Sam
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<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">Date</td>
<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">July 18, 2116</td>
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<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">Time</td>
<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">12:35 Human Circadian Standard</td>
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<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">Location</td>
<td style="width: 48.8857%; text-align: center">Spacedock 59</td>
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Being towed was a frustrating experience for the entire Nightingale crew. Sam knew that.
But there wasn’t exactly anything they could do about it.
When a ship as large as the Nightingale had to be towed, it was a days-long process. After all, the Apgar was meant to be a small, swift, roving maternity ward, not a disaster-relief carrier like Sam’s pride and joy. The fact that they had the engine power to make the trip at all was a testament to the Responders’ dedication to their mission. But even though they had the engine power, the crew of the Apgar still had to navigate extra-wide wormholes to accommodate both ships without the risk of collision.
Such wormholes didn’t exactly take the shortest routes.
No matter how much Sam wished otherwise.
The trip was made lonelier for Sam, and the other boniest remains of a skeleton-crew that remained aboard the Nightingale for the ride. For their safety, nearly all of the Nightingale’s compliment had to spend the trip back to Spacedock 59 on the Apgar, leaving just enough to monitor the damaged systems, and ensure they didn’t blow up on the way back.
It wasn’t exactly a restful ride.
Not with the stress of maintaining her ship compounded by a continuing grief over the likely permanent loss of her friend.
But they made it.
Eventually.
And after finally coming out of the skip, Sam watched from the bridge of her half-dead ship as Spacedock 59 emerged from the void.
Spacedock 59 was, out of all the hundreds of Responders stations in the void, Sam’s favorite.
That is was the Nightingale’s home port was beside the matter.
The fact that the thing literally looked like a bioluminescent jellyfish drifting through the void was what clinched the title.
Most of the Responders’ stations were heavily nature-inspired, in one way or another.
An end result of necessity, in some ways.
After all, Sam had to assume that if one were to put together a team of the brightest architectural and engineering minds from across the known galaxy — at least the ones willing to leave their homes for months or years on end to live on a cramped construction carriers — tell them to create massive structures that will stand in vivid, highly-visible contrast to the void of deep space, and give them a high budget to build something that will last...well, who wouldn’t be motivated to get creative with the design?
No two Spacedock stations looked the same, but most of them resembled some kind of life form.
Really helped create that silhouette.
Spacedock 59’s jellyfish was truly an engineering marvel.
No matter how brutal or tragic the call, returning to that port, watching the billowing outer drapery of brilliant light beckon ships to a pocket of life in the nothingness, an oasis far from any habitable world...it always made Sam think back to the trips to the aquarium her father used to take her to back on Earth. Holding his hand, and squealing with delight as a cluster of glowing jelleyfish, or a shock of electric eels, or even a manatee, passed by inches from her face on the other side of thick glass. Spacedock 59 never failed to make her feel at least a sliver of that wonder.
Even in the middle of grief, she loved this place.
But she also had a lot of work to do.
Even though she had sent her written report ahead the moment she could access the Apgar’s communications system, her Responders Coordinator on Spacedock 59 wanted to recap it all again in person. So, less than an hour after ensuring her crew was settled into yet another temporary set of accommodations in one of the dock’s tentacles, Sam sat in Coordinator Anya Shuttle’s office on Spacedock 59, and walked through the details of the pirate attack.
Again.
“And she used a personal skipper,” Anya Shuttle shook her head. The Coordinator came from a short, but prolific, line of Humans who had chosen to make the void their permanent home. One whose parents thought themselves quite clever...but really just set their daughter up for a lifetime of bad jokes, and an encyclopedic knowledge of spacefaring culture. “Did she have a Skip suit? Was there any sign of one for Doctor Vond?”
“I don’t know,” Sam repeated. “The ship was dark when she boarded, and no one saw how they left. And I’ve...never actually seen a personal skipper in action.”
“Right, I’m sorry,” Shuttle rubbed her face in her hands. “Just being thorough. Twenty years, and our region’s never had an abduction from one of our ships. We’ve put in so many safeguards...but safeguards can’t stop everything.”
Clearly not.
“She had to have had something,” Sam concluded. “I can’t believe she would take Lukas with her without a way to keep him alive for the skip.”
“It would make sense,” Shuttle agreed. “Unsettling as it is to think about, doctors, nurses and medics are considered valuable hostages. Pirates know that even if they can’t get a ransom, they can usually still...well...put them to good use. Usually for a very long time. So I think for now it’s safe to assume that wherever he is, Vond is still alive.”
For now.
Sam suppressed a shudder.
Alive until he refuses to do some barbaric act his captor demands of him. Alive until he can’t save someone his captor wants him to save. Alive until...well...
There were so, so many variables.
But Sam had to hold onto hope.
“We’ve already passed your report on to the Coalition Guard,” Shuttle continued with a frown. “Although Captain Card claims his vessel did not in fact rendezvous with yours...despite the video evidence to the contrary. He’s claiming it must have been a cameogram.”
“Commander, we logged his ship on our sensors,” Sam reminded her. “If that wasn’t Captain Daniel Card’s Guardship, then someone made an exact replica of it for this ruse. Which seems more likely?”
“I’m not saying I believe him, Sam,” Shuttle put up a placating hand. “Just that it’s going to be hard to prove. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure we can expect a lot of help from them on this.”Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
The captain heard her pulse in her ears. “So you’re saying Card is actively impeding the investigation?”
“I’m not saying that,” Shuttle said swiftly. “But I’m doubting the Guard is going to openly contradict one of their most famous...and politically connected...captains. There’s too much at risk for them.”
