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Chapter 1

When I awoke, a shrill siren echoed down what sounded like empty steel hallways. Not a pleasant start to any morning, least of all this one. As I began to come to, I realized I was no longer in my home, in my warm, soft bed, safe and sound in my nice little New York apartment. I stared in disbelief at the ceiling, and then the walls of this strange place in which I found myselffor they were the unusual, but unmistakeable ceiling and walls of a prison cell. Suddenly a sense of panic overwhelmed me and I sat up with a start, which caused the reality of a previously dull pain in the back of my head to sink in deep. This was no dream, that much was for certain. I considered my first attempt at getting up to be a failure, and lay back down to try to get a grip, but it wasn't going to happen. My heart was beating faster and faster every moment, the sound of the siren seemingly getting more desperate with each beat in my chest, but the pain in my head was not subsiding according to plan. At the count of three... I told myself, clenching my teeth in preparation for the pain to return in full force as I thrust myself onto my feet. It did. My right hand instinctively shot back to hold onto (and thereby somehow ease the pain of) my aching head. It was only half a surprise to discover a bruise easily a quarter of the size of my palm throbbing from being lain upon for what I presumed to have been a long while. As I drew my hand back, however, another surprise realization registered with my flustered brain: my hair had been cut short! It barely even came down to my shoulders! Not now. I can't...think...about it now. Move girl, move! One leg went forward, bringing with it numerous pains of its own. I couldn't fathom what had happened to me. Frankly, I didn't want to. As long as that siren kept on wailing and I was standing in some strange, metallic prison cell, the only thing that mattered was that I find my way outand fast. I quickly looked about the cell to get my bearings on what options I had for escape. Stupid idea. Last I checked, prison cells aren't usually built with escape routes. I was wasting my time, and for all I knew, time was exactly what I was running short on. Desperation is a funny thing. I'm often not sure if it brings out the faith or the foolishness in people. Whatever it is though, desperation always results in action, even if said action goes contrary to all logic and reason. 2

As it sank in that I was truly confined in my cell with no way out, for one quick moment, adrenaline reached such a peak that the world around me became crystal clearclearer than it had ever been before in my life. It was as if all of my energy was being built up for one final attempt at survival, and I knew that if I failed to use it properly, I may have nothing left. Like a madman, I rushed for the door, ignoring the pains that threatened to weigh me down with each aggravating movement, and tried to bash it in. I don't know what I was expecting to happen; certainly no young woman like me would be anywhere near capable of knocking down a prison door with plain force. I cried out as my target and I collided, amplifying the aches and pains all over my body until for a minute I wondered if I might pass out. Dizzy, I sank onto the floor, sliding up against that infernal door, which remained resolutely in place. It was a cruel contrast; I, the prisoner, struggling for balance on the floor, while my ever-present prison guard, Mr. Door, stared down at me and laughed. Get...control...of your breathing! Come on, now! Don't pass out, you idiot! Insanity threatened to take over. Every nerve in my head lit afire as I realized there was a possibility that I might actually die in this placeas in, the permanent, forever kind of death. I hadn't ever really thought about death in that sense before. It was always a distant thing to me; the plan was never to stare it in the face before I'd even hit 30. You'll make it, girl. Somehow you're going to get out of this alive. I never was all that good at convincing myself of something, especially when I was sitting on the floor, doing nothing. So I stood up in defiance of death, and I'd like to say I laughed in his face as I turned to face the door once again, but that would be a lie. Instead, death did all the laughing. The ground beneath me shook with a violence, and I tripped backwards up against the bed I had been on previously. Then there was a sickening mechanical groan from somewhere beyond my little room, and a portion of the cell's ceiling collapsed, bringing down with it flaming debris and enough smoke and dust to blind a person for good. I rolled across the floor (as walking was simply not an option with the tremors) and barely managed to dodge the worst of the ensuing wreckage. My heart was racing. As soon as I was able to find my footing again, I made another dash at the door, this time hitting it straight on, hands pushing with all their might to try to get it to lift. One moment later, to my shock, I was suddenly colliding with the floor againface first. I caught myself in the fall, but not in time to land comfortably. My hands screamed from the impact with the iron floor, as the molded grip dug painfully into my skin. At the same time, however, there was a bit of relief in the way of air temperature and oxygen. Had the fire been relieved from the surrounding atmosphere? I couldn't yet see what had happened; my face was still pointed downward while I tried fiercely to build up the strength to overcome all that painthat endless, relentless pain and stand up once more. 3

