Work Text:
Temporal Coordinates: 3120.188
Relative Time Units: Confirmed…
Log Countersign: Sheridan.
“Systems Check. All clear. Vital Signs. Stable. Comms feed. Online. Moonlet is greenlight.” Sydney rattled through the usual updates absentmindedly. She could assess the stasis logs and reconfigure the system support in her sleep. She had, once. Thankfully, no disaster struck. The satellite was her home, had been for over two decades. She knew every nook and cranny of the vessel like she knew herself. Better even. Once the usual necessities were out of the way and she knew that Mission Control would be signing off, she allowed her thoughts to wander. They were often prone to. What better way to pass the seemingly endless time? “Blue looks extra beautiful today, don’t you think? There’s something vibrant about her.” It was a wonder to no one at all that blue was her favorite color. Perhaps she was biased from staring at the Earth for the entirety of her life, but she thought the planet was utterly bewitching. The soft haze of white— clouds, ice, and snow. Words that felt so familiar, yet distant. She dreamed of touching them. What would they feel like in her palm? On her fingertips? In her hair?
There was a time when the blue had faded, the vibrancy and color dulled and greyed out. The Earth was sick and dying, the people with it. So they left, finding life outside of the only planet they’d ever known. Sydney knew the history like the lines in her palm, reiterated like a bedtime story. She couldn’t help but think how brave those first explorers had been. Now, humanity was scattered to the far reaches of the galaxy. And she, like many of the other satellites dotting the edges of the stars, were tasked with surveying, studying, and order. She took her duty seriously, of course, but one could only monitor celestial vitals for so long without boredom consuming them. She often found herself distracted, thoughts lofty as she wondered what life had been like all those years ago. How different would it be now? “She’s calling to me again. Tell her I won’t be long now, okay?” Cutting the feed, she sat back in her chair, admiring the view with the same awe as the very first time.
The soft chime of her alarm noted the start of the day. The reinforced panels gave their usual wheeze of protest as they slid into place, blocking her view of the Earth and the stars. Artificial light flooded the interior, mimicking the sun. Stretching, she stood from the captain’s chair, ribbons of dark braids cascading down her back, nearly brushing against the floor. She gathered the hair in sections, making large plaits to braid her hair into her usual style— a singular braid weaved together from the dozens of small ones, twisted up into a large bun at the base of her neck. A takedown, wash, and cut were long overdue, but living alone on a solitary aircraft was the perfect avenue for procrastination. Tomorrow. Wash day would be tomorrow.
She carelessly sped through her fitness routine, halfassed and unenthused, but grateful to get the worst part of her day over with. After, she showered before making breakfast. Shipments of provisions came monthly, like clockwork. Most were rations that kept, but she always enjoyed the rarity of fresh produce once in a blue moon. This month, she had been graced with some sort of root vegetable, fragrant yet hardy. She liked to get creative at mealtime, finding new and interesting ways to combine her fares. Mission Control would frown on the waste of time and resources, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Once her hunger was satiated, she busied herself with the usual tasks of craft upkeep and maintenance. Nothing major flagged in the systems check, which meant there was minimal astral damage. A few hours of tinkering and the ship was in tiptop order once again.
With her chores complete, and still hours yet until dinner and bed, Sydney spent the afternoon as she often did: reading, writing, and lost in her unending thoughts. The satellite's database was extensive, giving the virtual library access to more books, articles, and periodicals than she could count. Her interests ebbed and flowed, pulled in different directions like the tide, but more often than not she found herself gazing longingly at all manuscripts and publications about Earth. She spent hours pouring over the texts, hands shifting through the holograms of tomes and scrolls. When her body finally protested, neck sore from being bent over her reading and stomach growling at the late hour, she made swift work of dinner. Once she had her fill, she cleaned and tidied up the space, doing her secondary rounds and perimeter checks. Another run of diagnostics were clear, as they usually were. The panels groaned as they lifted, darkness encompassing the ship as the artificial light faded. With her tasks for the day complete, she mindlessly moved through her nighttime routine. Face washed, teeth brushed, hair untwisted, pajamas on. She activated the ambient tracking and alarms before crawling into bed. From her sleeping nook, tucked away in the corner of the main foyer, she could still peer out into the endless cosmos, the distant silhouette of the Earth peering back.