“Risk,” Sam couldn’t stop the bitter snort. “You saw the video, Anya. Whatever happened on the Dolos, Card already knows who did it. If he’d just share that information with us, I could at least give Lukas’ family an idea of why he was taken. We might even be able to help them narrow down the leads. But to be honest, deliberately withholding that information makes me think––”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Shuttle cut her off. “The last thing we need is for the Cards to believe we’re accusing them of something. That’s a surefire way to not only ensure they never open up about the investigation, but also that they try to spin this whole mess as being our fault. People need to trust the Responders, or our entire mission will fall apart. And we can’t have that. Especially not while we’re still fighting back that nightmare plague on Rulia.”
Sam clenched her jaw. “Doctor McKenzie Alper, Lukas’ wife, is coordinating the vaccination efforts for that plague. How is she supposed to focus on that when her husband is missing?”
Shuttle grimaced.
“I am not trying to cause trouble, Anya,” Sam pressed on. “But why would Daniel Card be so cryptic about his mission? And on an almost more-concerning note, why was the son of a war criminal given an assignment close to his father’s separatist community?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t intentional.” Shuttle’s tone did not match her words. “Besides, he is a sworn officer of the Coalition Guard. If we can’t trust the people sworn to uphold interstellar law, then who can we trust?”
Sam took a breath. That was a can of worms she did not want to get into today.
But if there was a chance the Cards had anything to do with Lukas’ kidnapping, she could not ignore it.
“You and I both know it would not be the first time a Card sibling concealed information to protect their family’s name and fortune. The captain’s sister is on air at least once a week, claiming that the crimes their father clearly committed were fabricated. And his younger brother––”
“Is not Daniel Card,” Shuttle cut in. “I know you’re upset, Healy, but please be patient. We’ll get to the bottom of this, but we can’t have our captains running around making unsubstantiated accusations. Especially not about a Card. Besides, we don’t have any idea what investigations the Guard might be conducting. They might be tracking an entire ring of bio-terrorists for all we know. No one is going to trust us if we wind up sabotaging that investigation with politically-charged accusations.”
Sam bit the inside of her cheek.
She understood that Commanders had to deal with the politics that came with running a contingent of Responders ships, but there had to be some middle ground. Sam couldn’t just sit there while one of her oldest friends rotted away in some pirate hellhole.
She’d pushed him to go back out into the void.
She wouldn’t let it keep him.
“So what am I supposed to tell Lukas’ family?” Sam pressed. “That the Guard’s taking care of it, but don’t ask them for updates, because we’re worried about bad press?”
Shuttle grimaced again. “We don’t know anything, Sam. Everything we’ve talked about here is just conjecture. I promise you, we will do our own investigation, but making sense of random acts of cruelty like this takes a lot more time and evidence than we have right now. If you have anything substantial we can follow up on that doesn’t revert to finger-pointing, I’m all ears. Otherwise, I need you to sit tight while your ship is being repaired. Do not talk about your suspicions with anyone. Especially not Doctor Vond’s family.”
“Why are you assuming it was random?” It fell out of Sam’s mouth before she could fully stop it.
Shuttle raised an eyebrow. “You’re not suggesting this Kel person directly targeted Doctor Vond, are you?”
“With all due respect, Commander, did you actually read my report?” Sam kept her voice calm. “Right before everything shut down, the pirate claimed she wanted our ‘monster.’ Not a ‘doctor.’ Not ‘supplies.’ Our ‘monster.’ What other inference should I get from that, other than this being a targeted abduction?”
The Coordinator blinked; looked down at a tablet on the desk between them; flicked through a streak of text on the screen. “You’re right, your report did mention that. In passing. Do you think this could be a plague-denier? Someone who thinks taking Doctor Alper’s husband will force her to say what they want to hear about AX-579?”
Well, that would explain a lot, but not everything.
“That could be it,” Sam hesitated. “But why would that make Lukas a ‘monster?’ A word like that makes it seem much more...personal.”
Which also didn’t make sense. Lukas was a good man. Sam had known him since elementary school back on Earth, and there wasn’t a single phase of his life where he’d been anything other than dedicated to helping others. Not even at his worst. Not even when…
Oh.
Oh no.
“What if this is about the Cori?” Sam said. “What if this Kel isn’t actually a pirate, but someone who blames Lukas for...for what happened?”
It still wouldn’t explain why Card was being so cryptic, but it still fit.
She wished it didn’t, but it did.
Shuttle tensed; drew a deep breath; let it out. “If that’s the case, Sam, then I don’t think we’re getting him back.”
Probably not.
Water stung at the corners of her vision.
She knew the odds.
But she couldn’t give up that easily.
She wouldn’t.
“I need to call McKen...Doctor Alper after this,” Sam cleared her throat. “It’s been put off for too long already. I can ask if she’s been in touch with the other survivor. See if he’d gotten any threats, or knows of anyone holding a grudge––”
“No, Sam,” Shuttle cut her off again. “You are a Skipper captain, not a detective. You can tell Doctor Alper that her husband was abducted, if the Coalition Guard hasn’t already been in touch. You can tell her to expect a call from them if they haven’t. You can tell her that we’re sharing everything we know with the Guard––and I will pass along your ideas for a personal motive for the kidnapping––but we need to leave the investigation up to the people trained to do it. Understood?”
Absolutely not.
There was no way in hell that Captain Daniel Card, son of that swindling, lying, cult-inciting, fugitive Henry Card had a good reason for denying his presence at the Dolos disaster, and there was no way in hell a real investigation was going to come out of the Coalition Guard if he was running the show.
Lukas deserved better than to be swept under the rug for some stupid political game. Someone had to actually look into this who gave a damn.
But saying that wouldn’t help Lukas make it home.
Sam forced a tight smile on her face, and nodded.
“I understand completely.”