LOG: Day 140
PASSENGERS: 190
AUTHOR: DR ALEX DANVERS
[It has been a month since my last entry, and we have yet to cross the Hemithea Nebula. I… understand Lyron's hesitation, but tensions are rising quickly. Though the crew were civilians upon deportation, we have all grown into more than that, and most are willing to risk the trip between galaxies, and yet we wait.
The only thing keeping the calm is that Dr. Alphonse Luzano, an astronomer from Starhaven, has assured us that time is moving differently here. That what might feel like days and months to us, may be seconds and hours to Earth. That just because we have stalled here, does not mean our families are suffering equally alongside us.
But the calm is tenuous, and frustration is growing every day.]
Without ever explicitly talking about it, the Superfriends had tasked themselves with filling the void left by Alex as best they could. And with regard to Kara, there was a lot more void to fill. So, a tag team approach was undertaken.
It was Winn who tipped Lucy off that she was missing – she was horrified to realize that the DEO's primary asset had been MIA for over 12 hours and no one had noticed until the overgrown frat boy from space asked where his training buddy was.
And it was James who guessed where she might go – something about emotion behind the emotions and a really poorly designed anger management system they'd tried last year.
But it was Lucy who was tasked with retrieving her.
Normally, emotional territory was best served by Maggie. But this intersected with work responsibilities, and Detective was busy tracking down a Cadmus lead so thin it was practically translucent. But any lead was a good lead at this point, so Lucy volunteered herself to hunt down the missing Krypontian.
Parking the SUV at the address scribbled on her sticky note, Lucy eyed the junk yard dubiously. It looked abandoned enough. According to James the owner owed Supergirl a favor, which she cashed in for the occasional punching bag.
Dropping down the two inches of space she couldn't reach to the floor, Lucy thanked her decision to wear DEO blacks, rather than anything army today.
After ten minutes of blind navigation, she began to lose faith. The place was massive, she hadn't even seen an office of some sort, where would Kara –
Her frustrated train of thought was interrupted by possibly the loudest noise she'd ever heard outside of combat. Like a claymore going off in the next room but more metallic.
Following her ears, Lucy turned another two corners of towering junk to find a massive industrial building – looking about as decrepit as Lucy expected.
Walking the parameter until she found a door, she stepped slowly into the room. No windows and red paint made the place feel smaller than it was, but when Lucy looked up it was massive – big enough for Kara to hang a car from its hood and use it as a punching bad. Or, that's what Lucy assumed, but the car in front of Kara was no longer on the swinging hook above, and dust was still settling around it.
Walking into the room, she watched Kara continue to pummel the downed vehicle – fists crushing the former trunk into an approximation of flat iron. She only paused to spit out a "what are you doing here," without looking up before she started on the rear passenger side.
"James told me I might find you here."
Blowing hair away from her eyes, Kara glanced over, "not what I asked."
Crossing her arms, Lucy tried again. "We were worried when you didn't check in."
"Well, you shouldn't have. As you can see," she crushed the driver's seat door. "I'm fine."
"You missed training with pod boy." Rolling her eyes, Kara kept throwing punches, driving the car further and further into the ground. "Kara, you know you can talk to me, right? Or Winn or Maggie, or whoever?" The engine screamed as her fist punctured hood. "You're allowed to be angry-"
"Angry," the superhero drew her hand away so quickly shrapnel was tossed behind her. "You think I'm angry?"
Raising an eyebrow at the wreckage, and the several feet Lucy was keeping between herself and the rapidly diminishing car, she resisted a scoff.
"Do you really think watching that ship be blasted into oblivion made me angry, Lucy?" something boarding manic entered blue eyes. "Do you actually believe that watching my sister's face as the ship only I could stop ripped itself out of my hands, has me, what? Pissed off? Do you actually think reliving the moment where I failed to save the only person who ever made me feel at home…"
Whatever emotion that overwhelmed Kara in that moment drove her to kick the remaining car so hard, it literally flew into the far wall. The noise was so loud in the metal building that Lucy was forced to jam her hands over her ears, stumbling away from the wreckage.
