… you know…"
Kathryn leaned against the sofa's arm, crossing her arms over it elegantly as she cocked an eyebrow. "You won't burst into flames if you say it."
"Um… therapy?"
"See? I didn't even need the fire extinguisher." Kathryn waited a bit to see if her guest would grant her a reason for the visit. When she received none, she gently took the lead. "So why is it you've come, Emma? May call you 'Emma'?"
"Sure. To be honest, I'm not here for myself. It's the commander." Emma clasped her sweaty hands and wrung them. She clarified unnecessarily, "Regina."
Of course, Kathryn knew who the commander was and (unbeknownst to Emma) knew why Regina was the reason for such a visit. Emma didn't play it as cool as she'd like to think. From her fidgeting it seemed as though her presence there broke confidentiality with her boss. What that confidentiality entailed Kathryn didn't know, but Regina always did have a peculiar hold over her first officers.
"So… this might be easier because you're a friend of Regina's." Emma stopped to think for a second before amending her statement. "Actually, that might make it more complicated, but whatever." Upon seeing Kathryn's frown she asked, "You are her friend, right? I mean, that's what she said…"
"This is news to me."
The blank look told Emma she shouldn't have come without verifying her source. Leave it to Regina to –
"Oh, my," Kathryn gasped, smiling. "You are gullible aren't you? I was joking Emma. Relax, please. This is a safe place. Anything you say here be it professional or personal doesn't have to leave this room."
"That's a relief." Emma rubbed the back of her neck, exhaling a chuckle. "But just so we're clear, Regina doesn't know I'm here and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want to give her any more reasons to throw me out an airlock. I live in constant fear of that threat, despite her using it one too many times to consider it genuine."
If anyone could make disagreement look soft it was Kathryn. Her eyes stayed strong and true into Emma's as she said, "I'm sure that's not true."
"You must know she's capable of this." Emma laughed. "I though you said you two were friends."
"We are, but that doesn't mean I cater to her intimidations. Now," she pushed off the couch and gestured to the beverage cart, "are you sure you don't want anything? I can assume from the way this conversation is going that you might need a little something."
Emma waved a hand to show her indifference. She spoke as Kathryn fixed them both a drink. "I must have tripped into a wormhole. It's entirely possible considering my long, gangly legs have always made me awkward."
Kathryn looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "And what has you stumbling into this wormhole to begin with?"
"You," Emma replied cryptically, "and Regina." She shrugged. "How in the galaxy did the two of you become friends?"
"Is that why you came here?" Kathryn handed Emma a tumbler two fingers full of whiskey and ice cubes clinking musically inside the glass. It seemed apropos to the nonconforming psychiatrist. "Are you screening all the people Regina has relations with?"
Emma's drink got halfway to her lips before she blinked and stammered, "Ah.. relations?"
Kathryn smiled. "Platonic in our case."
"Okay," she sighed. She felt a heady sensation that couldn't be blamed on an untouched glass of whisky. Emma frowned inwardly at the relief she was experiencing. She took a good, long sip on her drink, this time without sputtering on it. "To answer your question: no, I'm not screening or investigating you. It's just curious… I know I've only just met you, but I've always been stellar at reading first impressions and you do not fall into Regina's category of straight-laced, on guard, humorless friend. So what gives?"
"Can I just say something first?" Kathryn didn't bother waiting for permission because she was breaking out into a wide smile and informing Emma of wisdom supreme. "Do any of us fit into our friends' category? Don't friendships just… happen? Like a chemical reaction not unlike the kind between lovers? We spend time with someone, share common interests, debate our differences, and if it works it works." She leaned forward, still posed in a sitting position on her long, curled up legs. "We don't create friendships because they fit the mold. We have friends for reasons unique to each individual because of how they make us feel. Is there logic to it? Is it a choice made by our head or our heart?"
Emma sucked her bottom lip, squinting. "Are those trick questions?"
"No trick questions, and this is not reverse psychology. Don't look surprised that I'm one step ahead of you. I can read your thoughts, after all."
Smirking, Emma gave a pointed look. "Liar."
Kathryn barked with laughter. "You catch on quick. I can see why she likes you." Emma's eyes did something quite exaggerated and Kathryn tempered the smile with the back of her hand. Oh, she should really censor herself otherwise Regina would start threatening her with airlocks. "And because of that I'm going to feed your curiosity. Regina and I may have completely opposite temperaments, but we understand each other. She respects my station as I do hers. We both are tasked with the safety of the crew and burdened by the consequences if we don't. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions they don't understand.
"But that's the professional side of our relationship," Kathryn elaborated. "Personally, I like Regina because she's not afraid to speak her mind. I can ask her opinion and I know I'll get a straight answer whether I like it or not. She's also a riot after a few drinks. I once caught her swearing a few times. And you may not know this about our dear commander, but she's wicked talented at cards."
Emma's jaw practically hit the floor. "Regina gambles? I thought Cosmofleet jurisdiction made it illegal?"
"Not when the captain can drain your pockets dry. Just don't bring alcohol into the mix because she will drink you under the table and take all your credits before you can say 'break the bank.' Trust me, I've run up quite the debt with her."
