Although Devereux had seen Hope dressed in clothing other then her duty uniform (although not often), she have never seen Hope dressed quite like this.
She was dressed in a lightweight cloak, but it hid most of whatever she wore underneath it. Its colors were white and a soft blue, similar in hue to the colors of the medical section that Hope used to wear. For the first time since seeing Hope again, Devereux realized what had caused her to first doubt her recognition.
Hope had allowed her hair to grow long. She still wore it so that it fell behind her ears, clearly exposing their tapered points. The front hung down in scattered bangs across her forehead, obscuring her narrow eyebrows, yet making her eyes seem larger and more prominent.
“Hope,” Devereux breathed. She surrendered to the smile that was fighting its way to her lips. “Hope,” she said aloud.6
As was usual with Hope, her expression and posture revealed little of her emotions. Devereux found herself watching for some motion, some gesture that conveyed a hint of arrogance or acquired haughtiness. Hope’s movements betrayed none. Her head turned toward Devereux.
“Captain.”
#
Devereux entered the bridge. Based on their relative positions, she guessed that Hawkes and Elizabeth had arrived only a few moments earlier, probably delaying their return slightly in case she had been close behind them.
Her lightened mood dimmed considerably when she saw the shadows of inoperative stations and caught the acrid, wafting scent of burnt and melted polymers. Every small gift, it seemed, came with a price—sometimes a very steep one.
“Well,” she announced grimly. “We’d better see what kind of shape we’re in.”
“Yes, Captain,” Elizabeth and Hawkes both acknowledged quietly, almost in unison.
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