It took several long seconds for the room to stop echoing with the sound, yet by the time Lucy could take her hands away and look over at the Kryptonian, her chest was still heaving, eyes fixed on what remained of the car.
"I'm not angry, Lucy," which was hard to believe, but Lucy was willing to agree to disagree with the violently not-angry women. "I had any kind of normal life stolen from me the second my parents put me on that ship. I lost my family, my friends, my culture over the course of seconds. Then I was forced to come here, a place where I couldn't even hug my foster mother without cracking a rib. I didn't understand your language or your customs and everything was too loud and too harsh, and I was alone." Her voice rose and shook with every sentence.
Finally turning wild eyes towards the Director, Lucy felt her breath stutter in her chest. She had known Kara Danvers a while now, and she would have put cold, hard, cash on such a manic look being outside her repertoire.
"And the only thing that made that survivable – the only thing that made me feel safe and like I had a chance on this stupid fucking planet was Alex! She taught me how to speak, and how to read and how to sneak snacks up to our bedroom. She crawled under a table to explain that the popcorn maker wasn't going to hurt me, and took the blame when I broke our bedroom window. She made me feel like I could build a life here, that I could be normal and even when I couldn't, she loved me anyway!"
Lucy was already stepping towards her by the time tears were crawling down the blonde's face. "She is my entire world," her voice lost its hard edge, creeping into hollow. "And I couldn't save her."
"So no, Lucy, I'm not angry," now inches apart, Lucy had to look up into wet blue eyes, her own eyes burning. "I'm broken."
LOG: Day 193
PASSENGERS: 180
AUTHOR: DR ALEX DANVERS
"Ah… I hope this is recording? The little purple light is on, which is supposed to mean record according to our computer engineer. But then, our computer engineer is Alstairanian, and only speaks Spanish so I can't be sure." Alex Danvers smiled self-deprecatingly at the camera, leaning back in the chair, pressing her thumb into her palm uncomfortably.
Not much had changed over the 180 days. She looked tired, there were bruises just visible under the collar of her rumpled, slightly torn black long-sleeved shirt. When she twisted her hands, it drew attention to her dye stained fingertips.
"So, yeah, Mastih set this whole thing up so that I didn't have to keep typing everything out. There have been complaints that I have not done enough of these recently, and this," she gestured vaguely at the camera, incidentally lifting her sleeves and revealing a hint of dark red and purple bruising around her wrist, "was a suggestion from a friend. Which does not make me uncomfortable at all, given these are public domain amongst the crew."
Her smile was indeed uncomfortable, but she still carded her hands through her too long hair and sat up straighter.
"Okay, so. We are attempting the Hemithea Nebula in two cycles, which is a relief. Ten more crew abandoned the ship while we waited. I think it was a combination of the growing tension aboard, some injuries resulting from trades and thinking that Lyron is going to delay the entire journey like this…" she glanced away from the camera, a wrinkle forming between her eyes. "I see their point. I just can't imagine leaving this ship or crew anymore. Been together a long time now."
Rubbing her hands together, she looked back at the camera and attempted a half smile.
"Being trapped in this mental box together for over six months has been… an experience. Particularly cause a lot of the crew can't disembark at most ports, for various cultural reasons. And some of us can't disembark 'cause we haven't 'earned the privilege.' Whatever the fuck that means," her jaw ticked just slightly.
"But we on our way now. The journey has to be made in one go, without stopping or slowing down. So, the crew has to divide and rotate, ensuring we are always manned and running," she flexed her fingers and forced a smile. "Hemithea Nebula is infamous for Scralkils. I gather that they are basically roaming pirates and raiders from the galaxy's internal planets. We have been strongly advised against encountering them."
"Lyron is not worried though! He has spent a lot of our down time between trading gigs training up a bunch of the crew," she clicked her teeth together, and her smile grew even more forced. "So, we are supposedly able to defend ourselves against a boarding. Though, I am not privy to such matters."
