I gazed sullenly out the window of the ship. Leaning my head against the cool glass, I studied the blackness that surrounded me. Space, such a romantic notion to so many, was so desolate, so bleak. The endlessness of it was oftentimes suffocating. Outside the ship, stars twinkled in the distance, seemingly no closer than if I were on Earth looking up at the sky. The vast emptiness of the universe held me in its grasp as my ship made its way to Beta 4. I was alone on this mission, but then I was always alone – whether the powers that be decided it or not. But this time, it was a mandate from above that I retrieve the prisoner on my own. Apparently I was on the shit list and had to prove myself once more as loyal to the Territories.

I thought about the trouble I had gotten into recently. I had talked back to a superior officer at a most inopportune time. The poor asshole had just found out his wife was cheating on him. Perhaps if I had known that, I would’ve kept my mouth shut. But I wasn’t in the best mood that day. I had ended what had turned out to be another pointless relationship and the guy had actually argued with me about it. He didn’t want to break up and figured that was all that mattered. I chuckled to myself as I teased the memory around in my head. The bastard tried to tell me I couldn’t break it off, tried to use force to keep me there. I told him if he didn’t take his hands off of me, this relationship wouldn’t be the only thing that would be broken off that day.

I remembered the look on the Captain’s face when I refused his instructions. I knew I was justified as the orders were completely bogus and the mission he was instigating illegal. He was just angry about his wife. And I didn’t want to play the part of pawn in any silly game involving marital troubles. He didn’t take to that very well and threatened to throw me into lockup for a week…Instead, though, here I was: in the middle of deep space on an inane mission to retrieve a supposedly dangerous political prisoner. I had never thought the words dangerous and political went together very well. Politics was a sissy sport and I did my best not to get involved. I didn’t find anything dangerous about it or anyone in the midst of the political scene. The only thing unnerving about politicians in the least was their apparent stupidity. The world was run by suits. And I did my best to pretend they didn’t exist. It was the age old I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me concept.

I prepared for my hyper-sleep, stripping off my flightsuit for the more comfortable, albeit archaic, tank top and boxer shorts. I liked cotton, the feel of it on my skin, soft and inviting. Synthetic fabrics were the only things you could get anymore on my planet and they left me feeling cold. But this cotton stuff was amazing. I set the autopilot and programmed my wake up call for when the ship approached Beta 4. Everything was in order, so I lay down in the hyper-sleep chamber and closed the heavy lid. I was sealed in and asleep in no time at all.

I dreamed endlessly it seemed. I dreamed about my parents, and I was trying to reach out to them but they kept drifting further and further away from me. I could never quite get to them. I felt terribly sad in my dream. They had died years ago in a fire and I still missed them every single day. Sometimes I found it hard to breathe. I also dreamed of a man. His face was fuzzy and undefined but the rest of him was clear as day. He was chiseled and sweaty, his muscular arm held out to me. I put my hand in his and he pulled me to him. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. I woke with a start as the alarm sounded.

“Shit!” I yelled.

I got out of the chamber as quickly as I could and ran to the bridge. Lights were flashing all over the instrument panel and as I looked out the glass shield I saw to my horror that not only had I reached Beta 4, but I was about to crash land into it. The ship hurtled toward red rock and sand. I took the controls and tried to keep her nose up, but it was no use.

“Fuck!”

I braced myself for impact as my beloved spaceship touched down, not that I could really call it that, on Beta 4. She bounced a few times across the dunes and I was thrown forward, hitting my head on the panel. I was knocked unconscious and the big tin can that had carried me on more missions than I could count was beat to hell and had come to a halt on the surface of a godforsaken desert planet.

When I came to, I felt sticky blood dripping down my face. I reached up to feel my head and felt a sting as I touched the gash above my right eye.

“Ow,” I mumbled to myself, trying to sit up and survey the damage.

My head was pounding and I felt dizzy. Get it together, I thought. We’ve been through worse shit than this. I stumbled back to the hyper-sleep chamber to grab my flight suit. I didn’t want to wander around this stupid planet in my pj’s. I zipped back into my suit and looked around to survey the damage. I couldn’t see any major hull breach, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. I grabbed my pack and opened the hatch to climb outside.

The suns were almost blinding. I took my solar glasses out of my bag and put them on. The landscape was harsh and ugly, red sand as far as I could see and craggy monuments of rock rising up from the dunes in the distance. The heat was stifling. I stood back to get a good look at my ship, chuckling to myself about how I must look. If anyone were to be watching me, I’d look like some silly cliché from an early millennium sci fi film. I was tall and slender, my hair long and red, billowing behind me in the slight breeze blowing across the desert. My flight suit was dark blue and hugged all of my curves in just the right places, another reason I hated to wear it. I was an officer in the Territories Army and didn’t give a shit about my curves. I shook off the thoughts of my asinine movie moment and trudged around in the sand, looking for a hull breach. There was none. I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever work had to be done to get her back up and running I could handle, but a hull breach was impossible to fix in the middle of a desert without the proper tools and materials.