"So you guys are friends because she kicks your ass in cards?"
"Well, when she kicks my ass at least she has me going down having a good time. That and I like to think it's because I'm a globally recognized psychiatrist, but Regina would tell me to vaporize myself."
Emma gaped, a grin tugging unsure at her lips. "She would?"
"On many occasions."
"Wow."
Emma gulped, trying to grasp the mountain of information. Regina a card player? She started getting excited thinking about what that would be like. She had some skills of her own and wondered how her bluffs and low hand stakes would compete against Regina's level of play. And with alcohol thrown in the mix… Well, that would just make things more interesting.
"You said we choose friends based on how they make us feel." Emma posed the question to Kathryn with a thoughtful gaze. "How does Regina make you feel?"
Kathryn brought her hand to her chin. She engaged a far away expression, a finger tapping to her lips. "Mm…" Her hum dragged off into a giggle. "Regina makes me feel invincible. After our conversations I have these strange thoughts like I can punch my fist through the bulkhead and come away unharmed, like I can hop a starfighter without any training and streak across the stars at 10 G's."
"They sound more like delusions to me."
"Hope, that's what I mean. Regina gives me hope at a time when the galaxy feels cold and inhumane. She pushes me to thoughts and feelings I wouldn't normally catch on to. She makes me outspoken, unafraid, and hopeful. And hope is a gods damned good feeling, especially these days."
Emma nodded. With the scourge of Raiders throughout their galaxy and the threat of attack hidden around every corner, everyone needed a little hope these days. But Regina? A foundation of hope? The neurons in her brain were firing off at lightspeed at how hard she was coming to terms. The longer she sat there on the sofa talking to Kathryn the more transformed her image of Regina became.
Bringing her hand to her chin again, Kathryn watched Emma sink into the clouds. For as rash as Regina described her, Emma showed to be a very thoughtful individual. There were moments during this visit that Kathryn found herself wondering what on Earth she was thinking. She could be deep and contemplative without a spoken word. Kathryn supposed that Emma had no idea how beautiful and expressive her face really was.
The officer's brows pinched together and Kathryn couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer. "How does Regina make you feel?"
Caught off guard by the question, Emma blinked rapidly and straightened against the sofa. The informal atmosphere that she and Kathryn had created thickened to a point of obscurity. She appeared to recede from the intimacy that the topic broached.
"I-I don't know. Why do you care?" Emma asked sincerely.
"Because," Kathryn stated, like it's the only word that needed to be said. "Because as much as I care about Regina I also care about how she treats others, especially with those nearest to her. Whatever feelings she evokes affect her as much they do you."
"Regina and I aren't what you'd call close. I don't know what you'd call us, but it's not within a lightyear of the relationship you have with her. Everything you've told me here today is news to me. Gambling? Drinking? Cursing for gods' sakes! I mean, I feel like I never knew her at all!" Emma threw up her hands. The tightening of her chest provoked a sudden urge to ramble. "And she's been acting so distant lately – more so than usual. I know it has to do with my coming back, but I have no way of figuring out how."
Emma sighed, head sunk into her hands. "I'm just so confused and frustrated. I don't want things to go back to the way they were. I want to move on and be able to work with her without having to push her away or set her rage off at the slightest word. She's just so… quiet. She doesn't pick fights, hardly yells at me, and barely glares at me let alone looks me in the eye. It's strange because that's the kind of motivation I need to do my job." Her head rose to reveal a painful combination of panic and helplessness. "What happened when I was gone?"
"Waylor," Kathryn answered easily and with a subtle curl of her lip. "He may have been at the top of his class but he had this obsessive need to please Regina. Like all graduates, he heard stories of the illustrious Commander Mills. Everyone wants to work for her and the few that are lucky enough to earn the position end up with more than they bargained for.
"They try moving heaven and Earth to make her proud, but they only manage to test her drive to commit assault. Waylor was no different. He thought by going behind her back he was proving himself independent and diligent. But you know as well as I do how Regina likes to be kept in the loop."
Kathryn took a deep breath then. She contemplated the importance of what she was about to say, but in the end Emma needed to know. The agony carved into her face begged for it.
The doctor shook her head and continued. "But Waylor wasn't the source of Regina's anger. The true subject of her rage was you, Emma."
"I don't understand."
Kathryn saw how Emma hung on her every word. She could almost feel that same weight in Emma plummeting inside her as well. The lines around Kathryn's mouth were hard as she spoke. "Why do you think Waylor never measured up? He forced her to long after something that was out of her grasp. He was a constant reminder of your absence. You left her with little warning and half an explanation, and she blamed Waylor for it."
"No, I left my post. I left the Storybrooke, not her."
"Your commander is the only person that matters. She is the most important thing in mind when considering your future aboard this ship. She's changed since you've been gone because you were gone. She doesn't want to go back to the way things were because they are memories of a lost time. She doesn't want to hold on to something that might slip through her fingers at a moment's notice. Emma," her voice softened as did the fierce protectiveness in her expression, "I don't think you resigned because of your son, but whatever your reasons, the Storybrooke has always opened its arms to you. It is probably more home to you than Earth. You've made friends here. You've had adventures and traveled to places you never would have dreamed of. None of this would have been possible without Regina. You ran away from this wonderful gift and she deserves an explanation."