"Anyway, I should sign off. I have been placed on overlapping duties, as medical training is on hold while we travel through Hemithea. I'll be down in the kitchen 17 lights a day, which is hilarious to anyone who knows anything about my life pre…. All this," she gestures around jerkily, taking a deep breath and forcing another smile for the camera. "I'll try to update as we travel through, though I suspect I will be otherwise occupied."
Off screen, a yell was heard, Alex's head jerking left towards it. Something was shouted in a guttural language, even without translation coming across laced with fury." God avail ukk axol holo!" [get your ass over here] Alex exhaled loudly, running her tongue along her teeth. "avai valdhrokk krik!" [you worthless slug].
"Canavk!" She shouted back turning back to the camera, lifting the corner of her mouth before muttering, "Darla end message."
The apartment door slammed closed so loudly that Maggie dropped her spatula in surprise, twisting around so fast that she almost slipped in her socks.
At the threshold stood what can only be described as a furious Lucy – the set of her body so taught and her eyes so wild, Maggie immediately turned all the heat off dinner. This was not going to be a quick or easy conversation.
"Luce?" Tentatively taking a step forward, but Lucy just held up a hand. Breathing sharply through her nose, as if that second would be able to control the fury coursing through her veins. When she didn't lower her hand for thirty seconds of controlled, rageful breathing, Maggie tried again. "Lucy?"
"I can't even," running a tongue over teeth, Lucy forcibly yanked her jacket off, tugging violently when it got caught around a wrist until she could chuck it in the general direction of the couch, missing by a mile. "They're killing the investigation."
Eyebrows pulling together, Maggie took a step around the counter. "Whose doing what?"
"The President," rage gripped her again, rendering Lucy speechless for another moment. "Sends her deepest sympathy for our loss," she stopped again, lifting her feet individually to take each of her heals off. "But they can no longer justify our use of resources on missing aliens and a lone agent," and violently fired both shoes at the bedroom.
Maggie felt her blood freeze - Without the DEO's resources, the investigation would die. The NCPD would continue investigating the missing aliens until Maggie listed it as a cold case, but they would get nowhere without the DEO's support.
"She also gently suggested I take advantage of my bereavement leave, given the circumstances," Lucy ripped her hairpins out, definitely not gently enough to be pain-free.
The rational part of Maggie's brain quietly agreed. Lucy… actually both of them, and Kara actually, should probably be put on leave. Alex might not be dead but eventually they would have to start processing her loss as if she were. It's just that none of them were ready to start that process yet though.
Instead of sharing that thought, Maggie took another step forward, hands out as if Lucy would strike out.
"Okay, well-"
"No," Lucy pointed a single finger in her girlfriend's direction, lip pulled back from her teeth. "Don't you even think about putting on your cop voice and telling me some placatory bullshit right now!"
Biting the inside of her cheek, Maggie crossed her arms. "Excuse me Councilor - what do you want to hear, then? 'Cause nothing I say or do seems to help anymore!"
"Just!" pressing her palms into her temples Lucy stalled before just wordlessly throwing her hands up into the air.
"No, seriously, what would make you feel better? You gotta give me more than that Lane. When I try to help, you shut down. When I try to be sympathetic, you push me away – what's left? How can I help you!?"
"You can't Maggie!" And all at once, the lawyer deflated. All argument bleeding from her body. "I'm sorry – I'm not angry at you."
Huffing, Maggie resisted an eye roll, frustration and indignation boiling in her blood.
"I'm sorry," dropping her hands, she rolled her neck, letting the pops ring out before looking at her girlfriend properly for the first time tonight. "I just… I knew it was coming, but I didn't think this quickly."
"I know," was her diplomatic response, because, privately, Maggie was surprised the DEO even had been allowed to go on this long. J'onn had been ensuring business as usual was taken care of, but there was no ignoring the significant resources were being poured into looking for their girlfriend.
"I'm really sorry Mags." Taking a tentative step closer, Lucy reached out and touched the exposed skin where Maggie had rolled up her sleeves. "Are we okay?"
"Yeah," Maggie mumbled, trading her indignation for a smile. Swallowing her frustration she reached bac,k, tugging Lucy into a hug. "Of course."