“Goodnight, Blue.” She closed her eyes and drifted off, knowing that stars would be awaiting her when she woke.
The soft chime of her morning alarm was not what pulled her from her sleep, nor was it her usual circadian rhythm that had her eyes gently fluttering open on the hour. The violent buzz of her wrist comms ripped her from slumber, the shock so jarring it rattled her bones all the way up to her shoulder. Sydney jerked upright, blinking and confused. It took several seconds for her gaze to focus on the alert: perimeter alarm. She groaned, lurching out of the comfort of her bed to trudge over to the console. An errant asteroid hurdling too close or even a solar flare from the sun could set off the sensitive system. She would just need to confirm there was no real danger to the vessel to silence the alarms. Toggling through the system, she quickly pulled up the mappings of the synthetic aperture radar. There was nothing visible on the mappings. She paused, brow furrowing. That was odd. She quickly toggled to the phased array radar, sharp gaze sifting through the standard debris and background noise to see a small object circling the satellite. Docking.
“What the f—”
The breech alarm howled, giving two loud wails before cutting off. The entire satellite shuttered as the craft latched on, attaching itself to the docking bay. Sydney nearly fell out of her chair, holding onto the console for dear life. Fear gripped her, locking her limbs into place. Shit. Shit shit shit. Was it a pirate? A scraper? A vulture? She allowed herself a moment of panic before lifting a hand to smack herself in the face. Hard.
“Get it together.” She scolded herself quietly, detaching from the console and springing to her feet. She needed to act, and fast. She cut the main power, reserves booting on with an eerie hum. The emergency lights flickered on and off at an obscure cadence, painting the scene like something from one of those twentieth century horror films. She scrambled into the open area of the main deck, fitting herself into the supply closet and trying to quiet her breathing. Her hands roamed the space for something heavy, ready to wield her weapon.
Seconds stretched into eons until the airlock finally slid open. A dark form slowly slunk in, silent and draped in black. The shadow seemed to survey the space before stalking through the darkness. Sydney watched through the slats in the metal, observing the figure rummage around the room in search of something. What, exactly, she couldn’t quite decipher. She watched and waited. When the intruder was preoccupied at the station across from her hiding place, she carefully pushed open the closet. Sucking in a steadying breath, she let out her fiercest battle cry before launching from the cabinet, swinging her weapon— one of the tungsten plated toolboxes— to connect with the invader’s crown. Their body fell to the ground with a loud thud, laying limp. She stood over the still form, case still lifted above her head, ready to swing again. The stranger didn’t move. She worried, briefly, she may have killed them. She nudged the body with her toe. It barely budged.
“Shit. Shit!” She fumbled the case, setting it to the side as she dropped to her knees. With dedicated effort and a loud groan, she managed to roll the intruder on their back. She planted her cheek to their chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of breathing, hearing the constant drumming of a heartbeat. Relief flooded her as she sank back, giving them a once over. She didn’t want to kill anyone, even if they were trying to steal her ship, or something on it. Glancing around the room, she hunted for supplies. She pulled one of the two chairs from the kitchenette into the middle of the room, finding some excess cable and rope from the storage. Grabbing a hold of their ankles, she dragged the inert thief to the chair. After several minutes of struggling, she managed to get the unconscious body into the chair, each limb tied down. After triple checking the knots, she sat in the chair across from them, staring through the dim light at their unmoving form. Curiosity got the best of her. Perhaps it was practical, too. Know thy enemy. Leaning forward, she snatched the hood off their cloaked features like ripping off a bandaid.
A crop of blonde curls hung limply before her.
