Carpathia IV: Episode 74 - Deep Within
Space, NCCS Shadowdancer
The soft, blue lighting in the corridors reflected soothingly from the metal frames and accents that lined the walls. Rigged for nighttime, the Shadowdancer was peaceful, entirely quiet except for the ever-present hum of the engines. Aire wandered the corridors aimlessly, peeking this way and that, taking in the atmosphere in quiet contemplation. The few crew members he encountered immediately stopped what they were doing and cried out "Captain!" with a bit more gusto than was customary. Nobody, at least, seemed the slightest bit disturbed that Aire was disobeying orders and, possibly, running them all headlong into an interstellar diplomatic crisis.
After several hours of wandering, Aire found himself outside the officer's lounge for lieutenants and above only. He tapped the button at the side of the door and it slid open. Meandering inside, Aire found the room empty except for one lone figure sitting on a barstool to his right. It was Sorchae and she held up her glass as a gesture of greeting.
Sorchae: Join me in a glass of port, Aire?
Aire strolled to an adjacent barstool and took a seat.
Aire: Just one, Doctor. Big day tomorrow.
Sorchae smirked and gave Aire a gentle tut-tut as she poured Aire a glass of port.
Sorchae: Now, none of this "Doctor" nonsense when we're off duty. Every Captain needs a confidante and I'm the closest thing you have to an equal on this ship.
Aire took a sip from his glass, savouring the wine's sweetness as it went down.
Aire: No harm in taking you up on that. It's not like I'm going to be Captain for much longer.
Sorchae: I wouldn't give up hope just yet. Stranger things have happened.
Aire: Whatever happens, I'm going to do everything I can to make sure I'm the only one who takes the fall.
Aire sighed as he sloshed his port around in his glass.
Aire: Not going to be easy going home if I am drummed out of the force, especially not after the all the press about being the first Rameweti Captain.
Sorchae: I suppose it wouldn't. For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing and if the worst-case scenario does happen, just remember that you've made a lot of friends out here.
Aire: Thanks, Doc... Sorchae. That means a lot.
Sorchae: We'll deal with what's to come when it comes. For now, we have a good rescue plan thanks to Nalma's operative on that Savea junk ship giving us fantastic intel.
Sorchae leaned back in her chair and took a sip of her port.
Sorchae: I'm sure you've seen plenty of the CEF recruitment posters. They're always full of highfalutin notions of seeking out life, exploring new worlds, and creating a better future for us all.
Aire nodded.
Aire: Oh, yes. I remember them well.
Sorchae: All true, mind, but it has been my experience that the real reason why anyone joins has less to do with what's out here and mostly to do with satisfying an urge of something in here.
Sorchae accentuated her two words by giving Aire a poke in the chest.
Sorchae: Kit's need is obvious. He's not here to explore worlds or seek out life. He wants to figure out who he is. Most of the time, it's not easy to suss out the reasons, even for ourselves.
Aire smiled, possibly for the first time since before Rhalma came aboard the Shadowdancer, eager to hear more.
Aire: In that case, why did you join?
This time, Sorchae did not take a sip, but a big gulp of her port.
Sorchae: Oh, I'm afraid I'm pretty easy too. I was married to a dreary man with a dreary job at a dreary accounting firm who seemed to think the only way to get ahead in life was to become even more dreary.
Aire smirked and delivered an appropriately silly response.
Aire: Sounds dreary.
Sorchae's eyes widened in feigned surprise.
Sorchae: Whatever gave you that idea? Anyway, when my oldest child was eight, she asked me if she had to choose between success and happiness. That's when I realized that I was pretty damned dreary myself. We divorced amicably and here I am. My daughter is following her own passion now, studying holo-design, and she tells everyone that her mother is the Chief Medical Officer of the Shadowdancer.
Aire: It certainly isn't dreary out here, especially on this ship, where even the most mundane tasks can turn out unpredictably.
Sorchae nodded.
Sorchae: And what about you, Aire?
Aire took a sip of his port and rubbed his cheek, thinking about where he should begin. His story was a little less easy.
Aire: Hmmm...
Ramewet, 30 years ago
A young boy sat alone by a fence on top of a hill, book in hand. Behind him, on the other side of a fence, was a level field where people played sports of all kinds. The boy had no interest in the goings-on over in the field, which involved kicking and throwing balls of various shapes and sizes. Sometimes, a ball went this way or that and points were allocated. Somehow, the people found this particularly special and cheered for this nonsense with boisterous hooting and hollering.
Today, there was no big game, rather a lot of kids spread around in little groups doing their own thing. Content that the fence obscured him enough from the prying eyes of those on the field, the boy buried himself in the words of heroic tales and epic quests while those behind them did whatever mundane things one does with a ball. It was a fine, unspoken arrangement until one ball found its way through a gap in the fence, driving itself right into the boy's shoulder. The boy jumped to his feet.
