It started as s low hum, a fuzzy dot of annoyance emanating waves of indignation as its power came ever closer and started to register on Emmalin’s radar. Background chatter and feelings she was used to dialling out, but this was particularly vitriolic and as it came forever closer Emmalin realised it was aimed at her. Unable to concentrate on her PADD, the New Captain of the Starship Walter Scott looked up towards the Ready Room door, listening to the voice that had, from mumbles become a yell in her mind.

These younguns comin’ in, all they wanna do is climb up that ladder, don’t know nothin’… don’t matter whose toes they tread on. God dammit, givin’ up my ship to some crazy butterfly lady. I’m busy as heck I don’t need supervision. I know what I’m doin’.

The chime to her Ready Room sounded and Emmalin admitted the voice which now had a face and body attached to it. If surprise could be quantified numerically she was precisely zero percent surprised at the owner and had anticipated certain feelings towards her based on what she’d read. What she hadn’t anticipated was his lack of forethought about the concept of having a Betazoid Captain.

“Commander Williams, please sit down,” she offered as Williams strode into the room. He was a proud man, clearly, and an effective officer, but he had been passed over (again) for command of Walter Scott due to his firey temper and emotional decision-making. Emmalin had wondered if her being assigned as his new Captain was some sort of odd joke, or given her abilities whether she’d be able to coach him into the centre seat. That remained to be seen, and most of what remained to be seen was down to him. She was willing. Was he? Williams nodded thanks and sat down across the grand desk that Emmalin was still getting used to.

“I note the preparations are ahead of schedule,” she commented. “That is no doubt down to your experience so you have my thanks for that.”

No reply. Emmalin sighed and sat back in the plushly upholstered chair. It was of the ship’s period, mid 24th century, trimmed in beige leather and no doubt re-trimmed many times across the decades. The leather squeaked, permeating the silence.

“It might interest you to know that this… command wasn’t what I was anticipating, gunning for or indeed particularly wanted,” she went on. “Now I’m here I intend for it to be a very great success, but for that to happen we will need to work together, despite our individual disappointments. I know you will do everything you can for the crew, my question is, given that I didn’t wish to take this command from those who particularly wanted it, will you do the same for me?”

Emmalin’s black eyes that had been darting to the right of the ceiling composing her sentences fell back to Williams. They were covered briefly by a blink or two. Williams nodded in consideration.

“Yes, Captain. I will. I’ll admit I sure wanted that chair you’re sittin’ in. You know it, I know it. I ain’t gonna pretend like I didn’t. Hell it’s startin’ to look like I ain’t never gonna get it. And I’m gettin’ on a bit. Dents a man’s pride, y’know.”

Emmalin appreciated his candor and his openness. At least he was clever enough not to try to hide things from a Betazoid. That or this was just who he was, Emmalin wasn’t sure yet. At age fifty two, Williams was older for a Lieutenant Commander. On reading his personnel file the new Captain of the Walter Scott had noted he was experienced, organised, fair and well respected, but he let emotion compromise his decision making and as yet Starfleet hadn’t allowed him the opportunity of overall command.

“I can imagine. As you know I’m a scientist,” she returned. “A Xenobiologist. I was expecting to be commanding the mission to Lorran five and taking my family and Ensign Lorrus with me. Having my husband and daughter on a Starship and therefore, in potential danger isn’t quite what I had in mind. But Starfleet have decided I should be commanding a ship in a diplomatic task force. We go where the orders take us. But I think there is an opportunity here for us both, if you’ll indulge me?”

The fire in Williams mind had dulled somewhat. Emmalin’s perpetual calm and soothing voice had a habit of de-escalating the most potent of situations. That was one of the reasons she supposed she was of latter years wearing red, rather than blue.

“Of course. ‘s your show, Captain.”

Captain. Emmalin still wasn’t used to the term. Brushing aside the oddness of the sound and setting the points to take it onto another line for now, she continued her original train of thought.