"It's not that easy. I can't just tell her. It's more complicated than that."
"Emma Swan, if you wanted easy you should never have enlisted in Cosmofleet. If you wanted uncomplicated you would have stayed on Earth."
Emma snorted. "You may be right about that." The jingle of ice cubes brought her attention to the glass between her hands. She twirled its contents, biting her lip. Conversations with Regina were never easy or uncomplicated. In fact, they usually ended with clenched fists and minds swirling to the brim with threats and desires. Just thinking about the conversation Kathryn insisted she have with Regina nearly caused Emma to break out into hives. Nerves put a tremble in her hands, causing her glass of whiskey to slosh unstably. She was starting to feel hot and out of breath like she had just come out of an adrenaline induced simulator.
"You don't have to talk to her right this minute," Kathryn said, chuckling. "Take a breath, Emma. She's not going to jump out at you from behind the sofa. Her entrances are much less dramatic these days."
"Thanks for the heads up." Emma relieved herself with a gusty exhale. She returned the smile with one of her own and said, "Regina was right. You're a good listener."
A flush of gratitude had Kathryn glowing. "Of course she was right. She's always had my back. It's a nice, safe feeling, but I'm sure I don't have to tell you that."
"No," sighed Emma, a faraway sensation warming her back like a handprint, "you don't have to."
The Storybrooke entered realspace without the slightest jerk or hitch. Jumps to hyperspace came with obvious risks, but with Mr. Gold at the helm the crew very rarely saw reason to cross their fingers and pray to their gods. Every jump proceeded without issue. He took pride in his sharp, reptilian reflexes and always made note of it to his captain.
"We have arrived just outside Quarthos' orbit." Rumple didn't bother turning to address her because she tended to breathe over his shoulder. The scales on the back of his neck stiffened as he felt her scrutinizing the coordinates. His fingers flew over the control board in front of him as he slowed the ship to a halt. "Another smooth trip courtesy of yours truly," he threw in, smiling at his navigator.
Ensign French, never missing out on an opportunity to cater to his ego, smiled back.
"You are a model to your kind, Rumple, but I can do without the constant notes of vanity."
"If only we could all be as modest you, Captain."
Besides the curled fists, Regina gave no sign of her usual temper. She failed to see the point in menace when Rumple just threw back insults that when she thought about it were honest to gods truths.
"Commence all engine stop," she ordered over his shoulder. She then turned to communications. "Lieutenant Lucas, notify the target of our arrival. Inform him that I will be shuttling down to the surface immediately and that he should expect us at the prearranged location at oh nine hundred hours."
Ruby nodded and fingered her headset. "Aye-aye, Captain."
"Lieutenant Nolan, I want you to assemble the shuttle team. Collect Valentino, Clarke, and Valdez and make sure they are equipped and prepped for the assignment."
"Will I be accompanying you to the Dome Capital?"
"Unnecessary. While I am away I need you to complete your findings on the soil samples we took on Gigeron 6."
David shifted uncomfortably. Since Emma came back he'd been antsy to get out into the field again. As much as he felt at home in his laboratory with his microscopes and specimens, he missed the action. "Can't it wait?" he asked expectantly.
Regina looked back, startled by his behavior. David had always been a model senior officer, namely someone she didn't have to worry about going rogue. She could count on him to sit in his lab for the whole commission if she asked it of him.
"The Caedus Institute does not wait for results," she said, narrowing her eyes coolly. "There is a reason why a multi-global research organization shares its resources with Cosmofleet. They expect timeliness and we give it to them. Unless you care to explain why transformative research to all sentient life is secondary to getting your adrenaline kicks?"
He clicked his boot heels together. "No, ma'am."
"Nolan," Regina snapped, nostrils flaring, "I told you not to call me that."
"Apologies, Captain. I forgot."
She rolled her eyes and turned back to her chair, muttering, "You would think after four years it would sink in."
Shame coloring his cheeks, David zeroed in on an obscure area of bulkhead. When he felt the breeze of her waving hand, he fell at ease and headed straight for the turbolift.
Regina sat, crossing on leg over the other, and propped her tablet on her thigh. She busied herself with permission briefs, emergency plans, escape routes, and maps. The work was supposed to distance her mind from defiant officers, but it provoked no such thing.
All she could think about was Emma. For the last three weeks she was obsessing over how she acted around her. After a verbal exchange or simply passing each other in the corridor, she'd think about how she could have behaved better. Regina paid constant attention to what she said, how she said it, where her eyes were looking when Emma spoke, and her own posture. It was a game: running around each other, sneaking glances, and saying one thing but meaning another. True meaning, true emotions proved difficult to conceal when they were too enormous to contain. The task required energy she didn't have. It asked for cold blood she couldn't feel beneath her skin anymore.
