Gold's a fucking skeez.
Emma fights the urge to wrinkle her nose as he leans forward across the table. She's done business with him before, but each time she's struck by the sheer beadiness of his eyes as he smiles at her, extending his hand.
"Do we have a deal, Miss Swan?"
"Captain," Emma corrects him, not for the first time, but she takes his hand despite the disrespect. His skin is as dry as always, leathery and rough to the touch, and she feels something inside of her curdle. She squeezes tighter instead of pulling back. Her handshake is intentionally firmer than necessary with men like this – a small, secret part of her likes to imagine that she could break a few bones if she clamped down enough with her fingers. "But yes, we have a deal."
The money's worth it. For all his faults, Gold is filthy fucking rich, and a girl's gotta make a living.
"And I can assume," He continues, balancing his weight on his cane as he sits back into his chair, "That for the price that I'm paying, I will also have your utmost discretion?"
"As always." Emma sits back, too, smiling as the back of her chair dips down. She folds her hands over her lap, knees spread, and eyes the panel that's lit up a bright blue as she rocks side to side in her chair. There's an image of a jewel at its center. It's pretty, sure, but at the end of the day it's nothing special. A rock, Emma thinks. Nothing more – that's what people are willing to pay for. It's absurd. Lavish. Fucking filthy, the lengths that the rich will go to just to own things.
Whatever keeps her bank account comfortably padded.
"Alright, then. My assistant will wire over the deposit shortly. It should be enough to cover any expenses. There have been whispers recently. The gem's last known location was a private collection on Kliemar."
Emma's swaying stills. Her brow goes up as she eyes Gold.
"Kliemar is a long way out. That's gonna be a lot of fuel." Her thoughts churn. Kliemar is well past the Wilds. That's a big expanse of space on its own that they'd have to cross, and then some – and that's if Gold's intel turns out to be accurate. It usually is, she reminds herself, but still. The wear and tear on her ship won't be insignificant. She would know – she'd pieced the thing together herself, drawing it back from nothing but a rusted bucket of bolts in a garage.
Gold smiles, a disconcerting motion on him. "As I said, Miss Swan, the deposit will be more than enough to cover any costs you may have along the way. My assistant will send over more details on the last known owner, as well." With that he rises. Emma kicks her feet up onto the table, just to let him know that he's not in charge here, even if he is the one with the cash. This is her ship, at the end of the day. "I do expect results sooner rather than later. I'll be in touch." He heads for the door, cane thumping on the metallic floor of the meeting room. He turns to look at her over his shoulder just as the doors hiss open. "Good luck, Captain."
"Thanks," Emma replies, and resists the urge to add on a buddy or a dude or something else that might get the deal rescinded. Gold hobbles out into the hall, and Emma shudders the moment the doors close behind him. Dude makes her skin crawl.
She swings her legs back down from the table, reaching forward instead to minimize the panel with the image of the jewel down to a thumbnail at the corner of the screen, and queues up the cameras instead. She watches as he passes each member of her crew – down the hall, Belle, who steps out of the way to let him pass, and then into the common area, where she sees Ruby and Mulan both straighten up at the sight of him. Elsa, on the other hand, stays where she is, reclined on the smaller of the two couches with her feet dangling over the armrest and her arms crossed defiantly. Emma snorts, feeling a surge of pride for her sister.
Or, well. Almost-sister. Foster sister. Whatever. Elsa's the closest thing she's ever had to family, and that counts for a lot.
She waits until Gold clears the ramp off the ship completely and the door closes behind him before leaving the meeting room. Her footsteps echo against the metallic floor of the hallway, and she spots Belle, who had apparently turned back towards the common area in anticipation of Emma's return. She rests a hand on her upper arm as she catches up, and Belle flashes her a smile.
"Go okay?" She asks, and Emma nods.
"We've got a job," She says triumphantly. They spill through the entryway to the common area then, and Mulan's jaw snaps up as she catchest the tail end of the announcement.
"Success?" Mulan asks, and Emma nods, glancing around at their little hodgepodge crew.
"Yep. We've got the job," She repeats, and then draws in a breath, trying to work through exactly how to address it. "It's a big one," She settles on eventually. The others look at her expectantly, and she continues, "The payout's huge. But we'd have to go all the way out past the Wilds."
That gets a few raised brows.
"Past them?" Ruby asks, sitting forward with her hands folded on her knees. Belle drops onto the couch behind her, with a not-so-subtle glance at her low cut shirt. "As in, into Alliance space, or?"
Emma shakes her head. "Other direction. Towards the Nicha. Kliemar, to be exact."
There's a little silence, the only noise from Ruby, tapping her foot against the floor as she contemplates, and Elsa, shifting to a sitting position.
"How huge?" Elsa asks, referring to the payout.
Emma smiles. She knows this is her winning chip – these women hadn't joined her for a love of adventure, after all. Or, well – not entirely, at least. Wanderlust plays a significant factor for most people in their…profession, but money? Money seals the deal. "Six million," She says, and hears a collective inhale. "Yeah."