Just before I could, a voice startled me as it blared over a PA system loud enough to be in competition with the sirens. Warning: Prisoner 005337 escaping! A robotic-sounding voice proclaimed in a dreadful monotone. Escaping! I thought out loud. If I were escaping, that meant I had to be outside of my prison cell! This hope in mind, I immediately found the strength to stand up, and sure enough, behind me was a prison cell with an open door. Wait...an open door? Not a broken one? Had I been released? Another blast of turbulence rocked the whole place, reminding me not to stop and wonder about the unimportant things just now. I staggered back, managed not to fall, and tried to quickly figure out exactly where I was and how I could get out. The first thing my eyes fell upon were the many other cells that lined the iron hallway I was standing in now. They too were empty, and their bulkhead doors were all retracted. Not the encouragement I was going for...I got an eerie feeling as I wondered what rapists and murderers might be hiding around corners, watching me right then. The turbulence gradually came to a halt, and I cautiously (but briskly) moved forward through the foreboding line of prison cells. I had noticed a small sealed door at the end of the row with a big, yellow 03 painted above it, presumably for indicating what floor I was on. Instinct told me I'd find stairs or an elevator through that way. Once there, I pushed down on the door's rusted handle, mostly using body weight for leverage so as to avoid triggering as much muscular pain as possible. It took a good deal of effort, but eventually the handle snapped down and with a rush of air the door burst open of its own accord, pulling me into the stairwell behind it. I tried not to think about why a prison block would need to be so tightly sealed off. The only thing that came to mind was poison gas. The stairs rounded two corners, and were probably two dozen steps in all. Every single one was a trial of its own, but somehow I made it, putting me in a kind of viewing room; I was looking from behind a glass wall down at the prison cells below, and across the hallway I could see another glasswalled chamber just like this one. Between the two, every cell could have a careful eye kept on it (that is, when everyone wasn't running for their livesboth rooms were empty now). However, the lack of guards in the area proved to be rather unfortunate. It appeared that an elevator was the only way in or out of either of the viewing areas, and that required I have a key of some sort to operate the thing. No matter how frantically I pushed the button in the wall, all I got was a harsh beep and a little light in the keyhole beneath. My argument with the elevator controls was interrupted by a dull creaking that fast became a loud groaning not unlike the last one I had heard. Only this one was bigger and louder; my teeth began to chatter from the vibration. Oh no. A beam broke from the ceiling before I could even finish muttering to myself. There was no escaping its graspthe glass walls were cut through like butter, sending deadly shards flying 4

everywhere, including a few pieces that dug into my arms as I shielded my face. But the beam was so big it didn't stop there! Panels were ripped clean off the wall just beside me and the floor I was standing on bent and cracked before finally bringing the fallen debris to a halt. Once the dust had cleared and it seemed safe to move, I inspected the damage briefly. If I had been a foot to the right... The prospect was shocking. That wall could have been...me! Had I tried to run back to the stair well for safety I likely would have died right there. I don't know what possessed me to remain where I was, but I owed my life to it. The little shards of glass were certainly not enjoyable to have stuck in my arms, but at least I was still alive. Providence was watching over me. Hold on now...what's this? Where the wall had previously been was now a hole that revealed a large air ductlarge enough for me to fit in if I crawled, or perhaps even just crouched. I had no idea where it led, and it would likely be very dirty, but with sirens going off and things falling from the ceiling every few minutes, I didn't take much convincing. I leaned inside the duct and began to crawl very slowly. It was only a few awkward steps in that the light in front of me ran out completely, leaving me to navigate in pitch blackness. I've never been fond of the dark. Don't think about it, girl, just keep moving. When the 'just keep moving' kept me just moving for several more minutes, concerns again tried to creep in. What do you think this duct is even used for? Is it really just air, or is it perhaps where all the poison gas flows through to the prison cells? You do realize that any two people could easily trap you from both sides and there would be no way out, right? Stop it! Now that's enough! It truly was an accident that I shouted quite so loudly at myself, but immediately after doing so the thought occurred to me that I may have also accidentally stumbled upon something brilliant. I stopped moving for a moment to listen to the resulting echo of my voice, hoping it would give me some judgment of distance. It did not, but as the pulsating sounds faded away, I realized there was another sound which was not a part of the echo: a sort of constant chugging that seemed to be coming from ahead and to my left. I only hoped it was evidence of an exit and not just some machine I was hearing through the duct. My ears remained intent on the faint chugging noise as my weary arms and legs did their best to continue carrying me forward. With time, the noise got louder and more definitely to my left. I blindly felt along the wall and discovered that the duct actually split and continued on in multiple directions. Of course! Why didn't you think of that sooner? 5

Despite the fact that I could very well have been heading straight into a furnace or something that would lead to an instantaneous death, I decided to follow the noise down the passage on the left and see where it would take me. Almost immediately upon turning, my eyes picked up the faintest hint of light some thirty feet away. I made it to the end of the duct quickly with a renewed hope. My path turned once again to the right and then opened directly into a very large duct area with a monster of a fan blowing at full speed down ten feet or so from where I now stood (speaking of which, standing had never felt so good, even though it hurt). A dim light shone through the fan blades from below, giving me just enough sight to be able to tell what the room was like. Across the fan from me was a service elevator, but getting there was clearly not going to be an easy task. There was about a six inch lip around the perimeter of the room, and below that everything was slanted like a funnel leading down to the fan. One slip and I was a goner. I breathed deep and carefully stepped out onto the ledge along the wall. Before even getting all the way out I accepted the fact that my heels would be in agony by the end of my trip and that I would simply bear the pain and make it through alive no matter how long it took. Never before I had I even come close to making that kind of mental decision...but then again, never before had I been in a position where everything in me simply screamed for survival. Both arms were outstretched to my sides for balance and my back was kept completely straight. I carefully, slowly inched my way around that room, never daring to look down. When the service elevator was finally in reach, I practically leaped into it like a child leaps into its parent's arms and triumphantly pulled the lever to start the lift. Of course with my luck it had to be an irritatingly slow elevator...but I didn't exactly mind the time to sit and catch my breath. It suddenly dawned on me that my heart had been beating so hard I could hear it in my ears ever since I first woke up in the strange place... How did I get into this mess anyway? My mind wanted to think through this and a million other questions as well, but it was still so bewildered that any attempt to reason my way into an explanation simply short-circuited the thought process entirely and drew only a blank. There wasn't time enough to answer half of my questions anyway, even on a lift this slow. Nothing made sense. Last I knew I was going to bed on a normal October night, and suddenly I'm thrust into all this! I would have discounted the whole thing as just a dream if it weren't for the agony every inch of my body was in. That pain was a constant reminder that I was very much alive and awake far from merely experiencing an odd vision of the night. I had no idea where I was or why I was put there as a prisonera prisoner of all things! I had no idea why sirens were going off and the place was falling apart. I had no idea if I was even going to survive until the end of the day (though it occurred to me that I also had no idea what time of day it was in the first place). All I had to go on was a drive that I had never experienced before: the will, no...the determination to survive. I couldn't bear it anymore. All the pain combined with the loneliness I was now going through 6