The challenge prompted her to shut down almost completely when Emma was present. She couldn't look her in the eyes anymore because when she did, words stalled in her throat. Whenever she felt Emma's intense gaze, her feet were swiftly moving her out of sight. Every movement and spoken word was calculated.
She faltered occasionally, she was sure of it. Obsession always had a way of pointing out the errors. Had she stared too long? Did she say her name again like she let it slip that day in the park? She repeatedly berated herself over the proper course of action in correcting her first officer or over the correct sensation she should feel when Emma strode near enough to elicit a breeze across her skin. The fumblings, the thoughts and feelings, quivers and eye contact kept her awake at night. Absurdity and denial were her constant companions in the darkness. The late hours alone in her bunk left too much to the imagination. It prompted her to dream of the should haves, could haves, and what ifs.
Regina being Regina, she required justification for her actions. Her time serving as captain taught her the value of exemplary conduct. This made her attentive to the consequences of whatever came out of her mouth on or off duty. As the highest ranked officer aboard a Cosmofleet vessel she would be held accountable for her actions, her orders, and her associations. Therefore, she had to find reason in this new person Emma had brought out of her.
The only reason she could supply to explain her behavior was fear of confrontation. She avoided it at all costs, even if Emma's pliant attitude these days rankled her to no end. Then again, old, stubborn Emma would make avoidance much harder to attain. It was better for everyone if they stayed out of each other's way and only made conversation when absolutely necessary. It's not at all what Regna envisioned for herself and the Storybrooke upon Emma's return. She didn't expect it to be so nerve wracking, but it was and she would deal with it like a professional.
The lift doors parted with a whoosh and out came heavy, dragging footfalls. Regina's eyes fell closed as she moaned inwardly to her bad luck.
"Hey, Regina? Can we talk?"
Regina laid down her datapad, rose from her chair, and strode past. "I'm afraid not."
Emma dried her forehead with the back of her hand before dropping it beside her and wagging it out as if to rid the tension. "Okay, well… It's sort of important."
"To what degree of significance should I ascribe to something that is 'sort of' important?"
"Aaah, I don't know. Can you, like, give an example?"
"Is it more important than this ultra-sensitive assignment Headquarters sent directly to my command and no one else's? An assignment I am presently preparing for as we speak?"
"Maybe not so much. Forget it."
"I'm glad you've seen the light, Miss Swan."
The oval transmission table remained dim until Regina punched longitude and latitude coordinates into the outer control panel. The translucent table lit up and from its surface rose a three dimensional image of a city square.
"Where is this assignment taking place?"
"We've already arrived," Regina said, gesturing behind her for emphasis. A blue world filled the viewport in its oceanic splendor. "Quarthos."
"That's in close proximity to the Reach."
Regina's eyes fixated on the holomap. "Your point?"
"Lately our assignments have us jetting around Mid-rim systems," Emma explained, shrugging. "All of a sudden Command wants us to carry out some super-secret operation that's a stone's throw away from Raider territory. And you're telling me there's nothing out of the ordinary?"
"I said nothing of the sort."
Emma furrowed a brow at the 'business as usual' Captain Mills. The woman punched in coordinates and scrutinized floor plans like this was any other mission. "You don't have to," she muttered.
"I will concede – this is a highly sensitive operation, but I expect it to go down as routine and by the numbers as possible. To make anything more of it would be impractical. The last thing I need is a crew who can't…" Regina's chin rose as she squinted into the distance, "… What do your people say? Cool their ion jets?"
"It's your call."
"Yes, it is."
Emma gave an informal salute before heading to the lift. "Just give me a few minutes to suit up."
"No," Regina said, pursing her lips at the holomap and halting Emma midstride.
"What?"
"You will not be suiting up because you will not take part in the landing party. I have already chosen a team. They will accompany me to the surface and act as protection for the target."
Emma frowned, jaw tightening. "Why the seven hells can't I do that?"
Regina completed a great sigh, propping one hand on the table and the other on her hip. Her eyes flicked up to Emma's and held strong.
"Because I need you to stay here and man the bridge. We are picking up an informant who has in his possession a wealth of intelligence. They insisted that the rendezvous point be in a public quarter, so anything can happen. I do not want an incident, so I need eyes and ears open. That means my first officer has to watch my back." She extended her chin towards the blue glowing floorplans. "When I'm down there I need you here to oversee what I cannot: check corners, shadowed areas, armed persons, anything suspicious. Patch into security feed from the streets and the Dome Capital where I am to meet the emissary." Regina straightened further, head jutting forward a bit as her eyes widened to impatience. "Do I need to go on?"
Emma swallowed and gave a firm nod. "No, I got it."
Regina didn't reply. She didn't nod either or give any sign of acknowledgement. Her first officer complied with an order and that's all she needed from her. Any further exchange would be a waste of time.
A crackle emitted from the comm and alerted those on the bridge to a male voice. "Captain, the shuttle team is prepped and awaiting your arrival."
"Acknowledged, Lieutenant Nolan." Regina turned on her sturdy combat boots and smoothed down the crinkles in her field wear she changed into earlier. She slapped the lift call button and declared smoothly, "Miss Swan has the conn. Whatever she says goes. I want everyone here to stay in constant radio contact. Is that clear?"
