The Commander, or Andy as she has instructed us to call her, is a mystery to me. She keeps herself at a distance not just from me, but also the crew. She spends all her free time at the command console, analysing data and information at speeds which still baffle me.

She's not unfriendly, as such, and she is quick to offer an easy smile, but it's short lived and never quite reaches her eyes. The only exception to this is Cassidy, for whom she always makes time and never fails to try to lift her spirits or make her laugh. I am exceedingly grateful, considering I seem to fail at this task daily since her sister has been missing.

We've been flying for three days, and life on board is settling into a routine of sorts, though it's a world apart from what I am used to. That thought amuses me as it crosses my mind, considering we are already several solar systems away from Earth One.

As has become habit, I leave my pod in search of my morning coffee, though I never have any real idea of time on this ship. The days seem to pass much more quickly than they did at home. The crew sleep in shifts of four hours, and have encouraged Cassidy and I to do the same. I'm not entirely sure of their logic, but sleep cycles are mentioned, and the pods we sleep in use lighting and delta sound waves to guide us through a full cycle. I'm amazed that it leaves us so refreshed and ready for action, without the long-lasting drowsiness that comes with sleeping a full night.

"Morning, Miranda," Destra greets me, as I walk into the Cave and head to the small kitchen.

"Good morning."

The woman is pleasant enough, but all I can think of is that first sip of coffee, and I slip past her to the hot water machine. She smiles knowingly. "You'll adjust soon and then you won't feel like you need that stuff so much. Most of us don't even drink it, now."

"Most of you?"

"Andy likes it." Destra shrugs, passing me a mug. "And who's gonna argue with the Commander, right?"

I raise my brow. "As her Medical Officer, I would have thought that job would be yours, if you believe it to be bad for her."

"I know when to pick my battles with that one, trust me. Andy without coffee is not someone you want to be around."

A woman after my own heart then.

"I need you and Cassidy to come to the medical bay after breakfast. I wanted to give you a chance to settle into life on board, but I really need to do a work up. Nothing too in-depth, just basic tests and then I'll give you each a welfare plan."

I know my face must show my displeasure when she squeezes my shoulder with a small laugh. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to spend hours running on the treadmill every day."

"That's a relief," I quip, and quite honestly, truer words have never been spoken. Running is my own personal hell and I never was very good at it. "Have you seen my daughter this morning?"

Destra nods, offering me a grin as she jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "She's with Emily in the Veggie."

"Veggie? What's that?"

"Emily has a small contained garden below where she grows all of our fresh food. It's like a normal garden, I guess, but it's a completely artificial environment. Similar to the food biomes on Earth One, but on a much smaller scale."

"Remarkable," I comment, as yet again I am amazed by the ship we have found ourselves on. I've never had much cause to think about it before, no reason to consider what life might be like living on board a ship like this. "Where is it? I don't remember Serena pointing it out to us."

"Next to the brig, there is a door marked 'cargo'. Go through it and head downstairs. You can't miss it."

"Thank you." I press the lid onto my coffee mug, cradling it in my hands as I go in search of my daughter.

I've not been in the cargo hold before and I am unprepared for the sheer scale of it. I know the ship is large but the cargo hold is enormous. As with everything on this ship, it's impeccably tidy and organised, split into sections on either side of the main walk way. Further down in the belly of the ship, there is a brightly lit glow and as I walk closer I see my daughter behind glass walls that make up a room in the middle of the space. Emily is laughing and I grin to myself. The woman has been caustic, bordering on rude at times, so to see her quite so unguarded amuses me; my daughter has done it again. Of the two of them, Cassidy has always been the more outgoing and sociable one and I am yet to meet anyone that can resist her innocent charm.

Cassidy spots me walking towards her and pokes her head out of the door, calling excitedly for me to enter. A reserved mask falls back over Emily's face, but the damage has already been done and we both know it. I will never see her as the prickly and unapproachable woman that she appeared to be before. She smiles at me sheepishly, and I incline my head in acknowledgement.

"I'm rather stunned," I admit. "I assumed that all the food was purchased externally and brought back to the ship."