boiled over into tears, but for some reason I didn't want to cry. It took some effort, but I managed to stifle it just as the elevator ride came to an end. Once my wits were gathered as much as possible, I began to kick with all my might against the wall at the end of the elevator shaft. Hinges along the top edge suggested it once opened up smoothly, but those days were long gone now. Something was holding it shut fast, and I had no other option but to break through. Another kickthis time with the opposite leg, for I was half afraid my bones were going to break, so unforgiving was the impact. The door remained shut, but I could feel it give it a little bit this time. One more kick and a little shove and the hinges simply snapped, breaking off the entire panel. Under normal circumstances I might have felt proud of myself, but everything hurt far too much for me enjoy any success too much. Upon attempting to get out, my first foot landed on an unstable surface and I went tumbling to the floor on top of something mixed cold and warm and all wet, knocking the wind out of me. A couple seconds later when I was able to breath again, I propped myself up to see what unfortunate object I had fallen on top of. Immediately I wished I had never known; the sight was so horrible I practically leaped back a good five feet. I had stumbled on the dead and badly torn up body of one poor man who didn't flee fast enough once the sirens had started proclaiming their warnings. Blood was everywhere, and now the front of my tank top shirt was covered in it as well! To continue wearing it with someone else's blood was disgusting beyond belief, but I was in the undesirable position of being able only to verbally express my distasteI wasn't about to die in that place because I stayed behind one minute too long looking for a clean shirt to change into. Warning: Sixty minutes to impact. A voice rang out from somewhere not far away. The voice had an inhuman tone about it, yet it was much more natural and pleasant than the last warning voice I had heard, and so I nearly mistook it for a living being. Hello? I called out. Is...is someone there? I cautiously moved around a stack of crates that had been blocking my view of the room, and found the place to be devoid of life. At the same time, however, there was plenty in the way of interesting things to look at. I had made my way into some sort of control room, and I had never seen anything like it before in my life! Of course I have no pictures to prove it, but I imagine my face looked rather silly for a moment right then, jaw dropped, eyes nearly popped out of my head as I stared several rows of desks covered with what seemed to be holographic projections, which were complemented by massive screens that appeared to have been built right into the walls in front of all the desks. Slowly I approached one of the many desks in the room and reached out to touch a bar graph that sat suspended in thin air. To my surprise, as soon as my finger made contact with the image, I received a minor electrical shock that had almost the same effect as making contact with a solid object. The graph spun slightly as if it had been nudged, and the data displayed on it changed to something completely different than whatever it had been showing before. Warning! The voice rang out again. Engines 0 through 27 are offline. Engines 28-50 are 7

critically damaged. Engines 51 through 73 are offline. Engines 74 through 100 are heavily damaged. Would you like to re-run the engine assessment to scan for changes in engine status? Engines? And 100 of them no less! What kind of place is this? Um, no. I said aloud. Computer? I heard a strange beeping sound and supposed it meant the computer was listening to me. What is this place? You are standing on the control deck aboard the Rogue Nexus, a centuriengine-class interspace cargo ship originally outfitted to meet and comply with ISTSS as it was established in the year 2302. The computer went on spewing out details about the ship and how it had since been modified with lots of technical jargon I didn't fully understand, but I barely caught anything else after its mention of the year 2302. Last I checked, it was only 2012, and while I could have accepted (with some surprise) that I'd been out even a year or two, I couldn't even begin to believe that I'd somehow jumped ahead 300 years! And yet, with all the signs of highly advanced technology around me, a part of my mind desperately wanted to accept the idea as truth just so that one question could be put to rest as answered. Excuse me, I interrupted, what is ISTSS? ISTSSor Interspace Travel Safety and Standardsis a set of periodically updated documents created and maintained by the governing authorities in the United States of America. Originally introduced in 2297, it has since undergone 3 revisions in order to keep up with the rapidly advancing technologies involved in space travel. My head suddenly seemed to get very light and I nearly lost my footing. If what I thought this thing was telling me was correct...I was on a space ship! This is...impossible! Computer! I shouted, now desperate. Where is a window? The Rogue Nexus is not equipped with any windows, Miss Code. Windows are considered structural weaknesses. 'Miss Code'? Where on earth did the machine pull out a name like 'Miss Code'? Oh well...perhaps it thinks I'm the captain or something. Please...can I see outside somehow? I begged, almost forgetting in my desperation that I was speaking to a computer. Please walk over to the main screen and I can call up a live video feed of the hull's exterior for you. Ten feet or so away from me a giant screen flickered to life, and on it I could see part of the 8