LOG: Day 200
PASSENGERS: 163
AUTHOR: DR ALEX DANVERS
The Alex Danvers that clicked back into view a second time was a different person. She was sitting in the same chair, but the background was entirely changed. No longer was it just an empty room, walls painted a muted grey. Instead, random items were scattered around the space, weapons, boxes, clothes and rags crumpled everywhere. The walls were still grey but painted with specs of many different colors.
Alex was also painted. Her skin speckled with what had to be assumed was blood, though it was more black than red. She sat, body folded forward, with her elbows on her knees, fingers twisting together obscuring her face. Her hands were dark with dried liquid of many colors, blending into a sort of black paint. Her clothes (the same from before) were more torn then whole, the cloth around her knees completely ripped away. A slash along her ribs revealed a stitched wound, and when she moved her fingers a gash running through her eyebrow was visible.
For a long, hollow moment she didn't speak. But when she looked up, dropping her shaking hands, a haunted angry look was revealed.
"I don't even remember what I said in my last log," her voice was empty. It didn't shake, but it was far from strong. "Scralkils, I didn't know what they really were. No one really prepared us. They are not just raiders… they are…" she trailed off, squeezing her eyes closed. "They are monsters."
A shuddering breath, as she pressed her hands into her face, rubbing her eyes harshly, before dragging them through her greasy still-too-long hair. She had reopened the wound above her eye.
"They didn't want resources or loot. They wanted people, they wanted… slaves? I don't know…" flexing her shoulders and leaning back to properly look at the camera. "They boarded, attacked, tried to drag women away. Even… Even one of our kids. Ky. She's just 10, you know? Doesn't even know her own species. Was abducted alone and doesn't seem ready to talk about herself. But she's smart. So smart. She helps me down in the infirmary, and is always bugging Ella about tech, when she manages to sneak away from the kitchens."
Her eyes were growing red, so she closed them, turning away from her imaginary audience. Her jaw clenched and unclenched repeatedly while she gathered her will to continue.
"That's the only reason she's still alive. She was in the kitchen with me when they boarded… they phased right through the walls, into the ship. I… I killed the ones that started with us. I think they assumed that the most women would be down in the kitchen. Which… I guess is true? Lyron's kinda like that. But I was there, and so was Lyra, so we stopped them. But we didn't know what was happening upstairs… And by the time we got there, it was almost too late."
"A couple of the guys were holding them off, but there were so many bodies on both sides along the way… It wasn't like Gruuliv. These weren't executions, they were battle wounds. I think we only 'won' cause they seemed to rely on melee weapons, axes and hammers. But we still lost 16 guys, and more are injured… I stitched up everyone I could before the other medics shoved me out of the infirmary to get some rest. As if I've been granted a fucking bunk elsewhere."
"And two," she seemed to sag forward. Eyes still closed but pressing a blood covered palm over her mouth. "We didn't know until we'd taken off. We were already too far to turn back, and even if we did, there is no way for us to…" Exhaling violently, she jerked out of her seat, head disappearing out of frame. In a swift move she grabbed the chair and threw it so violently that it vaulted out of the shot and the sound of it shattering followed.
"Fuck!" she stalked away from the camera, her head bowed forward, fingers digging into the skin at the back of her skull. "We shouldn't be here! Shouldn't be in this stupid fucking death trap, millions of miles from home," her strangled shout echoed in the room, making the audio flicker. But it still managed to pick up the sound, and visual, of her drawing back her clenched hands and slamming it repeatedly into the metal wall at the other end of the room, her wordless shouts vibrating with the clang of her fist.
By the time she dissolved into sobs, slumping onto the floor, the wall and her knuckles were bloodied with fresh red, mixing with the black.
Lucy had sworn to herself that she would do better – that Maggie wouldn't feel the brunt of her anger or fears anymore. That there wouldn't be as many nights where her partner tiptoed around the apartment like there was a bomb ready to go off.
Even better, she had promised a low-key date night.
