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the arrival

EMRYS Malik settled further into the padded captain's chair, facing broad screens that projected a view of outer space just outside the Estrella

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EMRYS Malik settled further into the padded captain's chair, facing broad screens that projected a view of outer space just outside the Estrella. Unfamiliar stars gleamed outside, waiting to be mapped and explored, and Emrys felt himself smile.

Beside Emrys, the slender fingers of the pilot, Mikhail Luxson, moved over the panels—he was checking their position to ensure they had come to the right place, frequently referencing the extensive star map pulled up on the computer panel beside him. Luxson squinted, twisting over his shoulder without adjusting his hunched position to examine the star chart while keeping his hands on the panels. He was good at that, that sort of firm concentration that had him constantly checking his work, no matter his confidence. Emrys liked that about him.

About six feet behind Emrys, Lily Young hunched over a rounded and raised holograph console, her nose almost buried in the glowing stars she studied. Her posture was terrible, but she was focused and cared about doing her work right. Maybe a bit too focused, Emrys thought, but dedicated for sure. Her dark afro was like a cloud around her head, a thought that made Emrys smile a little.

Two other stations sat apart from the rest of the crew: the communications bay, where Armie Abernathy currently sat, informing the mission coordinators back on Earth of their arrival; and the reactor monitoring station, occupied by Riley Horatio, the youngest member of the team at only twenty-three. Abernathy's voice was quiet, though audible in the background of Emrys' thoughts. It was almost comforting in its reassurance that the comms actually worked this far out, that they could contact the folks back home.

Behind him, Emrys heard a rustle of cloth as Paris Mays, the crew doctor, stood from her seat and came forward. He could tell it was her by the click of her shoes—impractical sharp-toed pure white ones that he was pretty sure she only owned to make her look extra-professional. And when she leaned her arms on the back of Luxson's chair, putting her face right up against the pilot's. He visibly tensed at her approach, and Emrys turned his attention to them. Mays, it had taken little time to figure out, was quite the antagonist when she wanted to be, and it was quite clear that she found Luxson to be an easy target. She wasn't entirely wrong, he was quiet and thoughtful, but Emrys made a note to keep an eye on Mays.

"Sure we're in the right place?" she said, smirking, poking him a little on the shoulder. Luxson shrugged her off, not that she seemed to care.

"Yes, Doctor Mays," he sighed, "Please stop leaning on me, I'm trying to work." The doctor huffed, but straightened up, flicking her dark hair over one shoulder.

"Captain, I'm going to go to my med bay," she said, "and make sure space travel didn't disrupt anything." She stood, in a position that said she would go whether Emrys told her she could or not, with her arms crossed. It took more self-control than Emrys would have liked to admit to not bristle at her words, but he managed it.

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