outside of the space ship, millions of brightly shining stars in the distance, and a green-blue planet directly in front of the ship's nose. I remembered then what the computer had said about sixty minutes to impact, and how the engines were all either damaged beyond use or completely offline, and the force of this understanding upon my mind combined with the shock of learning I was out in the middle of space 300 years later than what I had last known all served to push something in me over the edge. All around me things started to blur and I could feel myself start to become disoriented, and before I knew what was going on, I found myself on the floor, unable to stop shaking...and I was vomiting. At that point the worst thing I could do was lose it and pass out again, but try as I might, I could not stay awake, and soon the world had once again faded to the blackness and dead silence of unconsciousness. Right now you may be expecting me to say that when I woke back up, I discovered it had all just been a horrible nightmare, and life continued on as normal. I half expected the same thing. But I was granted no such luxury. The first thing that I became aware of as the world slowly began to return to me on the floor of that ship, the Rogue Nexus, was that blasted ever-blaring alarm. It was the sole reason I never doubted the reality of what I had just been through as I came to again; well, that and all the pain which would otherwise go unexplained. I could close my eyes and pretend the world around me didn't exist, and under different circumstances that wouldn't have seemed like a bad idea, but my life was on a timer and I didn't have any time for games. Computer! There was a beep as there had been before. My vision wasn't yet fully restored, but with the help of one of the desks for support I was beginning to find my feet again. How long before impact? We have exactly 34 minutes, Miss Code. What is the deal with the 'Miss Code' business? What are my options for survival? I knew it was a long shot to ask a question like that, but if it was possible to save some time in my queries, it seemed worth a try. And can you please shut off that alarm? I think I get the message now. Certainly, Miss Code. I nearly corrected the computer on my name that time, but quickly decided I'd rather not have it know. Besides, I was rather enjoying the sudden silence that took over with the demise of the incessant 9

alarm, and preferred not to break it so quickly, even with my own voice. Now, I reminded the machine, about my escape? All available lifeboats were jettisoned by the ship's crew at 21:04. There is currently no other known method of safely abandoning ship at my disposal. Is there some way I can take a quick look over the ship myself? I asked, knowing full well I would likely have no idea what I was doing if the computer responded in the affirmative. Please step up to the Captain's control desk while I initialize the ship diagnostics system. A quick look about the room revealed the existence of a large deskeasily three times the size of one of the many individual desks in the control roomdirectly in the center, facing the largest screen in the place. I assumed this was the Captain's control desk, and so I stepped up to it and spun the chair around so I could get in. Instead I only received a mental jolt as I saw that there was another dead body, torn up just as badly as the last one, slumped down in the Captain's chair. There was no way that I was going to move the body just so I could sit down, so instead in my disgust I threw the chair aside with all my might, causing it to upset and dump the body on the floor. There was something profoundly wrong about seeing a dead body moved like that, seemingly of its own accord, even though gravity was doing the real work. I felt as if I had awakened a ghost. Wait one second, where does the gravity in this place come from, anyway? No...don't ask unimportant questions. Just keep working. I found myself eye-level with a holographic scale model of what I figured to be the Rogue Nexus. Assuming the color on the holograph was accurate, the ship was a dusty brown box. Generally uninteresting in shapenothing at all like the sleek white space ship I had envisioned. It was not, of course, a perfect box shape; smaller, equally boxy areas jutted out here and there, and on the rear end a hundred tubes of varying sizes stuck out a decent distance, but overall the ship's appearance was surprisingly simple and plain. And ugly. Just then a little orange holographic icon appeared on the desk in front of me, which showed a simple demonstration of a human holding his hands out in front of him, first with palms flat against each other, and then swiftly pulling them apart. I slowly gathered that I was supposed to mimic the icon's actions. I put my palms flat together out in front of me, and then quickly pulled them apart as the demonstration had shown. Immediately, the model of the Rogue Nexus split apart into tons of little pieces, each one showing the interior of a different compartment of the ship. These pieces organized themselves after a fashion I didn't entirely grasp and then waited suspended in the air above the desk. Uh...what am I supposed to do with this? The computer made no audible reply, but the little orange icon flickered and then changed in animation so that the figure now pointed to different objects in front of it, pinched and moved them, and performed a number of different motions to accomplish different tasks. My mind was too tired and 10

stressed to even make an attempt at memorizing them all, so I turned back to the ship model and hoped I'd simply be able to figure things out now that I had the basic idea in mind. The first area that caught my eye was a hallway lined with man-sized holes that led to escape vehicles of claustrophobic dimensions. I reached out and touched it, again feeling the synthetic solidity these strange images possessed by way of electricity. The hallway grew larger and pushed the other rooms off to the sides so I could get a better look at it. A green, spinning wheel also appeared (a bit unexpectedly) next to the room with the words Updating Sector Status in the middle. After a moment, the green wheel shrank away, and the hologram changed itself to reveal the missing lifeboats and the damage the place currently was enduring. So really all the lifeboats have been used? I asked. Isn't there an emergency lifeboat or something left on the ship? All lifeboats are for emergency purposes, Miss Code. To hide an extra one elsewhere would be counter-intuitive. I pushed the image away and it shrank back to its original position amongst the other rooms. Ugh, I don't have time to go through all of these! I can only spend time looking at places that actually have some potential for escape. Think girl, think! This time I reached out with both hands and grabbed two corners of a room filled with large lockers. Once the green wheel had come and gone, indicating it had been updated to its current appearance, I began to rotate the room around to try to get a look in the lockers. As I had hoped, there were a few suits left to choose from. Computer, what kind of protection does the suit in Locker F provide? Would it enable one to survive out in space? The suit in Locker F is equipped for ship maintenance purposes, and as such provides only supplemental oxygen processing and minor protection against frigid temperatures. Using this type of suit out in open space has not been tested, and is highly not recommended. What about elsewhere on the ship? Is there anywhere I can find a suit for use in open space? There is a small collection of suits designed for open space down on the Engineering deck. The locker room was pulled from my hands and an area on the Engineering deck took dominance. Simply scan your engineering access card in the door on the left and you will find a suit designed for open space. However, these suits are not intended for regular use, and are not preequipped with oxygen in their tanks. You will need to find a supervisor to operate the oxygen processing machine for you, which can be found up the stairs to the right of the closet on the engineering deck.