"Mom, it's amazing. Emily grows everything! She grows all the fresh food we eat and she also grows things for Destra. Did you know that a lot of plants and herbs are as good as pharmaceuticals? Some are even better." My daughter's face is glowing with excitement, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed. I am so grateful for the way the crew have taken her under their wing.

"I had no idea," I answer honestly.

"Emily said I can come down here and help her. She's going to teach me how to grow things, but she said I have to ask you. Can I, Mom?"

I flick my eyes to the young woman. "She won't be a nuisance?"

The botanist shakes her head, smiling fondly at my daughter. "Not at all, it would be my pleasure. I've told Andy many times that a little help would be useful. She'll be paid for her time, of course."

"There is no need," I assure her.

She firmly shakes her head. "Actually, there is. If she is going to help me, then she deserves to be paid for her efforts. I would pay an adult and this is no different. I grew up on Nova Terra and it was instilled in us that children should grow up feeling valued by others, so they learn to value themselves."

Thoroughly chastised, I can see that the woman is right. I nod my acceptance. "If you insist."

She offers me a mischievous grin. "Don't worry, this is coming out of Andy's budget for the ship, not my own wages."

I laugh at her confession. "Well, in that case…" I trail off, placing a hand on Cassidy's shoulder. "You can come back later, darling, but for now we need to go and see Destra. She would like to do our medical assessments."

To my surprise, she doesn't wheedle or argue, but thanks Emily politely for showing her around and promises to be back later. All the way back up through the cargo hold, she chatters excitedly about everything she has discovered, and my heart is so full listening to her.

I try to block the less savoury thoughts about Caroline and what her life is like right now. I know it does no good to speculate what she might be going through, but there is a nagging sense that the crew know something that I don't. Every time I have tried to speak of it, the subject has been changed and it makes me wonder what they know. What do they suspect is happening to Caroline that they won't even discuss it with me?

The medical assessment is far less intrusive than I had expected, and I am not poked or prodded even once. Instead, I am guided to lay in the Medical Assessment Chamber, or MAC as Destra refers to it. Without even touching me, she acquires all kinds of information; my blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen saturation and hydration. It records my vitamin and mineral levels as well as the efficiency of my major organs, and the health of my eyes. She explains that my main vital signs, with the addition of blood sugar are monitored every second of the day by the comms unit on my wrist. The device even feeds back to her how well I have been sleeping.

"Will I ever stop being astounded by the technology you have on this ship?" I ask Destra, gesturing around me. "I had no idea things had advanced so much."

She looks up from the control panel and smirks. "Humans think that Earth One is the most advanced civilisation in the universe, but nothing could be further from the truth. Most of the crew grew up on Nova Terra which is far more advanced than Earth One, but getting out and exploring the universe has been eye-opening for all of us. We have technology available to us now, that we didn't even know we should be dreaming of."

"Nova Terra still has land, doesn't it? It's not just a water world, like Earth One?" Cassidy joins in the conversation, no doubt eager to show off the little she has learned about the planet at the academy she attends.

"It does," Destra confirms. "Humans learned a lot from the mistakes they made with Earth One and were determined not to repeat them on a new planet. Hopefully, they won't forget those lessons any time soon, but it's early days." She points to the MAC. "In you get, Cadet."

Cassidy does as she is told, laying down in the chamber and grinning when the glass silently slides over the top of her, sealing her inside. She appears to feel none of the claustrophobia I encountered and almost looks sad when the glass slides back again and she is urged to get out.

"Both of you are in good health, and we want to keep it that way," Destra informs us seriously. "For now, you may eat what you want, but I will make changes as necessary depending on the results of your next welfare check. Both of you will need to do a minimum of an hour a day in the workout room, combining cardio and weights. Even though this ship has gravity, it's not as strong as the planet's surface, and long trips in space can still result in a degree of muscle wastage."

"Thank you, Doctor," I reply, ignoring the good natured roll of her eyes.

"You're welcome, Ms Priestly," she teases me.

"Touché." I loathe being called that, though I suppose it's better than some of the monikers I acquired on Earth One. "Come along, Cassidy. I believe the Commander wanted to see us."

Andrea is waiting for us in the lounge area. She sees me and shakes her head, an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I have got to get you out of those clothes."