Belle blinks, her hand flying out to Ruby's knee. Mulan whistles, and Elsa actually says, "Oh, shit."
Even split between the five of them, that's a hefty fucking amount. Enough to buy a new ship – not that Emma would, because the Bug is her baby, but still. She could get her some pretty sweet upgrades with that kind of cash.
Emma lets it sink in for a few more moments before she asks with a grin, "So is that a yes all around, then?" She's already told Gold they would, of course, but Emma likes to think she's a pretty fair captain, and she gives her crew the option to sit out each time they take a job, especially the dangerous ones. Every member of her ship knows that they can stay behind, with the understanding that the Bug will be back for them when they're done – they just won't get to share in the payout.
Again though, money seals the deal. Emma's a big enough person to admit that she's in it for the cash, too.
Ruby and Belle share a look, and then a grin, and Belle squeezes the hand she's still got on Ruby's knee. Ruby covers it with one of her own, and then they're both nodding at Emma. Her gaze goes to Elsa, who simply says, "Hey, where you go, I go," And Emma feels a surge of warmth in her chest.
They'd both grown up in the system. Elsa's the same age as her – her birthday is only two months before Emma's. They'd shared their last foster home for only eight months, and yet when Elsa had aged out, she'd set about securing a job and an apartment so that she was ready and waiting for Emma when she aged out, too. Emma's never going to forget that kindness.
Elsa had been supportive of Emma's decision to buy the Bug, too. She'd had to work multiple jobs, odd ones on the side too, and Elsa had picked up the slack around the house in the meantime. Emma can't count how many dinners Elsa had made for her, wordlessly handing her a plate the moment she'd burst through the front door and collapsed on the couch.
Emma turns towards Mulan, then: the final vote. She's still standing next to the monitors, arms crossed over her chest. Emma raises a brow, and Mulan only says, "Duh."
Emma grins, pride surging in her chest as she looks around at the little group she's amassed. "Alright. It's settled, then."
"So what exactly is the job?" Ruby asks. "Now that I've agreed to it, and all."
Mulan gives a low chuckle. "Whatever it is, it's worth six million."
"Can't argue with that," Elsa pitches in, "But I'd like to know what it is we're doing." She knits her brow as she leans forward, clasping her hands over her knees. "It's not murder, is it? I'm iffy on murder."
Belle's eyes widen. "Iffy?"
Elsa only smirks back at her.
"No murder," Emma confirms, and Belle looks relieved. "Stealing a gem. Typical rich boy shit." Ruby snorts, leaning back into the couch once more. "Gold said it was last seen in a private collection on Kliemar. Also said that he'd have his assistant send over the details, so I guess we wait for that. In the meantime, Belle, let's get to work on charting a course. We'll need to plan for a couple resupplies along the way – at least two. Best three to be safe."
Belle nods. "On it. When are we shipping out?"
"Soon as possible," Emma says. "Rubes, you're on food and toiletries. Prep for a long journey. Stock us like at least one of the resupplies won't happen, just to be safe. Better weighted down than starving two weeks in."
"You got it," Ruby says, swinging her and Belle's still-intertwined hands.
"And me?" Elsa asks, and Emma flashes her a smile.
"Keep an eye out for those details to show up in the database. I want you to see if you can find anything more on this gem. Gold didn't exactly give me a lot to go on." Elsa nods and Emma turns instead towards Mulan. "You and I should probably pay a visit to our favorite dive bar." Emma grins, and Mulan rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on."
Mulan grimaces. "It always smells like cigarettes and sweat in there," She says, nose wrinkled. "Besides, it'll seem less conspicuous if you go for one drink alone. If there's two of us, we just look like we're having a real bad date."
"Maybe we are," Emma says, and Mulan scoffs.
"You're not my type and you know it."
Emma clutches her hand over her heart in mock-pain. "Oh, you've wounded me."
"And I'll do it again. Go get the time and I'll come for the real meeting."
It's Emma's turn to roll her eyes now. "Fine." She shakes her head, and then turns towards the rest of her team. "Alright, everyone. Break."
The Poisoned Apple is a hole in the wall if Emma's ever seen one. It's tucked away at the edge of the station, down one of the more disused hallways. A few empty storefronts dot the walk down there, and there are muddy footprints where the hall's been neglected by the station's sanitation team. The bar's name isn't even on the sign – instead the flickering red lights just read Mag's.
It's modeled off of the bars on Earth, a tiny place with a seating area, a couple of pool tables, and not much else. A jukebox plays off in the corner, made to look like one from the twentieth century, though the tech inside and the song selections are modern.
A lot of people run weapons on this station, but none come close to touching the couple that runs this place – not for Emma, anyway. She knows without a doubt that they won't screw her over.
It's busy this time of night. Emma weaves through the crowd, sidling straight up to the bar as close to where the bartender is mixing up a cocktail as she can get. Emma leans against the bar and says to her, "Mag."