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My heart sank. Just when things had been getting hopeful, pass cards and engineers had to get involved and crush my hopes of survival once again. There simply wasn't enough time to go for a suit I likely wouldn't even be able to use. I had only one shot at escape, and so I decided to keep looking until I found something that would actually work. How much time is left before the impact, Computer? Warning: 27 minutes to impact. Evacuate immediately. I'd love to. I was running out of ideas fast. Frantically my hands moved from one room to another, examining each one briefly and then pushing it away with growing intensity. No matter what ideas tried to form, they all got stuck at the part where I actually had to get out in space. I could try to simply find an oxygen mask, but that didn't solve the problem of the temperatures; these prison clothes wouldn't keep me warm on a nice day back home, much less out in the middle of space! And nothing could fix the temperature issue except a specially designed suit, which I was cut off from by security. Can you override the security on the engineering deck? I finally asked, about to give up. I am only a system monitor, Miss Code. My control over ship functions beyond this room is highly limited. I made one last pass through the holograms, hands and fingers moving from one motion to the next so intently and quickly that it felt as if I were conducting a symphony. There was not even one sign of hope anywhere. Damage to the ship was extensive; fires had broken out in multiple places, ceilings had fallen in...whatever hit the giant box in the first place really hit it hard. Suddenly the notion that I could try to call for help came to mind. Getting safely onto another ship within twenty minutes sounded nearly impossible, but I was willing to try just about anything. Computer, what is the nearest ship to the Rogue Nexus? One moment please. Scanning. I'm certain there was only a momentary lapse in time while the system monitor did its scanning thing, but in my situation, a moment felt like an eternity. No other ships detected in the vicinity, Miss Code. How large is 'this vicinity'? My scanners average at a range of 1,000 kilometers. However, under these circumstances, that range may be limited closer to 800. I have not yet run a detailed analysis of the damage on the ship's scanners, therefore I can only estimate for the time being. 1,000 kilometers! Even if someone were on the edge of that they wouldn't make it in time...

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That sense of survival in me turned quickly into a sense of hopeless desperation. For a moment my mind flashed back to that horrible cell I had first woken up in, and I felt all over again the pressing heat of the fire as my time drew shorter and shorter. Somehow, just in the nick of time, the door had been opened for me then. However, I was beginning to get a gut feeling that the same thing was not going to happen a second time. Finally I collapsed onto my knees, too much in shock to actually cry, although it would not have been a difficult thing for me to do right then otherwise. The Rogue Nexus was going to crash on a distant planet, and I was going to crash with it. There was no getting around the inevitable. Warning: 20 minutes to impact. The tears finally came back as I sat on the floor, limp from sheer lack of hope. Whatever I may have said against my now-old, simple life in an apartment complex, I took back right then. I would have given anything to go back to that life now. Life, I thought. My last possession. Truly everything else has been taken from me, and yet I still have me...for twenty more minutes. I remained sitting there for a short while, thoughts such as this repeating in my head over and over and over. Soon I began to realize that as these thoughts repeated themselves, something in me was gradually changing. While my life was not much at this point, the fact that it was my last possession was reawakening something inside me that desperately wanted to survive. I knew the chances of that actually happening were slim, but it seemed better to at least try than to do nothing at all. As I rose to my feet, my body felt like it was waging war with my mind. One could only see the impossible, while the other refused to believe the impossible even existed. I reached for the control room on the hologram and then looked at the surrounding areas. Right now I appeared to be roughly half way back and towards the top of the ship. Not the best place for surviving a crash, but close, I figured. The bottom of the front of the ship would surely bear the brunt of the crash, as the engines were still functioning just enough to keep the Rogue Nexus oriented properly. That meant the farther back and higher up I was when the ship hit, the greater my chances were to live through it. Next I thought about what I would do to protect myself from the results of the impact. One thing I had learned from working in a retail store back in New York City was that a well-done package held its contents in suspended animation while being transported. That way no matter how badly the package itself was treated, everything inside would remain unharmed. If I was to actually live through the crash, I would need to be 'packaged up' somehow so that I wasn't shaken about too violently from the impact. These things in mind, I decided I would go for a corridor not far from the control room. It was a good two-thirds of the way back on the ship, and on the same level as I was on now. I also noticed a collection of crates that I prayed would be able to help me out. My decision was final; I pushed away the room in the hologram, and then spread my arms out, preparing to do the opposite of what I had done to start up the desk. I hadn't been told to do this when I was done, but it made sense...and to be honest, I just had this gut feeling that if I could guess right on the holographic desk, I'd guess right on what to do for survival as well. Call me superstitious. Or just plain foolish. 13