“As you know, I have experience in diplomacy, command, scientific encounters, inter-species relations… yet I have not commanded a starship, not full time, anyway. And a good portion of my time as X.O. of the Manderley I was running an expedition, not the ship. But, Starfleet felt my achievements with the Lorrans were worth a diplomatic command. I will be relying on your expertise and I know the ship will be functioning to the best standards with you as Executive Officer. Work with me to improve the gaps in my knowledge and experience that’ll make me not just a diplomat and scientist but a solid all-around Starship Captain. In return, if you are agreeable, I shall help you to put that final notch in your belt that’ll get you this chair, or one like it. Do we have an accord?”

Eugene Williams considered this offer for a moment. She wasn’t going to try to keep him down or in his place. She wasn’t talking down to him, quite the opposite, and there was an honesty and gentility about her that was endearing. The point about her family hit home. Williams’ own daughter was the Alpha shift pilot aboard Walter Scott. Gene was immensely proud and yet still concerned about her safety should the ship come into combat. Or rather when, it was inevitable eventually, even if the Challenger class wasn’t designed primarily for battle. The sides of his mouth turned down, stretching his grey goatee with them as he nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes ma’am. I think we got a deal.”

Emmalin smiled.

“Very well. What’s the latest on our preparations?” She asked.

“Aside from a couple things we basically set. Warp core’s gonna take a sweet while to come online, some problem with the injectors. New Chief Engineer’s all over it, boy is she a handful…”

Just what I need, Emmalin thought.

“…maybe you could go talk to her? Didn’t seem to be too interested in bein’ interrupted for progress reports, apparently she’s some kinda genius though.”

Emmalin nodded.

“Of course, I’ll check in with her.”

“Apperciated. Aside from that and a couple small things that’ll be good within the hour, well, the whole crew is now aboard, ma’am. We got us one hundred forty one souls, includin’ one Lepidoptoid Ensign and one blonde and precocious five year old wi’ black eyes.”

Emmalin beamed. “You’ve met Yolana then.”

“Yup, and her daddy. She arksed me why my mind was so dam loud. Though… she didn’t swear, mind. I told her I didn’t know, ‘s ’cause I was so busy, I guess.”

Emmalin chuckled.

“I’m sorry, Commander. As you know the abilities usually manifest a lot later but occasionally…” Slightly weary of the battle she shook her head, a moment of honest bonding between parents. “Telepathic children are a force of nature. She knows she’s not supposed to enter people’s minds but telling a five year old something and them actually doing it are quite separate things.”

“Don’t sweat it, ma’am. I remember wi’ Cassie, and with her brother. And call me Eugene. That’s if you want to.”

“Eugene,” Emmalin repeated. “Probably not appropriate for a Captain to make the same offer with her first name, wouldn’t you think?” She asked. Williams was already nodding before the sentence was finished.

“Exactly what I think ma’am. If you’ll allow me to speak freely?”

“Of course.”

Williams took a considered breath before speaking out, holding her gaze.

“You’re alone in that chair now. You can lean on me sure, but you ain’t gonna be friends with nobody on board, save your family. That ain’t what you’re here for and more often than not it don’t work so well if you try. Only person’s be calling you by your first name now is your husband. And your kid, if that’s how you roll.”

“It isn’t,” Emmalin assured him quickly. Williams nodded his approval, his mind somewhat quieter than when he had entered the room. “And I appreciate the advice. Now if there’s nothing else particular.”

Williams stood.

“There ain’t nothin’. Permission to carry on?”

The enormity of her Captaincy fell into Emmalin’s lap in one moment, with one throwaway phrase. Everything now was done with her permission. There was no-one above her, nobody checking on her except those on the vid screen with gold on their uniforms and squares around their pips. This was her show. Permission to carry on.

“Permission granted,” Emmalin replied. “Oh and Euegene?”

Williams stopped mid stride on his quick walk to the door and turned full-front to face her.

“Yes, ma’am?”

Emmalin smiled with a glint of mischief in her dark, black eyes.

“A Butterfly lady I may be, but i’m not crazy.”

Williams’ cordial smile melted into mild panic.

“I… uh…”

“Betazoid Captain,” Emmalin said cordially, but firmly, making her point only once.

“Betazoid Captain,” Williams returned slightly sheepishly. She’d never have to make it again.

“Carry on, Commander.” And Williams did, his mind largely clear as he went about his business on the bridge, save a pulse of embarrassment, that waned in time.