The woman turns at the mention of her name. Mary Margaret is maybe twenty years older than Emma, with long black hair that's streaked with gray, pulled away from her round face in a simple ponytail. Her eyes flash with recognition as she spots Emma, but she schools it back to neutral immediately and just says, "Take a number, sweetheart," And then turns back to her POS system.
Emma smiles, slipping off to pull a little paper ticket from the reel by the edge of the bar. It's old-fashioned, but effective.
Mary Margaret types something into her screen, presumably an order – at least, to anyone observing from the outside. Emma feels her communicator buzz in her pocket, and smiles to herself.
She stays for a drink. Just one. Mostly for looks, like Mulan had said – it'd be suspicious if she'd just popped up and smiled at the bartender before leaving, after all. But the Earth-style beer is nice, too, and Emma taps the credit transfer to pay for it with a pleasant buzz flowing through her limbs. She waits until she's safely back aboard her ship to pull her communicator from her pocket, and finds, as expected, a message that includes only a time.
She flashes the screen towards Mulan. "Four thirty. After they close."
Mulan rolls her eyes. "Why can't we do business with somebody who wants to meet over lunch? Just once?" Emma grins, and Mulan adds grumpily, "I'm gonna go take a nap."
Four-thirty rolls around quickly. Emma's on the common couch around fifteen til when Mulan wanders in, dark hair drawn back into a messy ponytail and a bulky sweatshirt pulled over her torso. Emma knows it's more for storage capability than it is for comfort, and a duffel bag hangs over her shoulder.
"Ready?" Emma asks with a raised brow.
Mulan glares at her. "Let's get this over with."
"Oh, come on," Emma teases, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch so that she can tug on her boots. "You like Mag and David. It's been forever since we've seen them."
"I don't like their sleeping schedule," Mulan grumbles, and smacks her open palm over the button that controls the outer doors.
"Hey," Emma scolds. "Easy on my ship."
Mulan doesn't even look back. Instead she just waves her hand over her shoulder in a half-hearted apology, and Emma gives the button a loving pat as she passes to make up for her crewmate's rough treatment – and, okay, Emma knows the Bug can't feel anything, but still. She shoots Mulan one last scowl as the doors close behind them.
They don't meet inside the bar, of course. Instead they head around the back way, slipping quietly into the service halls that lead around to the back supply rooms of the business corridor. Eventually, Emma comes across an unassuming door, one of many, numbered and beige. She pulls it open, and Mulan slips inside without a word. It opens into a large storage space, and Emma waits.
David spots her first. "Emma," He greets her warmly, dropping the bag he's holding and walking towards her with open arms. He sweeps her into a hug that is far too tight, and Emma grunts her protest. He's the same age as his wife, roughly, with sandy hair that's turning white at the root. He's still fit for his age, though – Emma puts him somewhere close to fifty, but his frame is still well-muscled, and Emma knows from experience that his reflexes are still just as sharp as her own, if not more. He releases her with a laugh, and then turns towards Mulan with a sheepish grin. She regards him warily, although kindly, and he asks, "Still not a hugger, huh?" Mulan shakes her head and he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder instead. "It's good to see you both. It's been, what? Six months? Would it kill you to visit a little more often?"
Emma smiles. "We've been out of system," She says, and her eyes finally land on Mary Margaret, who is descending a ladder down from the front of her steel storage racks.
"You're late," Mary Margaret calls with a wry glance. It's warm, though, and she gives Emma a hug that is a lot more gentle than her husband's. She smells of alcohol and sweat after running the bar all night, but Emma doesn't mind. It's familiar, and that's comforting, and so Emma sinks into it. Mary Margaret squeezes her arms as she pulls away. She doesn't even attempt a hug with Mulan, just gives her a welcoming smile and asks, "Emma still treating you well?"
Mulan folds her arms across her chest. "Besides dragging me out of bed at four in the morning, yeah."
Mary Margaret grins. "That one's my fault, kid." She turns towards Emma with her arms folded over her chest. "It's good to see you, Em." Her eyes soften. "What are you here for this time? I assume it's not just my company."
"As much as I enjoy it, no." Emma eyes her, trying to decide how much to reveal. "We're going to be going pretty far," She says eventually. "We need weapons with long-lasting batteries. Stuff that we don't have to refuel frequently."
Mary Margaret eyes her. "How long?"
Emma shrugs and says noncommittally, "I don't know. Long. A couple months?"
"Hm," Mary Margaret hums, eyes narrowed. "Heavy use?"
"Let's assume, just to be safe," Mulan pipes up.
"I probably have something. It won't be cheap, though, Em. Not even for you," She warns, and Emma just nods. "Okay. Hold on." She stalks off towards the beams and starts rooting through the chests she's stored on the shelves. Emma crosses her arms while she waits, leans against the nearest trunk – Mulan seems only marginally less comfortable as she leans against the shelving unit to the left. She comes back after a moment, eyes locked on the shiny metal contraption in her hand, and eventually she dusts it off a little and deposits it on the table. She doesn't say anything though, instead going right back to her storage. Emma shares an amused glance with David, who eventually wanders off to help his wife.