Sydney flinched back, skipping away as if the stranger was prone to biting. After a pause, and certainty they were still far from conscious, she slowly drew closer. Fingers gingerly pressed under their jaw, lifting their head and bringing their face into the faint, flickering lights. Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. He was handsome. His features looked soft and round, despite the pronounced nose and sharp jaw. His lips slightly pouted in his sleep, giving him an air of youth and innocence. She pulled her hand away as if she’d been shocked, watching as his head drooped lazily once more. She managed to pull herself together, checking the restraints again for good measure before heading back to her station. A manual override locked the docking bay, sealing the craft and whatever else may be lurking inside. She cut on the power, running a systems check to ensure nothing of importance had been tampered with. When she was certain all lights were green, she let out the breath she’d been holding. She returned to bed, although the rest of her limited rest hours were less than comfortable. She only managed to half snooze, her eyes darting back to the captive she held in the middle of the room.
When her waking alarm chimed, she was greeted by a pair of lucent blues boring into her.
Sydney yelped, nearly falling from her bed. She crawled to her feet, managing to silence the alarm before standing erect. She tried to make herself taller, more intimidating. From the mirth that twinkled in his gaze, she didn’t think her efforts had the effect she wished. The intruder opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to silence him.
“Please hold. I have to log or the alarm will keep going.” Please hold? Why was she saying please to an invader and thief?! She cringed at herself, not bothering to wait for his response before turning to the console. She sat in the captain’s chair just as she had a thousand times before. This time felt odd, having an audience. She cleared her throat before starting.
Temporal Coordinates: 3120.189
Relative Time Units: Confirmed…
Log Countersign: Sheridan.
“Systems Check. All clear. Vital Signs. Stable. Comms feed. Online. Moonlet is greenlight.” Instead of her usual flourish, she finished her logging as quickly as possible, cutting the feed before swiveling to look at her guest. If she could really call him that.
“Okay. Speak.”
“Am I a dog now?” A brow pulled as he scoffed, shooting her a look. She returned it in kind, arms crossing over her chest.
“If I say so. You’re lucky, you know. Most people aren’t kind to raiders.” She spoke with the sort of authority, like she knew. She didn’t. Not from experience, anyways. Only from textbooks and warnings.
“You call this kind?” He gestured towards his body tied to the chair with his chin, disbelief coloring his tone and features. She almost felt bad.
“You’re breathing, aren’t you?” He rolled his eyes at the response, clearly unenthused. Any feelings of remorse were quickly dampened, replaced with annoyance.
“I’m not a raider by the way.” He met her gaze, his fierce and pointed. She would have been offended at being called a raider as well, but she wasn’t going around trying to usurp other ships.
“Oh, my mistake. What do you call someone who breaks into a vessel and starts stealing?”
“I didn’t know it was a manned ship. There are no signals this far out. I was taking supplies that would rot otherwise. I thought this was abandoned. Like the others.” She flinched like she’d been slapped. His words cut into her, fear and self doubt flooding her. It was difficult being alone, but it was for the greater good. The cause. And knowing her brethren out there were fighting the good fight alongside her often dulled the ache of loneliness. She couldn’t help but wonder how many vessels like hers had been abandoned, left to drift aimlessly amongst the stars. How many like her were left?
“Well, it’s clearly not.” She bit her lip, hoping she didn’t sound as deflated as she felt.
“No. It’s not.” His intense gaze pinned her to the spot. She flushed, feeling hot and embarrassed for no good reason.
“I have things to do.” Clearing her throat, she quickly stood, brushing her hands down the fabric of her pajama pants.
“Uh.. What about these?” He shrugged, the ties that tethered him still taut and unyielding. She shook her head. She may not know the ways of the worlds, but she wasn’t a fool.
“I will see if your story checks out.” She wasn’t sure what her plan was, but that would buy her enough time to figure it out. He appraised her for a moment before nodding.
“Okay. Fair enough.” With little else to say, or do, he settled back into the chair. “I’m Carmy, by the way. You can check my manifest.”
She gave him a parting nod before moving to make her bed. She heard a soft sound behind her.