A cascade of nods swept through the main bridge. Regina chanced a glance towards the transmission table. Emma was looking at her, posed to act. Her mouth was parted like she needed – wanted – to say something, but then she noticed the others in their midst and diverted her study elsewhere.
It would seem the captain wasn't the only one acting strange lately. The turbolift arrived with a ding and Regina recoiled from her thoughts. When the doors closed her in, she shut her eyes, inhaled deeply, and forced herself to focus on the mission ahead.
According to galactic classification, Quarthos ranked in as a Class F ocean world. Ninety percent of the aquamarine planet was covered in water while sharply crusted mountains scared the other ten.
There had been no history of humans inhabiting this place long-term, although they were not forbidden from trying. While the native Quarthen lived under the surface in their ocean cities, visiting humanoids preferred to stay near the mountain ranges where the ocean floor was shallow for stilted housing structures. Additional options for quarters included domed metropolises in flora and fauna rich reefs and floating hotel monstrosities.
Quarthos lied within Commonwealth jurisdiction, although its distance from capital Earth made it an often overlooked world. It had been a steadfast ally despite the current xenophobic climate. The habitually honest Quarthen had elected to protect Commonwealth spies and offer its planet as a base of operations. This started out as an act of good faith that promised to keep out humanoid industrialization that many planets found themselves and their cultures crippled by. As long as they provided intelligence agents their due hospitality, the Commonwealth would keep their economic ventures out of Quarthos.
For the Commonwealth, the deal was a great achievement. Quarthos was the only world within their purview that lied on the outskirts of their galaxy. Their proximity to the Outer Reach made it an ideal waylay for keeping tabs on the Freedom Raiders and pirates in hiding from interstellar law.
"Another day out on the ocean," Valentino said as he observed the stretch of water through their viewport.
Taking on the appearance of your average military man, Valentino was buzz cut, barrel chested, and muscular from head to toe. He usually spent his time around the ship in a tight, form fitting sleeveless beater. On this mission, Regina ordered him to wear a jacket over the rippling muscle because "Those arms might scare the locals," she drawled warningly.
Behind the shuttle pilot sat Valdez who peered around the flight seat. He squinted out the window with dark, beady eyes. "What do you mean another day? We've been traveling interstellar for weeks."
"You think space is any different from ocean?" Valentino lifted his ham of a fist and stuck up a finger to each of his points as he listed, "No air, zero gravity, can't sustain life… As I said, another day out on the ocean."
Already shaking his head, Valdez argued, "Water may not sustain humanoid life, but it does sustain marine life. These depths are teeming with complex biologics. And…" his mouth opened hesitantly as he wagged his pen towards the ocean view, "a-and ocean may be similar to zero gravity but it is not the absolute environment we travel through in space. An ocean can only simulate an absence of weight. There is still gravity on a planet covered in water."
"Oh, really? What are you… Waterboy?"
"N-negative. I am an analyst." Valdez combated the verbal spasm by bracing his arms so that his elbows bent and his fists touched his shoulders and he gave himself a jerk of a shake. The little gesture calmed his nerves but had his captain, sitting in the seat beside him, watching over him, disconcerted. "As I was saying, we can only simulate an absence of weight. A suited individual can be submerged in a water environment, but again this is not perfect zero-g. Water produces drag, which is not present in a vacuum. See: Neutral Buoyancy Simulator; Marshall Space Flight Center; Huntsville, Alabama; Earth date 1968 to –"
"That's a stellar lecture, professor," Valentino patronized with a roll of his eyes.
"Th-there's more to life than guns and a-a-ammo."
Valentino glanced in the rearview mirror above the viewport and gave Valdez's reflection a smug grin. "Little tense there, Spooks?"
Valdez humphed. "It's not normal for me to be called out without adequate prep time." He patted his hand on his thigh in time with the firm statement, "My preparation demands at least two hours and one additional hour of gear inspection. Now if you want to m-make f-fun of my verbal miscalculations, fine. Just know that I do not like getting called out on such short notice. N-no offense captain," he mumbled.
Regina simply grinned softly. Valdez may be shy and stumbling, but he spoke up when he felt his authority as a skilled analyst was being superseded by anyone other than his commanding officer. Regina always had a soft spot for him and made it her prerogative to crush anyone who bullied his skittish tendencies.
"I completed my gear inspection in 10 minutes," Valentino commented with a sly smile to his co-pilot.
From behind, Valdez scoffed. "This is an anticipated amount of time for a combat junky."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it, Spooks."
"Not necessary. I have three advanced degrees, which is more than you can say."
"Boy, don't even start. I can school you in advanced blowing shit up than they can blow –"
"Okay flyboys," Clarke cut in. "Keep 'em in your pants. We all know they're as short as a splintered Korobi stick."
From behind the co-pilot's chair, Regina enjoyed a little smirk. She liked Clarke and had high hopes for her advancement. Her rigid principles made her an ideal candidate for commander someday. The snark may be unnecessary at times, but Regina remained silent. She continued tapping on her handheld field tablet while her shuttle team chattered on.