"What?" I ask sharply, as Cassidy giggles next to me.

"Mom, you can't wear that. It's ridiculous."

I look down at my outfit with a frown, failing to see what could possibly be objectionable about it. My shoes are clean, there is no run in my stockings and the skirt I am wearing hugs my curves sinfully. My blouse is sheer, but not entirely see-through and certainly modest enough, considering what I have seen some of the crew wearing.

"What's wrong with it?"

Andrea smirks. "You look exactly like the woman you are."

"And why is that a problem?"

The commander gestures for Cassidy and I to sit down. "The last thing we want to do is tip off the people we are tracking. If they have people keeping an eye out along the route, then you are instantly recognisable. We need you to blend in with the crew, like the Cadet here. She looks like she was born to this life, but quite frankly, you stick out like a sore thumb."

It's true. My daughter took less than a day to beg for new clothes, taking great delight in choosing a new wardrobe with Serena and watching it all be printed. Her hair is now braided back away from her face and she seems older than when we left.

"I suppose I could accommodate your request. Do you have any suggestions?"

Andrea's eyes light up and she laughs. "I want to get you into a pair of denim pants and a t-shirt. We could ruffle up that hair a bit and give you some piercings. Nice pair of boots to finish off the outfit, and you're golden."

I narrow my eyes and she laughs harder, Cassidy joining in. "Really, Commander?"

"No, not really," she admits, still grinning. "But we do have the design templates for a couple of nice jumpsuits. They're still kind of classy, but much more practical, and you won't look out of place where we're headed. Also, the shoes really do have to go. You need something you can run in, just in case, and according to Destra you're going to need workout clothes, too."

"Why would I need to be able to run?"

She flicks her eyes towards Cassidy and pauses, choosing her wording carefully. "Where we're headed is not always the safest place. I am not necessarily anticipating trouble but I would be negligent if I didn't prepare for it."

"Then I am at your mercy, Commander. Dress me how you see fit."

An hour later, I am regretting giving her carte blanche. She brought up the clothing catalogue on the main console screen just in time for several of the crew to join us in the Cave. Against one person I might have held my ground, but with several voices in the room, somehow I do end up agreeing to several pairs of denim pants. I draw the line at the facial tattoo that Destra suggests with a wink, though. I can see now why Cassidy was so fascinated with the process. With the choices made, I am escorted to a small room off of the laundry and by the time we get there, my freshly printed clothes are folded and stacked in a pile, ready for me to collect.

I take them to my pod, changing into black jeans and a fitted black t-shirt; my feet more comfortable than I ever remember, encased in knee high black boots with a soft rubber sole and low heel. I have always been aware of the connection between presence and the clothing you wear, but it takes me by surprise just how different I feel in this outfit. I feel young again, and just for a moment, excitement overtakes my nervousness about getting Caroline back.

I walk back into the Cave, and Nigel lets out a whistle, clapping his hands. "You look hot, Miranda. Seriously."

I blush at his declaration, but it's the Commander's eyes I seek out for validation. She nods approvingly, and that bubbling excitement in my stomach increases ten fold.

"You look good, Miranda," she assures me and her eyes glow with sincerity.

I sit on the sofa revelling in my comfort; wearing this outfit is incredibly freeing. I can hear my mother's voice in my head, telling me to sit with my ankles together and I take great pleasure in ignoring it for the first time in my life.

"We have information," Serena interrupts, taking a seat next to me.

"What is it, Serena?" Andrea asks, catching the woman's serious tone.

"Miranda's ex-husband, Stephen," Serena replies, tapping her comms unit and sending information to the screen on the wall next to us. A picture of the man I recently divorced appears, and a shiver of loathing slides down my spine like ice.

"What about him?" I prompt, looking away from the screen.

"Stephen is responsible for Caroline's kidnapping. He arranged for both girls to be taken to a well known human trafficker in The Void," Serena replies, disgustedly. "Luckily Cassidy got away, but there is no doubt this is a revenge motivated kidnapping."

"Who's he working with?" the Commander growls, hands clenched into fists on the table.

I can feel the anger radiating off of her in waves, though I am confused as to why she is reacting this way. I should be the one that is angry, and I am, but her reaction far surpasses my own.