Their entire lives had been consumed by Alex – if they weren't working to find her, they were talking about it, and when they weren't talking about it, they were thinking about it. Lucy had started having reoccurring dreams about being in central command with those stupid crime scene photos. So, Lucy had asked if Maggie wanted to take the night with her – not even to leave the apartment, just to be together and have it be about them, not their ghosts.
Ah the best laid plans.
She'd been in the dessert base (she'd had to return to her actual station eventually, though J'onn never said a word) when it all went to hell. Alarms blaring in what is essentially a high security alien prison is always a little more than a 15-minute fix.
By the time the asshole with too many eyes was back behind bars, she was already three missed calls and two hours late.
Calling back rendered zero results, so she got a ride on the Supergirl express and was at their front door in ten nauseating minutes.
She ignored Kara's thumbs up and took the stairs two at a time. Heart sinking when she pushed open the door. The open plan apartment was dark, not even the bedside lamps were on. However, Maggie hadn't drawn the curtains, so Lucy could still see how heart wrenching her fuck up was.
The dining table was still set, two placemats (they'd finally stopped putting out the third last month), but only one still had cutlery. There was a bottle of wine still sitting out, even though Maggie was more of a beer or scotch with dinner kind of girl. She'd even dug out her candle sticks and Lucy could see they'd probably burned for some time before the other women gave up. It looked like the perfect, low-key, intimate evening they needed. She just hadn't been there.
And she knew, without looking, that a plate was left for her in the fridge. And she knew, without looking, that it would be one of their favorites, that only Maggie knew how to make. And she knew, without looking, that the kitchen would be clean, and everything would have been perfect.
What she didn't expect (though she should have), is that looking up at the bed, and seeing the sleeping figure of her girlfriend, who had just finished a fourteen-hour shift, would shatter whatever was left of her heart.
LOG: Day 214
PASSENGERS: 161
AUTHOR: DR ALEX DANVERS
When the camera clicked back on, the room behind Alex was once again changed. The walls had been scrubbed and the floor cleared. Alex was also changed – wearing entirely new clothes and her visible wounds healing nicely. Her shirt was a dark grey, the sleeves too tight around her shoulders and arms – but was clean and untorn. A marked improvement.
The cut over her eye had several dents from removed stitches, and the bruising on her forearms had faded to a yellow – though her dominant wrist and hand were still bandaged from her assault on the wall.
She even managed a neutral expression, though the set of her eyes and lips spoke of suppressed emotion.
"I apologize for my abrupt sign off on the last log. I asked for it to be deleted but the crew disagreed. They want our true experience to be available," her jaw flexed. "I don't necessarily agree but am respecting their wishes."
"If it wasn't clear from my previous report, two women were taken that night. I knew one very well, as she was training with me in the infirmary – She… Frankie was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure of knowing. She was smart and committed and…"
Squinting, Alex pressed on. "I didn't know Erik'a, so another crew member has agreed to include their own testimony about her below. But my heart goes out to her and her family… the world is a lesser place for both of their absence. And I am-" she choked off for a second, clearing her throat. "I am so very sorry for their loss. I would do anything to get them back, to turn back time…"
"And to the families of the people who were lost in the fight, I am so sorry. They died protecting their fellow crew members. And I just… I extend to you and your family my deepest sympathy."
There was a long pause, while Alex sat back against her chair, just staring into the screen. To the foreign observer it would look as if she was gathering her thoughts. To those that know Alex Danvers, they could see the naked pain and guilt she was burying deep within.
"Most of those aboard have created files within this drive, and it is my understanding that all but one of the lost did so as well – Videos and letters to their families, in case of death or… loss. They will be delivered to their families upon our return to Earth. I promise to do so personally, and until then, their memories will carry on with the crew." Only her twitching muscles and clenched fists gave away her rage, buried under lawyers of professionalism.
"We are expected to exit this god-forsaken galaxy within the next few lights. My… status has improved as a result of my role in the battle. Most of the crew has accepted me, and I have been permitted freer use of the ship. So, I should be able to report slightly more regularly, and hopefully with less intense news."
She sighed. Just before gritting out "Darla end message," the camera captured how her façade of calm cracked.