I closed my hands together, palms flat, and sure enough, all the rooms of the hologram pulled back together into a single model of the ship and remained in their place. I nodded to myself and then ran off for the corridor. There is something about true resolutioneven one that goes contrary to all oddsthat changes a person. All of a sudden I had the same mentality about me as I had not long before, crossing around the fan to get to the elevator that led to the control room. My mind was in a sort of 'zone', as we call it, and time and effort didn't really enter in to the equation. Everything in me was simply 'do', not 'think', and yet there appeared to be a surprising amount of thought behind my actions without me intentionally thinking through any of it. As I walked to my target corridor, I tried to keep an eye out along the way for anything that may have been useful. There wasn't much, but one thing did catch my eyeone thing that would make me a changed woman forever, and I could feel it in my gut as my hand reached out to wipe the dust away from it. Along one of the walls in a glass case was a pistol. With the dust out of the way, it read: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, BREAK GLASS. I looked at my hands and arms, and suddenly remembered all the glass pieces that already were sticking in them. I'd been so pressed for finding a way out of the crazy place that for a time, pain had not even really registered with my brain. Still, I wasn't about to go stupidly harming myself any more than was needed. My eye picked up something else just then as I still faced downward towards my arms. It finally occurred to me that I had been put in rather rugged boots. Without hesitation, I leaned back and delivered the best kick I could into the glass, breaking right through it and knocking the pistol out on the floor. Fortunately it seemed to have done the weapon no harm. To this day I don't really know what happened to me as the palm of my hand first felt that grip and my finger slid into the trigger. I had no intention of killing anyonein fact, I had no idea what I would even use the pistol for at allbut having it there in my possession solidified my attitude even more. Perhaps it was because this was the first possession I had acquired in what was now my world. I had only life, and a weapon. Nothing to lose, and my only goal was to survive. Now that I think about it...that actually sounds like a pretty potent mix. Nothing else caught my attention until I reached the corridor. My eyes seemed to be stuck in place looking at the weapon in my hand. It had never occurred to me that one day I might actually rely on a gun for my protection. Family and a house and money and insurance, perhaps, but a weapon like this? My fingers found themselves running along the pistol's silver barrel, feeling the smoothed out, angular design. Suddenly I couldn't help but imagine the barrel blowing back to the sound of a deafening blast as a deadly bullet flew out, hitting someone down the hallway from where I was standing, and knocking them to the floor. The thought startled me and halted the daydream, leaving an ugly, sinking feeling in my stomach. I checked to make sure the gun was on safety, and then slid it securely in one of the cargo pockets on my pants. It seemed a bit odd for a prisoner to have access to such large pockets, but I didn't have time to sort out 24th century customs for captives such as myself. Oh, there are the crates. I said aloud to myself. Well, Eve, this is it. My pounding heart took on the tone of an executioners drum as my time slowly ticked away. 14

Every last bit and then some of my faltering energy was put into doing what I could to create the best cushion possible in a corner of the corridor, so I wouldn't move enough to harm myself in the impact. The crates I had found were useful for weight, but little else. Every one was sealed up tightly and I had nothing with which to pry or cut them open. Not that I really expected something so heavy to be filled with pillows and blankets anyway, but it would have been nice to at least have more options. My first solution was developed all too quickly, and as I stood considering my method of organization I realized there was nothing stopping the crates from simply crushing me instead of protecting me. To make sure I really did it right, I moved them all back out from the corner and tried again, this time angling the corners so that the crates would simply jam up against each others' sides in the impact rather than slide up against me. Still, I knew it wasn't enough. Every surface in that corner was one hard metal or another, except for the crates, which appeared to be mostly wooden. I would need at least a little cushioning or else bones were going to be broken for sure. As there was not long enough for me to search around aimlessly, I made a break for the control room, hoping my time wouldn't run out until I got back. One of the screens in the control room revealed there was just short of 11 minutes left. Computer! That curious beep echoed through the ship. One last request: where can I find some blankets? Blankets for the crew are kept in every major sector of the ship in case of heating failure. You will find a stash of 15 blankets in a compartment built into the wall on your right. Bear in mind that 14 are intended to be used by control desk operators, and 1 is meant for the captain of the ship. If you have been assigned to a different sector, please take a blanket from that sector instead. If you... That's more than enough information, thank you. I interrupted, staring on my way towards the compartment. Of course, Miss Code. The name again made me catch myself pausing a moment wondering what on earth it had to do with me. It really had to wait though, even with things as confusing as they were. I found the blankets hidden in the wall (though three were missing), and ran back to the corridor being careful not to trip on the wayI could barely see around the load in my arms. In spite of my efforts, there came a corner which I hurried around, knowing the path to be clear...and yet next thing I knew, there I was on the floor, blankets in a messy heap in front of me. Involuntarily a cry of pain leaped from my throat and I had to stay in that position a moment for the throbbing to ease up a bit before arising once more and gathering the blankets back up. So strange! I said to myself as I worked my way back onto my feet. I thought this area was clear before when I...oh no.