Eventually there's a solid line of weapons displayed on the previously empty table. Mulan's already made her way over, running her fingers over the edges with wide eyes.
"Alright," Mag says eventually. "This is everything I've got with an extra long battery life. Most of these you should be able to recharge with some basic materials and energy from your ship, but not all."
Emma frowns, eyeing the assortment that Mulan is currently caressing like a lover. "We'll take whatever we can charge."
Mulan, who'd been tracing her fingers over a particular model Emma knew was not included in that category, scowls. Emma rolls her eyes.
"You're paying for it, then."
That earns her a smile, though it's a sardonic one. Emma only shakes her head and resumes her skimming over the assortment that Mag's laid in front of her. Several of them are too big to be convenient – massive machines as thick as her thigh that she'd have to sling over her shoulder to even aim. She's pretty sure the kickback would take her out. She leaves those behind, instead selecting several more manageable pieces that she picks up one by one and sets towards one end. Mulan adds a few as well, and with her friend's final nod of approval, she looks at David and says, "Alright."
David whistles. "What the hell have you kids gotten yourselves into?"
"Nothing we can't handle."
He shakes his head, a little bit of disbelief in his widened eyes. "For your sakes, I hope so, Em."
Mary Margaret hums. "Same. That's a serious pile you've got there. Seriously expensive, too."
"How much for all of it?"
"For you? Seven thousand. And don't try to haggle," She adds immediately, holding her hand up. "That's the friends and family discount already."
Damn.
Mulan mutters something under her breath. Emma chews on the inside of her lip. She doesn't think she's ever spent seven thousand credits at once in her entire life, save for when she'd bought the Bug.
Still. The deposit Gold had promised them is way more than seven thousand. As long as he comes through with it – and he always does – it'll be worth it.
"Deal," Emma says, and Mag grins.
"Pleasure doing business with you as always, kid. Can't say I ever expected this from you." David says.
"Me neither," Emma replies as she pulls out her card – the one that's tied to a bank account under an alias, based on a small planet outside of Alliance authority – and hands it over to Mary Margaret. She processes it as David helps Mulan pack all their new toys away, and Emma feels a small pang in her chest at the idea of draining her account like that.
And then she remembers six million, and thinks it will all be worth it in the end.
"Emma," Mag begins, startling her out of her thoughts as she reaches out to take Emma's hand in her own. When Emma meets her gaze, she finds nothing but warmth – warmth, and concern. "I know you can take care of yourself, but – just. Be careful out there, okay? This one sounds intense."
Emma squeezes her hand. "Nothing too crazy, Mag. Don't worry. But thank you, we will."
Mag hands her card back with a nod, and when Emma turns, Mulan is holding out a duffel bag to her that's packed heavy enough that her biceps are bulging.
"You get this one," She says, and Emma rolls her eyes. She takes it, though, and Mulan slings her own bag over her shoulder with a smile.
The trudge back to the Bug's docking station goes fairly uneventfully, thankfully. There are no real police on this station – just those hired by the family that owns it, and black market trade is hardly on their radar. They're more about keeping murder to a minimum and profits to the max.
The moment they cross the threshold and the Bug's doors hiss close behind them, Mulan drops her bag. It hits the floor with a thunk that rings through the walls, and Emma winces.
"Easy," Emma hisses, and Mulan grunts.
"I'm going back to bed. I'll put that away once I've had my six hours."
"Isn't it supposed to be eight?" Belle asks, and Emma finally notes her presence. She's sat on the edge of the couch, hunched forward over a map that she's spread out over the coffee table. The panel to her left is lit up with a thick wall of text that Emma doesn't even want to try and decipher in her bleary-eyed state.
"Supposed to be," Mulan calls over her shoulder. "But somebody only does deals at the ass crack of dawn."
Belle shoots Emma an amused look, and Emma shrugs. "Give her a week, she'll forgive me."
"I dunno," Belle says. "Mulan values her beauty sleep."
Emma laughs quietly as she sets her own bag down far more gently than Mulan had. "Clearly." She bends back, stretching her sore muscles. She knows that Mulan's bag had weighed just as much, so she can't actually fault the other woman for assigning her the heavy one – but still. Her shoulders ache.
Belle's eyes drop to the bags. "Go get some sleep, Em. I'll take care of those."
Emma pauses. "You sure?" She asks, but if she's honest – the thought of emptying them and locking each weapon away in storage one by one sounds like torture.
"Sure," Belle says, and then smiles. "I wanna see the goodies, anyway."
"Thanks," Emma says, genuinely grateful. "What have you got so far?" She asks, nodding towards the map.
Belle shifts over on the cushion as Emma heads towards her, allowing her a clearer view. "So far, not much. Our first restock is pretty obviously gonna be on Valkitas Hub."