Aire: Hey!
Standing before Aire was one of the boys from his class, the one he disliked the most, and not just for the insufferable smirk that permanently adorned his face.
Boy: Ha! Girl! Whatcha reading? Girl stuff?
Aire held up his novel, waving it angrily at the bully.
Aire: It's called a book! Maybe you should try one once in awhile!
Banter was not on the mind of the other boy, which was made abundantly clear by a rock sailing too close past Aire's head. He wisely decided to find another, more solitary, place to read.
11 years later
Aire's phone blinged, but he paid it no mind.
The first year of university went well enough. Classes kept Aire busy during the term, but now that it was summer and classes were finished, there was not much to do but lay on the bed and read books. The only problem was his mother, whose disdain for his solitary lifestyle was abundantly clear. It wasn't his fault. Everyone he knew liked to go out to party and drink heavily, things he cared little about. Worse still, his mother appeared quite incapable of keeping her voice below the volume of a foghorn whenever she talked on the phone, so Aire got to listen to her complain about his shortcomings to every one of his relatives.
Aire's phone blinged again.
This time, it was his aunt. Maybe. He didn't know. It didn't matter. It was the same script every time and he could recite it all like it were the lyrics to a song, which he frequently did, in a nasally, mocking tone, from his bed.
Aire: Why doesn't he get some friends? All he does is sit up there in his room reading books! I have a right to be worried about him. I spent all our savings to send him to the best boarding schools and this is what I get.
He always hated that last part. They were hardly the best boarding schools. They weren't even boarding schools at all. That's just what she told everyone. They were nothing more than optional programs in the regular school system.
Once again, another bling from his phone.
Somehow, Aire's mother could go on for hours like this and, miraculously, it gave him no further motivation to leave his books or his bed. The phone, which still carried on with its fourth bling in just a few minutes, did spur him into action. It was rare enough for it to signal a notification four times in a day, much less in a few minutes.
Aire: Jeez, what the hell is going on?
Aire held his finger on the screen, unlocking his phone, and scrolled through his news alerts. Right away, he sat up straight in his bed, so engrossed in his screen that he didn't even hear his mother any more. Every news site, every social media feed, all of Ramewet was focused on the same thing, the spaceship breaking through the clouds and headed for Zhail City. This was real. Hoaxes of Carpathia's arrival were commonplace, but this was no hoax.
Aire leaped from his bed and shot out of his bedroom, bounding down the stairs three at a time, right past his oblivious mother, still on the phone.
Aire: I'm taking the car!
As he flew out the front door without even closing it behind him, he could hear his mother shouting a lot of things, but he did not listen to any of it. Before she even made it to the front porch, Aire was already speeding away down the street.
NCCS Shadowdancer, Present
Aire: It's a long story. The short version is that I wanted to be a part of something that valued everyone both as individuals and as part of a team. I'll admit that, sometimes, the Exploration Force didn't seem like that ideal, but I feel like I've finally found my place. It'll be a shame to lose it, but if that's the price I have to pay...
Sorchae: I hope I get to hear the full story sometime and I think you'll have a good case to make if the Admiralty gets grumpy with you. "CEF General Directive 4: Captains should not leave their crew behind." I don't know what Kit might be someday, but his potential is far beyond anything either of us can imagine, I think.
Aire: I'll agree to that. First, we have to get him out of there. If half the things I've heard about the Saveas are true, they're not interested in potential. We've been working hard on our plan. I just hope it works.
Aire tipped back his glass and gulped down the last of the port wine.
Aire: I don't suppose I'm going to get a peaceful sleep tonight, but I'm going to give it a shot. I'll see you at the briefing in the morning.
Aire placed his glass in a sink in the bar and stood, straightening his uniform.
Sorchae: I'm going to stay a bit more and finish this. Sweet dreams, Aire.
Aire: You too, Sorchae.
Aire walked away, but Sorchae called out to him before he reached the door.
Sorchae: One more thing, Aire.
Aire turned to find Sorchae still on her barstool, holding up her glass of port in one hand and leaning on the bar with the other, all with a sassy smirk on her face.
Sorchae: You'll have me on that rescue team or I'm afraid I shall have to relieve you of duty.
Aire smirked back and put his hand on his hip.
Aire: Is that so? On what grounds?
Sorchae sloshed her port around in her glass and glanced up at the ceiling.
Sorchae: Oh, I'll come up with something. "Mental instability evidenced by poor rescue planning."
Aire chuckled and turned toward the door again.
Aire: Good night, Sorchae.
Commissioned art in this episode from:
AvareonArt
Zelbunnii
Thatwildmary
Colourbrand