"Why do you call him spooks?" asked Clarke.
Valdez rocked back and forth, oblivious to the conversation.
"'Cause he's scared of the sound of his own voice. Poor guy can't even use the excuse of being an android."
"That's a little unfair, don't you think? He can't help it."
"Just callin' it as I see it. Isn't that our job? Observe and report. Don't get emotionally involved with the aliens."
Clarke socked a fist into his thick, meaty shoulder as he went on chuckling.
"Alright, enough chatter." Regina pocketed her tablet. "We should be arriving at the Dome Capital soon. Stay sharp. And put a sock in it, Valentino."
His chuckling died off as he stiffened his posture. "Right, Commander."
Valentino guided their shuttle through the atmosphere with the help of Officer Clarke. She pointed him down towards a large round platform. The landing site was just one of several floating a few meters off the surface of water. They were all connected to the Dome Capital by spokes which acted as tunnel transportation to and from the capital city.
The Dome Capital, like others of its construction on Quarthos, was climate-controlled and featured the courtyards, skyscrapers, and hover transportation typical to oxygen rich planets. Although Quarthen prefer to live in water, it wasn't unusual to find them in the humanoid-friendly environment.
The enormous compound hosted Commonwealth dignitaries from all corners of the galaxy and contained large court halls, conference rooms, offices, and laboratories. Essentially, it was the Quarthen version of Earth's Presidio.
"Touchdown," called Valentino just as the others felt the shuttle's landing gear settle. He flipped a few switches to disengage all systems, and the engine's hum gave out to silence. He raised his wrist chrono. "And MET[1]-clock… set." The device gave a shrill beep when depressed.
"Should be back before supper," Clarke commented. She loosened her harness belts and checked the safety on her blaster before sliding it into her underarm holster.
Valentino followed her out, muttering, "Unless Spooks over there has another conniption about how he wasn't adequately prepped."
Before Valdez got far, Regina grasped his shoulder and squeezed gently. "It'll be fine, dear. You're more prepared than you think."
He returned the reassuring smile before triple checking that his tablet was still in his pocket.
They disembarked the shuttle with bare minimum supplies. Each carried a concealed pistol, comlink, and a tablet comprising mission details and maps of the capital.
At the entrance to their platform's tunnel awaited a monorail on a single track. Once they boarded it automatically commenced a smooth 25-mph trip to the Dome Capital.
Halfway there, Regina touched her earpiece. "Miss Swan, do you have a lock on our position?"
"Yep, I've got the holomap up and I see three red blinking dots moving through the tunnel."
Regina glanced to her three officers who were also connected to Storybrooke's main bridge via earpieces. "Try not to think of us as red blinking dots, Miss Swan. If a crisis emerges I think my team would agree when I say we'd like to be considered more highly valued than a marker."
"Okay, no red blinking dots. Sorry. My bad."
There was a crackle of amusement on both sides of the radio link. Regina's mouth twitched up only for a second.
When the monorail floated to a noiseless halt, they headed through a narrow passage that widened to the Dome Capital atrium. Above them hung a clear blue sky. It was far from a simulation. The transparisteel dome allowed those inside to take in Quarthos' majestic heavens and touched nearly everything with natural light during the day.
None of them had visited Quarthos before. In other circumstances they might have liked to enjoy the sights, but this was an assignment Command directly tasked them with. They were briefed with maps, outlines, and itineraries, so most of the capital was not terribly foreign to them.
Regina led them through the atrium, which had the appearance of an airport terminal. Because they were undercover, her team did not flank her for maximum scrutiny of their surroundings. Instead, they proceeded in twos: Regina and Valentino in front, Clarke and Valdez in rear.
John "Johnny" Valentino acted as their tactician. He was your straight up combat grunt out of Jersey USA. Regina didn't normally rely on brainless muscle, but Valentino possessed too much experience to be overlooked. He paid his dues as a surface military officer before Cosmofleet (as did many combat specialists enlisted in the fleet). He had as much muscle as he did strategic brains. The tattoo inscribed on his upper arm paid homage to his fellow Marines and encouraged him to sign off on every opponent with a gruff "Semper Fi motherfucker!" Regina allowed it out of respect for Earth military.
She had high expectations for her crewmembers and pushed them harder than any captain in the fleet would dare, but she demanded more from Valentino, mostly because he could take it and he couldn't function without the severe Marine-like treatment. He and Clarke were close in age to their captain, so it seemed justified for Regina to keep things firm and professional between them. Valentino had a reputation with the ladies. Enough said.
Like Valentino, Miranda Clarke had previously served in Earth Military. She was a Navy lieutenant before signing up with Cosmofleet. Her time served at sea made her the most valuable member of the away team. In addition, her studies in extraterrestrial ocean environments made her an asset. She could read the ripples off a tide from a lightyear away and let her record show for it. That kind of modesty remained unparalleled to Rumple's and was reason enough for the captain to take her under her wing and groom her for her own command.
She also acted as translator, being fluent in Quarthen and knowledgeable in basic aspects of the species' foreign policy. Despite their not anticipating interactions with Quarthen (as their emissary was identified as human), her linguistic skills made her a supplemental advantage.