Emma nods in agreement. "That'd be the least conspicuous, yeah." That station's frequented by humans far more than any other in the area, due to a small colonized planet in a nearby system. It's at the very edge of where most humans travel, but it's still less odd than say, Sthintd, which caters more to a slug-like species called the Trilor. Emma'd gone once. It'd taken three days to get the slime out of the tread of her boots. "Plus, we'll be able to stock up on some more native Earth foods." Food from other systems is usually edible. That doesn't always mean it's pleasant.
"Exactly," Belle says. She points at a dot several systems farther out. "There's a station here, too. I figure we can hit this one if we have to, but it'd make more sense if we head directly for Hjielak from Valkitas. We can refuel and resupply there. Maybe even do a little shopping."
Emma smiles and fights the urge to roll her eyes. Almost every stop, Emma has to allot some time for her crew to hit the shops. Ruby's got a collection of clothing so vast that Emma doesn't even know how she fits it all in her closet. She thinks she must have some stashed in Belle's room, too.
Emma wonders if maybe that's the only reason they haven't moved in together officially. Two rooms means extra storage capacity.
"Of course," She says eventually. "How about after that?"
Belle's smile drops to a frown. "Not sure. Our maps aren't exactly detailed after that. I know for a fact there are habitable planets and stations along the way, I just don't know exactly where they're at or how far they are from one another. We've never really had a reason to keep information on that region."
Emma gives a disgruntled hum. "Damn." She taps her fingers on the back of the couch. "Well," She says, "We'll just have to pick up another map once we get closer. I doubt we'll be able to find anything here, but I'm sure they'll have something once we hit Hjielak. Maybe even on Valkitas, if we're lucky."
Belle nods. "Weird to be going past the Mokka system."
"Yeah," Emma agrees. "It is." Belle doesn't say anything more, and so Emma scrubs a hand over her face and asks, "You're sure you're okay with putting those up?"
"Of course," Belle says. "Go get some sleep." She glances at the corner of the panel she's working on. "It's nearly six in the morning. You've gotta be exhausted."
"Yeah," Emma agrees, "I am. Thanks, Belle."
With that, she squeezes the other woman's shoulder, and steals off towards her quarters.
By the time Emma wanders out into the common area the next morning, unbathed and with her hair scraped into a messy ponytail, voices are already echoing through the corridor. Everyone's up but her, apparently.
"Mornin', Em!" Ruby calls, dropping a bag down on the metal floor with a thud. Elsa catches her wince at Ruby's cheery demeanor and shoots her a sympathetic look that Ruby at least pretends not to catch. "Or should I say afternoon?"
Emma only grunts, and Ruby grins.
"We just finished shopping. Got more outside with Bee, hold on."
Emma eyes the already impressive pile that Ruby's got going, briefly wonders how they're going to fit all of this in the kitchens area, and then remembers through her morning fog that she did ask for Ruby to go overboard. Elsa begins rifling through the items, sorting into piles that Emma assumes she'll carry off to various parts of the ship.
"Lots of preserved stuff," Elsa comments. "Shit that will keep if we get stranded somewhere."
Emma shoots her a glare. "Don't jinx us."
Elsa tilts her head to the side as she holds up her hands and says with amusement, "Just saying." She gestures to a couple bags that she's already set off to the side. "We got a bunch of fruit, too. They actually had apples for once. Oranges, too."
Emma wrinkles her nose. "I don't like the texture," She says, referring to the oranges. Elsa shoots her a look that says I know and Emma adds, "But Mulan will be happy." She glances around the common area. "Is she up yet?"
"Nope," Ruby says, lips popping on the p as she appears once again from the outer doors. Her arms are laden with more shopping bags. "Still asleep."
"Figures," Emma mutters.
"Cut her some slack, you guys were up late as hell." Belle's voice sounds from the doorway, and Emma turns to shoot her a glare.
"She slept more than I did!"
"Yeah, and everyone knows you're a chronic insomniac." Elsa this time, and Emma clutches a hand over her heart dramatically.
"My own sister," She says, and Elsa only rolls her eyes.
"Anyways," Ruby says, eyeing the two of them, "I figured that anything we don't eat I can break down and freeze. This should be enough to get us to Hjielak without relying on canned soup, at least."
"There's a station between Valkitas and Mokka if we need, anyway," Belle says, now actually in the ship proper. The doors hiss shut behind her and Emma assumes that means this is the last of the supplies. "I asked around and there's a pretty popular trade planet called Kha De just after Hjielak, but it's kind of out of the way. We could bounce there if we had to, but it'd add a few days onto the trip."
Emma frowns. "Let's hope we can find a better map once we get a little farther out. There's gotta be something between Hjielak and Kliemar."
Ruby and Belle spend the majority of the morning – afternoon, rather – sorting out the newly obtained supplies to their various storage spaces, and once that's done, they disappear into the kitchen. Emma's just done poring over their database's limited knowledge on Kliemar when they reappear with plates in hand.
"Dinner on the deck," Ruby announces cheerily, "In celebration of expanding our horizons."