“Woah…” She glanced over her shoulder, watching him watch her as if he was witnessing a star exploding. “Your hair…”
“What?” A hand moved to her braids almost defensively.
“It’s insane… I’ve never seen hair that long before.” He blinked slowly. Her nose wrinkled, brow furrowing. Was he making fun of her? He shook his head, like he could read the thoughts in her mind. “It’s pretty.”
“....Thanks.”
Sydney elected to bypass fitness for the morning, feeling it would be far too weird to have some stranger watching her work out from the chair she tied him to. She made smoothies for breakfast, mostly because it was fast and easy, but also so she wouldn’t have to untie Carmy to allow him to eat. Sure, he was a captive, but she wasn’t a monster. She wouldn’t torture him or starve him or try to pry information out of him in some weird way. If what he was saying was true, then she would let him go on his merry way.
Her shower was longer than usual thanks to her lengthy wash day routine, but it gave her plenty of time to think. Through the detangling, sectioning, shampooing, and deep conditioning, she formulated a strategic game plan. She was going to ask him questions and compare her findings to whatever she found on his ship. If everything aligned, she would be very apologetic, offer whatever excess rations she had, and send him on his way. If not, then she would… Okay, she hadn’t figured out that part yet. She wasn’t judge, jury, and executioner. She couldn’t stand the thought of others in pain, let alone her being the one to inflict it. Maybe she would offer up some empty threats. Something to make him steer clear, or second guess the thought of coming back. A bonk to the head was enough for most, but some people needed extra motivation to be deterred. She could make something up on the fly, if it came to it. She was good with a kitchen knife.
Once she was cleaned, dried, and dressed, she returned to the main room to find her captive right where she left him. Sydney took the seat across from him, unfurling her hair alongside her braid assist. She began each braid, parting the strands and moisturizing them before the tiny robotic cylinder began twisting the pieces together. He watched her, wide eyed and enamoured. She cleared her throat, ignoring the way her stomach fluttered.
“So where did you come from?" Easy start. Something verifiable on the manifest.
“Ever. EMP Sector. It’s basically New Chicago.” He answered without skipping a beat. She nodded as if she knew the star map by heart, as if those words meant anything to her.
“Where are you going?”
“Earth.” She paused, confusion evident on her features. He stared back at her like his answer was the most normal thing in the universe.
“Why?” Earth was not a destination planet. It was uninhabited and had been for centuries. Most didn’t even venture into this part of the galaxy, let alone take an earthbound excursion. Even Sydney, the single occupant of Moonlet, the satellite specifically manned for Earth, had never stepped foot on the surface.
“Why not?” The question seemed earnest, which only added to her confusion.
“Because people don’t go there?” Was it not evident by the fact that his parsec was desolate? Had he not learned his lesson from all the allegedly abandoned satellites in its wake?
The smile he gave her unmoored her. Perhaps the artificial gravity had finally given out. She was no longer planted, her body floating aimlessly through space.
“I’m not most people.”
Temporal Coordinates: 3120.203
Relative Time Units: Confirmed…
Log Countersign: Sheridan.
“Systems Check. All clear. Vital Signs. Stable. Comms feed. Online. Moonlet is greenlight.” The sound of breakfast reached her before the smell. Carmy was an excellent chef. Probably the best. And it wasn’t because Sydney only had her own cooking, or premade rations, to compare it to. Watching him move in the small space of her kitchenette felt like witnessing art being made. It had only been a few days since he revealed this skill, but she was quite certain there was no way she would ever tire of watching him.
Two weeks ago, his answers checked out. He waited patiently while she scoured his ship for hours, searching every nook and cranny for a spec of evidence otherwise. His manifests, his location pings, even the illogical stories of his travels— everything was accounted for. When she returned to release him, she noted the ties had all been loosened and re-tied. When she questioned him, he feigned ignorance. After several days of pressing, he finally admitted to having freed himself the very first night. He gained consciousness shortly after she fell asleep, and realizing she was the one who tied him there, he hadn’t had any interest in escaping.