Serena reaches out a hand to soothe the woman, but she is roughly shaken off, the Commander repeating her question, each word delivered slowly, Serena flinching as though each one is a physical blow. "Who. Is. He. Working. With?! Tell me, Lieutenant!"

The Lieutenant lets out a heavy, resigned sigh. "Irv Ravitz."

"Fuck!" The Commander snarls, getting up from the sofa and storming from the Cave. The sound of a fist hitting one of the carbon pod doors reaches us, and then there is an ominous silence.

"What was that about?" I demand sharply.

Nigel shakes his head. "Not our story to tell."

"This is about my daughter," I argue, dread filling me as I consider all the reasons why the Commander might react that way.

"No. It's not," Serena counters gently. "You always knew that Caroline getting kidnapped couldn't mean anything good. This, though? This is about Andy, and it's not for us to talk about."

"But you'll get her back, right? Caroline? You'll get my sister back?" Cassidy pleads, eyes wide as she begs Serena for an answer.

"We will do everything we can, Cassidy, but you are grown up enough to know I can't possibly make that promise to you. I do guarantee you one thing, though. Andy will not give up without a fight. She will not let that bastard get away with this, if she can help it."

It clicks and I know what she is avoiding saying. "This is personal for her, isn't it? She knows this man?" I guess, looking to Serena for verification.

"Yes." She smiles sadly, and just like that, the subject is closed.

I spend the next few hours trying to keep my daughter in good spirits, both of us somewhat shaken by the Commander's reaction to the name Serena told us. All I want is answers, but I know I won't get any from the crew. They are loyal to the Commander and extremely tight-lipped. I corner each of them alone, with the exception of Emily, but none of them will tell me anything of use. I try every trick in the book, pleading with them, almost to the point of begging, but I am none the wiser.

I try explaining that the thoughts going through my mind are probably worse than anything that they can tell me. I allow myself to be vulnerable, yet I walk away with the same amount of knowledge I started with; this man, this Irv Ravitz, is a human trafficker on a universal scale. What happens to the young people once they have been captured, they refuse to tell me. Nigel lets slip that he is based on Bellator, a large planet in The Void, and that this will likely be our destination, with a few stops along the way to resupply.

Frustrated, I decide there is no better time to get started on the exercise plan Destra has laid out for me, changing into my new workout clothes and heading to the back of the ship. The room is occupied, I realise, when a repetitive thudding noise reaches me from the corridor. What it is, I'm not sure, but I swipe my comms unit in front of the display panel and enter, coming to a stop when I see the Commander.

The lights inside are off, except for the small strip of emergency lighting around the perimeter of the room, and there in the centre, is Andrea. She doesn't hear me approach, rhythmically punching the hanging bag in front of her, completely lost in her aggression. In the dim light, I can see dried tear tracks on her cheeks; her eyes hollow chasms as she never falters in her concentration. The bag swings in the gloom and she moves with it; ducking and weaving as she lays blow after blow.

"Andrea?"

She doesn't even flinch, her eyes so focused I wonder how they are not burning holes in the bag. She attacks it like it is an enemy and her life depends on it. She turns slightly and I see her knuckles, bruised and bloody. I know I need to intervene, but quite honestly, at this moment she scares me. I have never seen so much anger and venom on a person's face before and it crosses my mind that Andrea is no longer there, overtaken by her rage.

"Andrea?" I try again, not willing to get too close to her.

Still nothing. I walk around, giving her space until I appear behind the bag, facing her. "Andrea?"

She stops mid-punch, confusion wrinkling her brow. Her stance changes, and she sways where she stands. "Miranda?"

Sensing the danger is over, I step closer, wrapping my fingers around her wrist and lifting up her hand for her to see. "You're injured, Commander."

She winces, seemingly acknowledging the pain for the first time since she started. "Ow, fuck."

"I'll get Destra." I turn to leave, but she stops me.

"No, please don't. I know what she'll say. I know I should have taped my hands."

"You need to be patched up, Commander."

She hangs her head, rolling her shoulders forwards and grimacing. She looks up with glassy eyes. "Could you… Would you please help me?"

"I'm not a medic."