Emma eyes the dish in her hand. "Please tell me you didn't make something completely out there."
Ruby flashes her a glare. "No, I did not, thank you very much. It's a burger. I just had to use Eiran cattle instead of real beef."
Emma stifles her sigh of relief in order to save her friend's feelings. It's not that she doesn't like Ruby's cooking, it's just – the ingredients from other planets are unfamiliar, and she doesn't always quite know how to handle them. Eiran cattle, though – Eira is a colonized planet, one without an intelligent species running the show when humans had discovered it, and so its vegetation and livestock have been engineered as close to Earth equivalents as possible. Eiran cattle are about as close as you can get to Terran cows once you leave the Sun system.
"Looks great," Emma comments as Ruby deposits a plate into her lap, and Ruby shoots her a sardonic glance.
"Thanks," She says, and might even be a hint genuine under all that sarcasm.
Elsa takes the most massive bite Emma's ever seen as she pores over the data sent through by Gold's assistant. Juice and sauce dribbles out over her chin, nearly missing the console. She doesn't even notice. Emma contemplates commenting – and then remembers how many meals Elsa'd cooked for her after every shift pulled to buy the Bug in the first place, and considers that maybe the Bug is as much Elsa's as it is hers. In the end, she doesn't say anything, and Elsa swipes the edge of her sleeve over the spilled grease.
"There's not much here," Elsa reports with a frown through a mouth full of burger. "I mean, there's a little. There's not much on the gem itself. Just that it's valuable. And…well, blue." She chews thoughtfully for a moment, swallows, and takes another bite. This time she holds her hand over her full mouth as she continues, "It was last seen on Kliemar. Owned by a collector only known as Blue. No real information on them in this file. This shit's bare bones, Em. I don't know if we can really go off of this."
Emma frowns, staring at her own plate. "We'll have to. We've done jobs with less info before."
"Yeah," Elsa points out, "Within the Wilds. This job brings us into Deadspace."
"Deadspace," Mulan adds, "Without any idea of what we're walking into. We could slam headfirst into Nixa warships for all we know."
"And I could be eaten by a Valdan masshark tomorrow," Emma shoots back. "Or," she continues, "I could hit the lottery and win a billion credits. There's no sense in conjecting."
"I didn't know you knew words that big," Mulan says.
"Fuck off," Emma answers, and takes a bite of her burger big enough to rival Elsa's. It's a mistake: Ruby's added some sort of pepper jelly, and it makes her cough. "Fuck, Rubes – you know I can't handle spicy shit."
"It's delicious though," Ruby replies without missing a beat, and, well…Emma can't disagree, as much as her lips are on fire.
"Whatever," She responds, a little bit indignant. With that she wipes her mouth on a napkin and asks, "Look, guys. I know we don't have a lot to go on, but if we back out of this deal, we're in deep shit with Gold. The man runs half the black market. It'll make it a hell of a lot harder to get jobs if we don't do this. Are you all still on board?"
Elsa scowls. Ruby chews on her burger thoughtfully, and Belle shrugs.
"I don't like it," Elsa says, "But yes. I'm in."
"Same," Ruby murmurs.
"If you get eaten by a masshark I'm out," Belle adds, entirely unhelpfully.
Elsa laughs at it, at least. "What about Mulan?"
Emma scowls. "Snooze, you lose." Guilt eats at her, though, because she'd resolved never to drag her crew into anything uninformed, and with a heave of a sigh she punches a button on the center console. "Mulan, you good to fly even though we know jack shit about where we're going?"
She releases the button. Ruby's stifling a grin. Belle snorts under her breath. A couple seconds pass and then there's a shuffle over the speaker, like Mulan's pulling back a blanket, and then her voice over the tinny speakers: "You woke me up for that? Yes. Let me fucking sleep." There's another shuffle and then the corner of the center panel lights up with a red exclamation point, indicating that Mulan's muted her room's comm.
"Alright then," Emma says. "Let's go."
And they do.
Elsa fills the Bug up a couple hours later – a full tank, of course, given that they want to make it all the way to Valkitas Station without a stop. A hell of a bill, but…the wire transfer had come through, and, well. Gold had been right: the deposit more than covered it.
A hell of a lot more.
The launch into orbit, the transition into deep space: it all goes as it always does. Without a hitch. It's no different than any other time, except this time there's this hush over the crew, this silent buzz with the knowledge that a hell of a fucking reward lies on the other side.
Emma's feeling it too.
There's a restlessness in her limbs, especially the first few days, and she finds herself unable to sleep properly. It's okay, though, because there's not much to do right now. She wakes up, spends her days poring over any files she thinks may be relevant to the gem, and then goes to bed. There's not much to it.
Food, though – food, she savors.
Ruby makes breakfast most mornings – bacon and chicken's eggs and toast slathered with strawberry jam, and Emma savors each bite with the knowledge she'll be eating nothing but Valdan fish and Hjielen plants soon enough. Some of it's good, really – but not all.
Definitely not all.