Satisfied that I would be able to fix my ship in a timely manner, I went back inside to get some coordinates on my position. I needed to know how far from my destination I had landed. According to the computer, the Beta 4 prison complex was four clicks away. Not bad, I thought. I took my canteen from what passed for a galley and filled it with a decent portion of the ship’s water supply. Strapping it to my belt, I slung my pack over my shoulder, grabbed my space compass and headed out the hatch.

I stood outside the ship to get my bearings, setting the compass to Beta 4 protocol so it would give me the proper direction. There was no north pole here like on earth so the compass had to be reset with every planet. It was tricky technology and I had never understood it. But it showed me the right direction to set off in and that was all I needed. I trudged across the dunes, red sand swirling about me in the breeze. I was glad I had the glasses, not only for protection against the planet’s three suns, but also from the stinging sand.

I made it to the prison in what I liked to think was record time. I was there to get a job done and I fully intended to carry out the mission regardless of any setbacks. I flashed my TA identification at the cameras outside the massive metal gate and entered the complex. A guard greeted me almost immediately.

“We’ve been expecting you,” he told me. “The prisoner has been readied for transport.”

“Thanks a lot,” I told him. “Let’s just bring him out and I’ll be on my way.”

“Where is your ship?” the guard asked me, looking behind me past the gate.

“A little ways from here,” I answered. “No worries, I’ve got everything under control.”

The last thing I wanted was the Outer Rim Prison guards trying to help me fix my ship. I knew that hunk of junk better than anyone and was the only one who could fix her properly. If they knew I had crashed, they would be all over it like maggots on rotting food. Nope, I thought, can’t have that. So I played like everything was fine and the nice guard led me into the facility to receive the transfer of the prisoner.

I waited not so patiently, signing papers and shoveling through the pile of bureaucratic crap that was moving a living body from one system to another. Finally, just when I thought I’d go crazy if there were any more paperwork, the door opened and two guards ushered in my dangerous political prisoner. I sucked in a breath as I saw that he looked exactly like the man I had dreamed about before the crash woke me up. It was uncanny. I had never seen him before. I hadn’t been able to see his face in my dream, but his clothes, his body, even his shoes, were all the same as they had been in my head. I caught myself staring and my eyes met his. He stared back with a dark, piercing gaze. His face looked haunted, as though he had seen things he wished he hadn’t. I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. Oh my god, what the hell was wrong with me? I gave myself a mental slap and tried to get it together.

“Okay, boys,” I said in my best don’t mess with me or I’ll kick your ass voice. “I’ll take it from here.”

I held my hand out for the keys, a smug look on my face. The boys at the prison didn’t think I could handle the prisoner. I didn’t care what they thought. I knew better. Warily, they handed him and the keys to his restraints over to me. I gestured to the prisoner to move forward and he obeyed. Wanting to make sure he knew full well that I was armed, I tapped a finger on the blaster gun holstered across my hip. He nodded, seeming to get my drift. I followed him out of the complex and to the main gate. We waited. They took their time letting us out, but eventually the gate opened and we were through it and on the way back to the ship.

As I walked behind the prisoner, I took the liberty of studying him. His physique was impressive. He was muscular and tall; he wore a ratty old synthetic flight suit, but had unzipped it and tied the sleeves around his waist to reveal a sweat drenched cotton tank top. I think they used to be called wife-beaters in the old days. His hands were bound in the front by an iron chain, the same chain wrapped loosely around his ankles as well. He was an amazing male specimen. I had to give him that, and he shared my love of cotton. I chuckled as I realized I was sizing up a prisoner, an outlaw, a lawbreaker. He turned around, walking backwards and looked at me. He spoke to me for the first time since I had taken custody of him.

“What’s funny, Ace?” he asked. His voice was deep and resonant and caught me totally of guard.

“None of your business, lawbreaker,” I responded, sounding as scornful as I could muster after having been caught completely checking him out.

He shrugged in response and turned around to continue the long walk to the ship. He looked around a few times and I could tell he was wondering where the hell my ship was. I stuck my nose up in the air at even the slightest hint of having to explain why I didn’t pick him up at the front door. I didn’t have to explain anything to him. He seemed to know better than to ask me, too, so it made for a not unpleasant journey. The heat was a bit much, but I made do and I didn’t really care one way or the other if the prisoner was overly warm.

We reached my ship and the prisoner came to a grinding halt. He appeared to survey the damage and turned to look at me.

“What happened, Ace? Your first time flying?”

The jackass was making fun of me. I pulled my gun out of its holster and pointed it at him. He eyed me closely, unsure if I would actually use the weapon on him. Little did he know I was no push over and was sure as hell not going to be sassed by the likes of him. I held the gun on him just long enough to get him nervous and then I shrugged, slipped it back in the holster and went about trying to fix my ship.