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Just then my eyes came across another body sitting lifeless up against the wall. Blood streamed out from multiple places, and not a bit of it was dried. This was a recent kill. No sooner had my mind processed the meaning of all this than my heart skipped a beat and then resumed pulsing harder than it had been before as I automatically drew the pistol from my pocket and switched it off of safety. For a moment I forgot about the bodies and the blankets and my eyes darted all around the corridor searching for signs of a killer. I backed up against the wall, now more afraid than I had thought possible. It was a relief to feel the cold steel against my back instead of the body heat of a cold-blooded killerI was so jumpy by that point it would not have been a surprise to find the person responsible standing behind me. Whoever was here, they're gone now...you've got to get a move on, girl! There's not much time! My ears and eyes remained on full alert as I took one cautious step after another towards the pile of blankets. Crouching down to pick them up proved to be an excruciating experience, amplified now by the fear of someone watching me, waiting to strike. Resolute determination had overcome many known obstacles for me, but the one thing it had yet to face was the Unknown itself, and my vitality was waning because of it. I made my way to the crates, but the pistol remained in my hand this time. I wanted to be able to drop the blankets at any moment and fire a shot if necessary. I very nearly fired off a shot or two just to let the killer know I was armed and dangerous, but I decided against it in the hopes that I was as of yet still an unknown presence on this part of the ship. If that was true, then blowing my cover to try to scare off the enemy was the dumbest move I could possibly make. The blankets were all tossed in the corner were I would stand, and then I prepared to put in the final piece. There was one last crate that would seal the whole thing at the top of the stack, leaving me with no room to move in that corner. There was just one problem: the wooden crate was large and heavy, and had to be lifted up just above my head, which would have been difficult for me on a good day, not to mention now. I took a deep breath and slid the crate up against the wall, planning to slide it up the wall's surface and then move it over to the stack once I could get a hold on the base of the container. The process hurt so bad that my vision developed specks of black and I very nearly lost it again, but by some miracle I did not, and even managed to succeed in getting the crate to the edge of where it needed to be. Muscles still trembling from overexertion, I climbed up, dropped down inside the giant tube I had created, and then proceeded to arrange the blankets. The first two I wrapped around my shoulders so that most of the blanket remained in a tight bunch to the sides of my neck, and then I wrapped a third around both the pads and my neck, keeping my head from moving too much in any direction. The remaining blankets I did my best to pull up around joints and critical areas without any sight but the sensation left in my fingers. The end result was not necessarily comfortable, but I was satisfied it was as effective as possible, and so while doing my best not to disturb my work, I reached up and slid the crate fully into place, filling in the last major gap and sealing myself in as tightly as was possible. And then I waited. The prospect was astounding to me even then. I was really just waiting for the ship to crash. I 16

was just waiting to see if I might survive the most dangerous event my life had ever faced before. And it was dead silent. So quiet was the atmosphere that for a minute I wondered if I might actually wake up after all and find it all to have just been a dream. Come on...just get it over with. How long can five minutes last? I should have held my thoughts back, for there was a tiny opening right at my eye level where I could just peek out into the corridor beyond, and as I watched, the dream became a nightmare. The only sound echoing through that lonely ship was that of disengaging electrical circuits, and within an instant the source of the sound became clear: the lights were shutting off. One pair at a time, slowly but surely, like the devil himself approaching me, darkness gradually swirled through the ship, heading right in my direction. One pair of lights off, and then another pair, and then another. All shutting off, seemingly unstoppable, threatening my sanity. I had faced darkness once already, but that was when I could move through and thereby away from it...not when it came to meet and swallow me up. At long last that dreaded moment came when the pair of lights above my head took their turn in line and crackled before snapping straight to complete deadness. The sound of dying lights continued on down the other side of my corner, but the damage was done as far as my tiny line of vision was concerned. I could see nothingnothing at all. The thought of the ship crashing was beginning to look like a merciful act now. Keep it together...just keep it together, Eve. In five more minutes all this will be over. Just make it five more minutes. Just be... With a loud snap (which was almost startling enough to separate my skin and me) a very few dim red lights came on in place of the brighter white ones. Emergency power and lighting engaged. That deplorable monotone voice announced. Again everything went silent, or at least I assume it did. Knowing for certain is impossible, for by this point all I could personally hear was the sound of my own heart beating so severely my ears were even picking up on the furious pulsing. I was in agony. I was covered in sweat. I was about to go mad with fear. And on top of all that, I couldn't move. Claustrophobia had never been a struggle for me before, but it had already been an eternity, and still that blasted ship hadn't crashed! When is this going to end?! The voice in my head was interrupted by another noise that began far away, but seemed to draw a bit closer with time. It was the most inhuman of demonic cries, and yet I knew for certain it originated from a living being and not some malfunctioning part of the ship. This was the killer for sure...and it was not a person like me, whatever it was. 17