Luca Valdez handled intelligence. His mousy, bespectacled appearance and his need to work, eat, and sleep with a comlink attached to his ear made him an odd appendage to the team. He may be soft-spoken on the outside, but his specialized talents did not remain hidden. As an analyst he could scan records, reports, maps, transmissions, anything that fit on your average data stick and then some. He could filter out unnecessary data and extract the critical pieces of intel. Contrary to most analysts, Valdez thought fast on his feet and wasn't phased by chaotic distraction. He had shown Regina on previous assignments that he wasn't your usual super geek but a super geek you wanted in a tight jam.
Despite his stutters, he possessed some handsome features. His hair was jet black and his face was lean and expressive. Dark, sun-kissed skin tone remained as unblemished as his age. In his mid-twenties, he fell a full ten years under his teammates, but boasted more academic honors in tactical intelligence than the other three combined.
Regina would have preferred at least one Quarthen on her team to make them a little less inconspicuous, but with Cosmofleet's disinterest in representing their fleet with non-humans there was little chance of that happening in the next decade.
The team passed several Quarthen on their way to the rendezvous point, but humans were the majority of those bustling about. The Quarthen were a tall species with flat, ridged feet and three digit hands all essential in combating fluid dynamic forces. Their thick, blubber-like skin possessed a dull gray tone. Out of water their skin dried and appeared leathery and wrinkled, but their biology afforded them the ability to retain large amounts of moisture to keep them adequately hydrated. For a human, their expressions were hard to read. There wasn't much of a face amid the gills, tentacled jowls, and bulging round liquidous eyes.
"So," Valentino cleared his throat beside the captain, "how do you think the Lieutenant Commander will fare on the bridge?"
Regina frowned, unsure why the topic was being broached by Valentino of all people. She detected an attitude in his tone and combated any impending remarks with a firm tone. "Miss Swan has taken the conn before. She has proved herself perfectly adequate. If you have doubts about her capabilities," mouth rigid, she narrowed her eyes, daring him to disagree, "please bring them to light."
"This mission is more sensitive in nature than usual…" Valentino dragged off, leaving the obvious unsaid.
"She will perform the duties expected of her."
Regina didn't know why, but it seemed as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact. Ultimately, she didn't know if Emma could handle this type of mission, especially if something should befall her. In that case, Acting Captain Swan would be forced to make tough decisions for the good of the crew.
After a moment's pause, Valentino drew a slow, thoughtful grin. "I wonder if Swan is seeing anyone. You think she'd be interested in a guy like me?" He looked over at the captain, flashing his legendary pearly whites.
Regina, jaw dropped and chin downturned in a scowling manner, choked, "I can think of quite a few reasons why that line of questioning has no place in the present moment."
He shrugged, tilting his head. "I'll just ask her at Friday's game night." He nudged his chin up, adding smugly, "She's a slippery bluff at cards if ever I saw one."
She quickened her pace, still shaking her head and scowling over the insolent behavior. She couldn't fathom a universe wherein Emma involved herself with someone as dense as Johnny Valentino. An itching sensation ran down her spine and her whole body shuddered reflexively. She shook her head of the thought and continued at a step ahead of him.
They entered a courtyard abundant with sidewalks, benches, and trees. The trunk and branches of the trees were slim and ash white in color. Instead of the green leaves common to many seen on Earth trees in the warm season, these leaves took on a shade of red like ripe cranberries. They fluttered in the ventilation's breeze. The green grass, intersected by walkways, smelled of fertilizer and dew. It would seem the Dome Capital had received a dose of reproduced rain showers the day before.
According to Command, Regina and her team were to meet the spy for extraction. Normally, he or she would hitch a ride on a commercial vessel as a civilian and proceed to Earth. Due to the sensitive nature of the agent's information, a fleet starship was to pick them up instead. Regina would treat it as a simple snatch and exit, but she kept her wits about her. These were dangerous times, and considering the last dying advice Regina held in her possession she wished to remain alert and ready for anything.
Upon sighting a uniquely twisted tree, Regina touched her ear. "Standby for target intercept."
Emma confirmed with another, "Yep."
Clarke and Valdez broke off, one going left the other right. They circled the rendezvous point, eyes keenly scanning the area. Clarke's head turned left and right. Her pale skin glowed stark with the dark hair she piled into a tight bun high on her head. "Looks clear, Commander."
The much revered comlink attached to Valdez's ear had an optical extension that fit over his eye. When activated, the square piece lit up blue and projected visual schematics directly to his eye.
"Affirmative," said Valdez, checking corners with his optical attachment. "All clear."
Regina took a seat at the bench nearest the tree. She waited alone, checking her chrono every two minutes. After fifteen minutes she was starting to get suspicious.
"You think this guy got friendly with the natives and decided to stay?" Valentino asked, pinching a tree's leaf and flicking it.
"That or he forgot," Clarke replied.
Valdez rolled his eyes. "An intelligence officer d-does not simply forget his d-duty."