Emma shudders as she remembers the bitter taste of the Hjielen melon that Belle had once convinced her to try. It had looked so good, too – deceptively juicy and deep red, and then –
Ugh.
Bacon and eggs. She'll have to ask Ruby if she'd found any watermelon, too.
This is how she passes the time, until they hit the next station. It's not much, it's standard stop for them, even, but. It's a change of pace, and that's what matters to Emma. They dock in the late afternoon, and, well.
"I'm going down to the bar," Emma announces, to exactly nobody's surprise. "Anybody want to come with?" She peers around at her crew one by one as each woman gives a noncommittal shrug or shake of her head. "Really? Nobody?"
"Belle and I were going to get some more fresh food before we leave the system. I'm hoping we can find something like tomatoes." Ruby says as she takes Belle's hand in her own.
"Alright," Emma says. "Els? Mulan?"
"Shopping," Mulan replies apologetically, a sheepish smile at her lips.
Elsa nods. "Sorry, Em. We don't get out this far too often. I wanna see what they've got."
Emma shakes her head. "Alright," She echoes. "Fine. Well, you all know where to find me if you need me."
To Emma's delight, the bar sells Earth-style alcohols. That is a perk of humanity's pervasive nature, Emma thinks: some might call them a weed of a species, but they've wormed their way throughout the known galaxy for better or for worse, and at least it means that several species of aliens have discovered the beauty of hops.
"Beer please," Emma says, trying to keep her excitement under wraps. The bartender, a woman of a species Emma doesn't know the name of, tilts her head to the side and gestures at a variety of taps. "Whatever you recommend."
She nods, her kelp-like hair – or, at least, something that grows out of her head – bobbing with the motion. She fills a glass, slides it across the counter, and Emma taps her credit transfer with a smile. The beer is hearty and frothy, the music in the background something alien with a low beat, and Emma settles in with one elbow on the bar as she watches the crowd mill around her.
Most of the occupants hail from a nearby planet called Ijenka, a tall and lithe people with five eyes spanning the entire circumference of their head that lets them see in all directions at once. Emma's kind of jealous. She'd been to Ijenka once and the infrastructure had been dizzying to navigate with only front-facing eyesight. The planet's less than a day's trip from here, and Emma wonders how many of these people live here as an extension of their homeland, like Mag does on the Angel, and just how many of them are only passing through on their way to further unknown.
She finishes her beer pretty quickly. Maybe a little too quickly – there's a heaviness to her limbs as she slips out of the barstool and pushes her glass farther back on the counter.
That's the thing about alien alcohol, she thinks. You never can know just how strong it is unless you ask.
The crowd parts for her as she wanders through the bar – poor, drunk, front-sighted human – and she soon finds herself in the main hallway. It's a busy area, full of Ijenka and several other species milling about. It's lined with stalls. Emma wanders forward, wondering if maybe one of them might have a map beyond. Hjielak. It's unlikely at best. Still, she pushes forward, eying the different merchandise each of the stalls offers and wondering which might offer that which she actually needs.
At least one of them is advertising star charts, several prominently displayed on actual paper of all things, hanging from the awning, and she makes her way over to that one. The merchant eyes her warily as she thumbs through a stack, and she tries her best to keep her hands visible.
This isn't the kind of place you want to cause trouble.
"Got anything farther out?" She asks without looking up, and the merchant grunts and jabs a bony finger at the stack to her right.
"To Ina Da."
Emma frowns. Ina Da's the system where Kha De is located, and while they could use a more detailed map of that are, it doesn't really help them. "Past that?"
Only another noncommittal grunt, and Emma takes that as a no. Still, she leafs through the pile he'd indicated – and finds nothing even past Mokka, let alone to Ina Da. "Great," She mutters, and then turns to head to the next stall.
– And runs headfirst into another person.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry –"
Emma stumbles back, wondering what the hell the likelihood of running into another person on a station populated mostly by Ijenkan is. Probably not very big. Hell, she should buy a lotto ticket. Blinking, she finally looks up at the person she's practically just run over.
"Oh." The word escapes before she can stop it. "Hello."
Beautiful. She's…beautiful.
And human.
Emma's still a little drunk.
"Hello," The woman echoes, a little glint of amusement to the word. "It's alright."
Emma blinks again, wonders exactly how much alcohol had been in that beer, and eyes the woman in front of her. She's got tan skin, and her dark hair consists of wild curls that she's got pulled back into a long braid at her back. She's got a jacket on, a practical heavy material that's not quite denim, and Emma suspects that she's got more than a few weapons stored underneath it. A neat white button up that feels far too pristine for a place like this offsets the look, undone just low enough to be suggestive and tucked into tight brown pants. Straight-laced boots, and those are the only giveaway that she's not as prim as Emma might have thought: they're nicely polished, well maintained, but beaten at the soles and scuffed at the edges. Her face is free of makeup, and the blue lights of the hall just barely catch a scar at her upper lip. Her eyes are dark, and they shine as she gives Emma the same appraisal.
