I wrote this almost a year ago now I think and I'd always intended to add more before I posted it, admittedly I'm not too happy with the ending but I think it's been sitting around long enough now. I did have this completely planned out but I've really only just re-visited it, so I'd really really love some feedback - whether good or bad, I just wanna know what people honestly think of this chapter and my writing in general. Hope you enjoy regardless and have a lovely day :)

On the Ark everything is limited; food rations, medical supplies, free time and even oxygen. Nothing can be spared and everything is shared based on need.
A nice idea in theory, terrible in action.
Being from Alpha Station I can consider myself one of the privileged, only elevated by my status as Medic in Ark Station Medical and then reinforced by being Council Member Dr Griffin's personal apprentice. She took me on just after my fourteenth birthday and she's dedicated every moment since then to teaching me everything she knows, and largely because of her dedication, within a few months, or less with some luck, I'll also be granted the title of Dr. (Given that I pass the exam's of course.) And having that higher title will only make my job easier, both medically and in my out of work activities.

Being part of the privileged sector makes it virtually impossible to ignore the Ark's massive social hierarchy divide. Those working on Stations such as Mecha, Agro or Factory seemed to struggle with the less than satisfactory food rations given and limited quota for medical treatment, especially when factoring in that many of those workers face a much more dangerous job than, say, anyone from my station. But given my position on Go-Sci Station I think I'm more than able to help, and honestly, the guilt of knowing and doing nothing would be crippling.

You'd be shocked the number of people who are in desperate need for help and under the age of 12, usually they're attempting to help out struggling parents rather than themselves, but something about that just makes the situation more heartbreaking. The innocence of their childhood sacrificed in place of empty tummies, desperately sick parents and a crushing responsibility unwittingly shoved onto them so soon into their, what is guaranteed to be difficult, lives.
I've been smuggling extra food rations and medicine to desperate families since I was around 16, at this point I have a list of regulars that sadly just keeps on growing, and then, of course, the popup patients in need of medicine that they've already gone over their quota for. Naturally covering this entire operation up is a bit tricky, not at all helped by the fact I'm doing this completely alone and the threat of being floated is looming over my head at every turn.

There are those who say my motivation for doing all of this is less than selfless, those who hate me because of my position on the Ark and take my attempt at assistance as charity or pity –that I'm seeking to make myself feel better rather than a genuine desire to help. Perhaps they're right; perhaps it's some deep-rooted sense of superiority that makes me help them despite the danger, a sense of safety from my valued position. Maybe I view myself as some modern-day Robin Hood; a messiah of the people. A twisted mentality of 'Everything I do is to help the needy & desperate and you should thank me for it'; a side effect of growing up on Alpha station I'm sure.
Regardless of my moral reasoning, standing by and doing nothing just doesn't sit well with me.

Occasionally, in the particularly difficult weeks, I'll get the bright idea that it'd be easier to include more people in this little operation; perhaps then with a larger group we could expand and help more people on the Ark. Presently the only ones who know of what I do, are the ones I help. But then you're given the issue of who to trust, how many to include? would the risk of everything only go up? would the risk for my patients go up?. Ultimately I'd elected to keep all of this too myself.

But that still wasn't enough

Making my way back from food storage, with around 16 stolen rations stashed away on my person is risky enough as it is; having three guards waiting around the corner for you is practically a death sentence. And their slow approach wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I know two of them by name, the third appeared to be a guard in training and I absentmindedly note that I should cosy up to him as soon as possible – keep your enemies close and all that. I'd never considered myself friends with the other two, Derix & Kamern, but I'd made it a point to know as many guards as I could, from their names to general shift rotation. Partially to make smuggling easier and well, you never know who you might need a favour off. Nonetheless, we're acquaintances at the very least, though that really didn't help with why they were making their way towards me.

Kamern appeared to be leading the group, ironic really considering his small stature and quiet personality; Derix and the new kid towered over him in the back.
His blonde hair was parted to the side and combed down as usual, and he was clearly attempting to look stern and give off an intimidating presence – not that that particularly worked with his baby face and light freckled skin, though I suppose he is practically a kid, only recently turned 18.
Well, he's younger than me at least.

Derix towering behind him was clearly in his element here. Slowly approaching someone bound to be in trouble, uniform crisp, brown eyes conveying a bored indifference to all like everyone was the dirt beneath his shoe. We never got along particularly well, he's difficult to talk too and takes everything much too seriously, but we were at least civil.

The new kid looked nervous, though a quite determination marred his brow as he approached with the others. He'd clearly only just started - perhaps I'm even his first bust. That ought to be a treat, the first person your set to float and its Dr Griffins prodigy caught smuggling rations.

I briefly entertain the idea of running but the notion is dismissed as quickly as it came, there is after all absolutely nowhere I could attempt to hide in the long term. We're on a ship in space there are only so many places, besides if they're after me now running isn't going to stop them coming after me later.

"Mrs Johnson, if you'd like to come with us please."

Kamern, despite his less than guard-like physique, possessed an inherently authoritative voice that made you want to do anything he said. But this time I really couldn't, I know I don't actually have a choice right now, but I also know if I go with them I'm guaranteed to be floated within the week,

"I'm just on my way back to medical; there's a new patient come in and they need my help, can this wait?"

If Derix's self-satisfied smirk and Kamern's exasperated sigh were anything to go by I'd say they don't quite believe me,

"I'm afraid not."

Once again Kamern's authoritative tone left little room for argument, though that didn't stop the notion of running coming back to mind. I'd have nothing to lose now anyway, if I go with them I'll undoubtedly be searched, figured out and floated regardless of my position of the ark. But if I run maybe I'll stand some kind of chance, maybe the people I've been helping all these years can help me out; hide me perhaps.

But I can't spend forever like that; flitting from room to room, and there's nowhere else I could possibly go, no one I'd want to put at such great a risk. Perhaps it'd be better to be floated for my crimes, certainly quicker in the least.
Regardless I seem to have run out of time to make my decision, though I never really had on one in the first place. The small nod Kamern sent to Derix and the new boy had them advancing on me in seconds, giving me no time at all to turn and run and instead be forced into their hands and marched forcefully down the hallway - Kamern leading all the way.

It wasn't until we reached the Ark's Go-Sci main hallway that I began to question how they found out about my operation. Being marched through the hallways I was met with concerned looks and quiet whispers, a majority of those I passed aren't people I help out but the odd one here and there, the ones looking the most distressed at my situation or perhaps at the prospect of their own, I recognised. And considering the only ones to know about my smuggling are those I've been helping, only one of them could have turned me in, which quite frankly made little sense. But I've always been meticulous with my plans, always checking guard systems for any changes, forging the medical forms to the letter as well as the food ration forms and after spending the last seven years doing this I'd gotten pretty good at it.

They didn't bother to search me until after we'd reached the skybox, apparently, they were confident enough in the information they were given, only reaffirming my suspicion that who every ratted me out is presumably someone I've been helping for a while now. They did eventually search me however and found exactly what they were looking for (much to Derix's delight). I was briskly read off my reasons for being put into the skybox and told that the council would review my case shortly, which was completely unnecessary; I was over the age of 18 and therefore guaranteed to be floated for my crimes. All three guards left the room following this and I moved to perch on the edge of the bed as the grating, mechanical locks fell into place.

Life on the Ark; a paradise in space.

Sure.