"Is there any way to communicate with this guy?" Emma asked over the radio. "It would help if we actually knew how far away he was or if he's even planning on showing up."
"Not in the slightest," Regina answered, disappointment shadowing her tone. "I cannot even confirm if our target is male or female. Command sent a time and a place for pick up, and a code phrase to confirm identity. No name, no comm channel." She took on a more casual demeanor by leaning back into the bench and threw an arm atop the back. "Everyone look a bit more inconspicuous. Valdez, take a stroll and shake it off, but stay within visual contact."
Valdez sighed, thankful to move about. He got real antsy standing still, especially on assignment.
"Hold up." Clarke touched her ear and focused in on movement. She saw a dark-skinned man of slim build and average height. He wore a gray coat and a fedora. "I have eyes on a possible. Three o'clock in a long coat and hat."
The downturned visor of the fedora concealed the face of the man. It wasn't until he sat beside Regina that his identity became known.
Regina's mouth dropped, her eyes wide and unblinking.
"Regina?" squawked Emma from the other line, the demand grating in her ear more than anything. "Regina! Is it the target? Talk to me!"
Regina shook her head as if Emma could see the motion, but she couldn't – just a red blinking dot, after all. It took effort to get her mouth moving but when she did the words scraped roughly in her throat. "If I wished to make an apple pie from scratch, what would I have to do?"
Unblinking, he replied, "You must first invent the universe."[2]
"Sidney!" Regina screeched. Realizing the covert nature of this assignment, she blinked rapidly at her outburst and swallowed her astonishment.
"Regina," Sidney said sweetly. He crossed his leg over his knee and laid his hands atop it. "Still looking lovely as always. How do you manage to look so ravishing and still have time to command an entire starship?"
She didn't have time to feel repulsed by the sickly hopeful look in his eyes. He wasn't even being sarcastic, which should have sent her recoiling off Quarthos entirely.
"How are you even qualified to handle operations? I had you terminated from my command. No one in their right mind would put you in a position of power."
"Who in their right mind? Now, now, Regina. You don't want to be caught with a traitorous tongue. After all, it was Command who put me in charge of their little operation here."
"And I can terminate that contract just as fast."
"Technically, I am not currently employed by Cosmofleet."
Something didn't seem right. Regina noticed his knee bobbing and his eyes shifting to corners unseen. Sidney had been under her command for three solid years and she could tell when he was nervous.
"What do you mean you are not currently employed by the fleet?"
Perspiration leaked from his forehead. He plucked off his fedora and dabbed his smooth scalp with the edge of his coat sleeve. He smiled half-heartedly. "There are more important things in the galaxy than credits."
"Sidney…" her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in a bit, "what are you talking about?"
"The fleet isn't the only power that will go to great lengths to sow its designs. It appears that there are others more endowed with the desire to get things done. Credits make a war, but passion wins them."
A passion for vengeance, Regina thought. An ice cold threat raised the hairs at the back of her neck. "What did you do, Sidney? Have you put my team in danger again?"
"Ah," he looked down morosely to the hat in his lap and the fingers fretfully smoothing the visor, "still blaming me for that gassing incident, I see. You should really let it go, Regina. I have. The victims were sick and I put them out of their misery. What difference would it have made if I consulted you on the matter?"
"They were not victims," Regina snarled. The tranquil park atmosphere and the assignment at hand fell away from her existence. All she saw was red and the need to feel the weight of her vibroknife in hand. She felt tears springing to her eyes. They seared her vision with hot guilt. "They were my crew. I can never forget their deaths. Their families do not allow me the mercy of forgetting."
There were voices in her ear. They were shouting, worrying, borderline terrified. Regina shut them out as she did the fluttering leaves and the heavenly blue sky.
"Now Reg –"
She grasped a fist full of his jacket and jerked him close so he'd feel her durasteel eyes bludgeon him. "If you've cost me another life or the lives of my crewmembers I will ruin you." She roughed him again, baring her teeth. "And this time will be permanent."
"Oh," he gasped, staring softly into her eyes, "you are ever so lov –"
Sidney's final declaration was interrupted by a thwack. The bolt of red energy speared through his sweat drenched scalp, through bone, fluid, and brain tissue. There was no exit wound, just a vaporized, blackened depression of what was once Sidney Glass.
Regina stumbled off the bench, grabbing her mouth to capture the scream. From her periphery she saw her teammates sprint in for her protection, but before their pistols left their holsters a stream of red laser sights crisscrossed the park.
It happened so fast. There wasn't time to diagnose the problem, come up with a solution, or relay last orders to now Acting Captain Swan. Regina had never felt so paralyzed. Through her muffled hearing she heard the tell-tale sound of blaster fire and the subsequent screams of "Luca!" from Valentino and Clarke. More thwacks and dancing of red beams. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh filled her nostrils. The events elapsed in the amount of a few seconds, not even enough time to snipe at the annoying chant of her name over the radio.
Before Regina could register anything else, her vision went black with the striking pain at the back of her skull.
[1] MET is an acronym used by NASA that means "mission elapsed time."
[2] "If you wish to make apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe" is a quote by astrophysicist Carl Sagan.