The woman is beautiful, that much is obvious – both at first glance and in Emma's tell-tale foot in mouth syndrome. But more importantly, she's human.
"You're from Earth," Emma ventures, based on the woman's accent – or lack thereof, rather, to her terran ears. She nods, just a slight inclination of her jaw, but doesn't confirm further. "We don't meet many other Earth-based crews this far out in the Wilds."
"I get restless," Is all she says. "What's your excuse?"
"The same," Emma says, and the corners of the other woman's lips twitch up in a smile. It's an obvious lie, on both parts – a common excuse for those who don't want others sniffing around at their true intentions. This area of space is unregulated by any one governing body, save for the powerful merchants that run the Docks, and it's a breeding ground for illicit activity.
She hums, and gives Emma one last glance over before she licks her lips and straightens up, saying, "Well. It's always nice to meet a fellow Terran. I should be getting back."
"Right," Emma murmurs, as the woman turns. There's something about her, though, and – "Join me for a drink?"
The last thing Emma needs to be doing right now is putting more of that alien alcohol into her system, but still. She can pretend to sip, she reasons, or maybe just sip really slowly.
The woman pauses at least, and for a moment Emma actually thinks she's going to accept the invitation. She glances back over her shoulder, just barely, not enough for Emma to see her face – and replies, "No. Thank you. Safe travels."
With that, she strides off. Emma just barely manages to catch a glimpse of her meeting up with another dark-haired human woman before she melts into the crowd.
Huh.
"We've got competition," Emma says, as soon as she makes it back to the decks of the Bug.
"What do you mean?" Belle's at the console, feet kicked up on the common's dash like Emma's told her not to do a million times. Emma eyes the soles of her boots and she scowls, but ultimately drops them. She's a sweet girl – but she pushes boundaries.
"Humans," Emma says. Belle sits up immediately.
"This far out?"
"This far out," Emma confirms with a slight nod. Ruby pokes her head out from the couch.
"So, what, you think they're working for Gold, too?" She asks, brow furrowed.
Emma gives a grimace. "Who else do you know of hiring human crews all the way out here?" She steps forward and nudges Belle away from the console, who obliges with only a slight scowl. Emma pulls up the button that allows her to access the loudspeakers, and then says, "Common room, everybody. Got news."
The rest of the crew – Mulan and Elsa, that is – file in, curiosity flitting across of each of their faces. Mulan comes to lean against the wall dividing the console from the sitting area, and Elsa just stands at the center of the room, arms across her chest.
"So what's the news, sis?"
Emma relays the experience – omitting exactly how attractive she'd found the woman. "She was cagey," Emma says when she gets to the end. "I'm pretty sure she was hiding something."
"We're all hiding something, Em. We're in the Wilds," Mulan points out, skepticism clear as day in her tone.
"I agree," Elsa says tentatively, catching her lower lip between her teeth. "It's weird to see other humans this far out," She concedes with a slight incline of her head towards Emma, "But not unheard of. Hell, we've been to the Mokka system a handful of times just for the marketplace. It's probably just a coincidence."
Emma frowns. "I don't know. It seemed…shady, the way she pinned me out of the crowd. I think she was looking for me."
"Even if she was, what are we going to do, take them out?" Mulan challenges her, crossing her arms over her chest. Emma shoots her a withering glance, and she adds, "I just don't see what you expect us to do about it. As far as I'm concerned, we get in, get the gem, and get back. If they wanna play dirty, we'll deal with it. We did get that heavy duty shit off of Mag for a reason."
Emma frowns. That's true – not that she wants to admit it. Still. She opens her mouth to speak, and is cut off by Elsa.
"Hate to break it to you, Em, but she's got a point. Besides, they might not even be working for Gold."
The corner of Mulan's mouth quirks up in a smirk – about as blatant as she gets with the gloating, but it's enough to grate at Emma's nerves.
"Okay, I get it," Emma grits out, and huffs. "I want everyone keeping an eye out, though. Keep the peripheral scanners up. I want to know about any ships that are following us."
"Please don't bite my head off, but…" Ruby begins, trailing off when Emma turns that frown in her direction. "We're following a major trading route right now. There are bound to be at least a dozen ships heading in the same direction. How are we supposed to know if any of them are actually following us?"
Emma draws in a deep breath before she speaks again. Snapping at her team isn't something she likes to make a habit of, it's just – they need this job, and something about the woman had just…gotten under her skin, and it hadn't only been her attractive face. Ruby mutters out a sorry, and Emma says with a sigh, "No, no. You're right. I'm sorry. Just…keep an eye out for Earth classes, okay? I don't want to get blindsided here."
"I'll keep the scanners up," Belle says, and Emma gives her a grateful glance.
"Thank you," Emma says, and then she leaves it at that. "Did you find your tomatoes?" She asks, only a little bit grumpy.
"No." Ruby scowls, and falls back against the couch cushions with a dramatic huff. "Nothing even close. So much for my blt."