“Besides, I figured you felt safer if I was immobile.” He shrugged, plating a mix of grains and eggs and hash that made her mouth water.
“Yeah, but you weren’t.” She countered, tone not nearly as harsh as she’d hoped.
“Yeah, but you didn’t know that.” His lips tugged a half smile, the one she had learned quite early on was utterly devastating to her mental wellbeing. She shoveled the breakfast into her mouth to stop from saying something silly.
The pair quickly fell into a routine: Sydney or Carmy cooked breakfast, the other cooked dinner. They followed her usual schedule. He tried not to laugh at her workouts and failed. She beat him in chess and mancala and backgammon. They read, shoulder to shoulder, temples thinking together when one had a question to ask the other. He learned the in’s and out’s of her satellite. She modded his ship— it was in dire need of maintenance. She was impressed he’d managed to get this far without imploding. He watched her diligently, claiming he was taking notes for the future, but she was certain he wasn’t. He helped to tie up her hair on days when it was being unreasonable, his touch as delicate and precise as his knife skills.
At night, they laid in bed. She offered her lodgings and he refused, saying he’d take the floor or go back to his ship. She thought it silly considering her bed could be bunked. Removing the storage from underneath took less time than dressing the new sheets. They often laid on their sides, both peering out the windows, the stars twinkling in the distance.
“Do you want to go with me?” Carmy broke the easy silence, the question one she knew had been lingering on his tongue but too afraid to ask.
“Go with you? To Earth?” She knew what he was asking. He knew that she knew. There was no use in playing these games, yet she couldn’t help but be coy. Some conversations were too difficult to tackle head on, and Sydney was ill equipped.
“No, to the Whirlpool Galaxy.” He tugged playfully on the end of her braid that hung from the edge of the bed.
“I couldn’t.”
“Syd. You could.”
“I don’t know..”
“I've always wondered what it would be like to lay on a beach, look up at the stars.” The words were familiar because they were her very own.
“Did you access my logs?” Anger bubbled up, tampered only by embarrassment. Wide eyes watered on instinct, lip quivering. Teeth sunk into them as she turned to hide the heat that reddened her features. She never shared those thoughts with anyone. She'd never had anyone to share those thoughts with. Even if she did, would she have wanted to? Weren't some longings always meant to be lonely?
“You've watched the earth for twenty years but never thought of setting foot on it?” He dodged the question with a practiced ease.
“That’s different. Those were only dreams.” She sighed, exasperated and tired.
“So?” His tone was too even, too cool. As if nothing mattered. She felt the urge to take another swing at him.
“So?!”
“So..” She saw his silhouette come into view. He stood at her bedside, pinning her to the mattress with that unrelenting gaze of his. His hand extended to her, palm up. Beckoning. “Let's make your dream come true.”
Temporal Coordinates: 3120.217
Relative Time Units: Confirmed…
Log Countersign: Sheridan.
Sand shifted between her toes, her feet sinking in deeper with every small wiggle. Sydney was sprawled across the beach, warm water licking at her heels. Her head was cushioned by Carmy’s abdomen, their hands intertwined. She had never seen the sunrise or sunset. He promised her both.
She stretched like a lazy cat in the sun, rolling over onto her stomach. He adjusted his arm, allowing her a pillow of his bicep. She thanked him with a kiss.
“So, what do you think?” She tried to sit up, leaning away only to be pulled back in again.
“Hmm?” He hummed sleepily, his lips brushing over hers as he stole another kiss. She smiled against his lips, hands pushing on his chest with no real force.
“Is it everything you dreamed of?”
He paused, lashes fluttering as his eyes slowly opened. Her favorite color greeted her as he gazed up at her. He had this way of looking at her that made her stomach ache and her chest tighten in the best and worst ways. His hand moved to her face, thumb stroking her cheek with a gentleness that made her heart race.
“No. It’s better. So much better.”
They laid on the beach, looking up at the stars. And it was better than anything she ever dreamed of.