"I know. I have a medi-kit in my suite though, and I just need help cleaning them up. We have skin glue that will hold the cuts together. It's not difficult."

"Commander… Andrea. I'm not a medic. You could end up horribly scared if you let me attempt to patch you up."

"I already am," she replies flatly.

"You do this often?" I ask curiously.

"Please will you help me?" she dodges my question and I wonder what she is hiding. Is it the fact she has hurt herself doing this before, or does she mean that her other scars are from something else she doesn't want to talk about? Not for the first time, I wonder about her life. What made her become a mercenary? Where are her family? Where did she grow up? She is the most stubbornly closed off person I have ever met though, and it's laughable to think I will get any answers from her.

"Very well, if you insist," I agree. Maybe by helping her I will gain her trust. Maybe she will finally give me answers and explain what we are up against.

She offers me a weak smile, leading us out into the corridor and up towards her suite. I know the other pods are just like mine and Cassidy's but I am unprepared for the size of the Commander's quarters. She has her own living area, kitchen and bathroom, as well as a huge bed that is the focal point for the room. Yet another question about the mysterious woman is added to the list. If she has all this space then why does she spend so much time in the communal areas, when she seems to dislike spending time with people?

"Take a seat." She gestures to the sofa, and then slips into the bathroom. Next to me, a blue sports bra is thrown haphazardly over the back of the sofa and my memory stirs. Yesterday, Destra had been wearing a similar garment underneath a black short sleeve shirt that was tied at the waist. Before I can think more on it, Andrea returns with a small, red zip-up bag and hands it to me.

I see her hands for the first time in bright lighting and gasp at the damage she has done to herself. Vivid blue and purple bruising streaks across blood-smeared fingers and knuckles. "Oh, Andrea. What have you done to yourself?"

"I didn't do it on purpose," she snaps, her eyes flashing dangerously. It reminds me I am never quite sure how I feel about this woman and her crew. The Commander has a list of bodies unofficially accredited to her that would make a serial killer nervous, though she has always evaded prosecution. The only proven deaths come under the banner of self defence, when they have been forced to defend their ship. I have known since I arrived that this is a woman that I do not want to aggravate.

I don't reply, working methodically to clean up her wounds with antiseptic wipes. She scowls when I make contact with the broken skin, her breath hitching when I dry her hands as gently as I can. When the blood has been cleaned, I see old scars littering her skin, and not just on her hands. She passes me the glue, and it's a matter of seconds before the scarlet slits are closed.

Andrea meets my eyes and I can see her gratitude. "Thank you," she murmurs, and now she is not scowling, her breathtaking beauty shines through. For a moment I want to comfort her more than I want answers, but I push aside the impulse to pull her into my arms.

"Where is my daughter, Andrea? Who is Irv Ravitz?"

She shakes her head stubbornly. "Thanks for your help, but I'm needed in the Cave now."

"Andrea, please."

"No, Miranda. Contrary to your belief, you don't need to know every single little detail. You're not entitled to it and you've certainly not earned it. Caroline is safe at the moment and she will be until she arrives on Bellator. If we can intercept her before then, then great. If we can't, then we will have to attempt an on-planet rescue. I believe that even once she arrives there, we will have a little time before she is in any actual danger."

"How do you know that? How can you possibly know that, Andrea? You don't know what they will do to her! You don't know why they want her."

"You're wrong," she argues sadly. "I know better than anyone what they will do to her."

With that parting shot, she gets up and walks out the door, leaving me alone in her suite. A part of me wants to look around. I want to know more about this infuriating woman, but even with a brief glance around the room, I can see that I am unlikely to find anything of use. The Commander has next to zero personal possessions, despite the luxury of the room and her apparent wealth.

I leave and head back to the Cave, and find my daughter in the kitchen with Nigel, preparing the next meal for the crew. Up at the front, the Commander is sitting in front of the console, not even looking at Destra, who from what I can tell, might be reprimanding her about the state of her knuckles. I hear hissed whispers, before the medic throws up her hands and walks away. As she passes me, she rolls her eyes and grins conspiratorially, like we are both part of the same secret.

We're not, though. Her crew know things about the Commander and I get the feeling that I never will. What confuses me more than anything though, is why I should so desperately want to.