I was powerless to stop my mind from immediately turning back to memories of stories that spoke of mad scientists whose experiments resulted in hideous, deadly creatures that were once human; now forever entrapped within a mutated soul. Telling myself such things couldn't possibly existeven in the 24th century or whatever this wasdid little good, especially as the noise repeated itself and grew louder each time, bringing with it greater and greater certainty that I was a dead woman. Or perhaps I'm already dead, and I went...down. No, that's nonsense. Hell would be nothing like this. Keep yourself together, Eve! Oh...there it is again! To my horror this time the noise brought with it a silhouette in the dim red light, revealing the outline of something unlike any being I had ever seen before. To accurately describe it exceeds my command of the English language; without even getting the chance to see it in good lighting I could tell there was something other-worldly about this thing. The first thing that caught my attention (aside from the fact that this thing was big...but I had anticipated that much) was the presence of extra pairs of limbsone extra pair for the legs and one extra pair for the arms, to be exactand they had an insectlike quality to them. However, along the creatures back ran a mane, like that of a lion, only it was most definitely not made of hair, but instead something more solid and jagged. I couldn't really make out much else from the shadow, but I had no interest in beholding the fine details at this point. The very thought of what such a creature's face might look like caused me to shudder...and involuntarily let out a faint squeak. My rapidly beating heart nearly froze and my body stiffened as if in death the moment the noise escaped from my lips. The creature's head snapped towards me with impossible speed and precision, and I could feel its eyes boring into me from across the hallway. It growled an indescribable sound and crouched low to the ground as if to pounce on me. But it did not. Instead it inched its way in my direction, adding to my time crisis. Seconds felt like hours by this point, with no sign of letting up. The impact had to be soon. The pistol was still in my pocket, and if I attempted to use it I would have to completely destroy my setup for crash protection. But if I waited, and this thing got to me first, all my protection would be for nothing anyway. Yet what was I supposed to do, really? I was petrified, with little command over my body to do anything. The monster was getting closer still...only ten feet or so left to go. It began to slowly build up another roar; a roar so loud that within a few seconds it was almost deafening. Wait a second...that's not the beast roaring...that's the atmosphere! No sooner had I finished figuring it out than did the ship lurch with a ferocious strength, which was followed by turbulence more intense than I had thought possible. The beast began to trip and stumble, then slide away back to where it came from, while I remained reasonably in place behind my crate shield. But things were not to go so well for long. If the ship was tilting in that direction, that meant my cover could very possibly be simply pulled away. However, with the reintroduction of gravity to the equation, I could feel the place changing orientation frequently, so I hoped for the best. And on that note, at least I was able to feel what was going on and thereby mentally stabilize to a reasonable degree...if I hadn't have been, likely the dizziness would have caused my stomach to attempt 18

to empty itself once again. Then came something I truly had not even considered a possibility. With the addition of external gravity came the internal removal of it, or rather, the ship was descending so quickly now that everything on board gradually developed a false weightlessness, and I found myself rising off the floor as my crate shield loosened and threatened to make some movements of its own. Without interference, I think they would actually have remained in place decently well. Without interference. The Rogue Nexus went beyond groans and creaks now and began just plain ripping apart. Whether it was from differences in air pressure or from the damage already on the ship or a combination of the two I knew not, but I could hear all manner of horrible sounds that quickly alerted me to the fact that the thing wasn't going to hold. Had I closed my eyes I likely would have been inclined to believe I was in the midst of a hurricane. Objects were flying through the air at whirlwind speeds, with the chaos increasing by the moment. It was only a brief time before something large and heavy smashed up against one of the wooden crates, knocking the entire stack into a weightless frenzy. I tried to move out of the way so as not to be smashed up against the wall, but I was all wrapped up in blankets and could get nowhere fast. Not like I had a lot of practice in moving without gravity, either. I was hit by one thing or another multiple times as the ship continued to plummet, altering directions constantly so that the ceiling was the floor one minute and was the wall the next minute and the opposite wall the next. All the while I was drifting along as if in water, floating farther towards the back of the ship than I had yet been, kicking and struggling to loosen the ties I had put all over me, though I was too frantic and scared to coordinate my fingers as was required to undo all the work I had previously put into the padding. As I moved back the sound of howling wind became stronger and stronger, the air felt thinner and less breathable, and the light took on a dull saturation due to the high amounts of dust being kicked up everywhere. I tried again to do some kicking of my own, but this action proved counterproductive. My feet caught together amidst the blankets somehow and my neck support flipped around in my face so that I couldn't even see to correct the problem I was having down below (or was it below? I wasn't certain. My feet could be pointing straight up for all I knew!) Suddenly something big hit me, and hard. Were my vision not been impaired by the hopelessly entangled blankets I may have been able to avoid it, but with things as they were, I could only flail around in the air like an idiot while Physics pulled me around like a toy and scoffed at my helplessness. Then there was another impact, on my back this time. Frustrated and determined, I finally managed to get a hold of the blanket covering my face and rip it untied, letting the blasted thing flutter away in the air with some terrified satisfaction (apparently it is possible to have such an emotion). Immediately I wished I still couldn't see. The ship was about 100 feet away from me now, down and to my front, and I was free-falling outside of it! Of course I panicked and ruined my stability in the air, but luckily adrenaline took over and I somehow was able to straighten back out half by accident and keep oriented facing the ground, arms and legs spread out for balance. How I was able to remember that was the proper form I don't know, but whatever caused my brain to make the connection at that moment saved my life.

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The only noise I could hear about me was the sound of rushing wind. The metallic screams of the dying ship echoed ever more faintly in the distance, occasionally followed by deep booms as something or another caught fire and exploded. I hadn't thought of it until now, but it did make sense that the flames would spread slowly while in space, and now would flood the entire ship, what with all the oxygen to work with. Oxygen? That's right! There's oxygen in this place! I had seen the planet very clearly back in the control room on the Rogue Nexus and there was no mistake about it being someplace far, far away from earth. Yet...I could still breath! Perhaps that also meant the rest of the environment would be livable for a human being? I supposed I'd find out soon enough. It was night out, but by the light of the stars I could just make out that I was over water. A dark mass not far away I took to be land. Timidly at first, and then more confidently, I drew my arms and legs a bit inward and angled my body so that I would move in closer to the shore. From high up it may have appeared to not be all that far away, but I was always a terrible judge of distances, so I wanted to make certain that there wouldn't be a mile of water to swim through at the end of my descent. Just then the Rogue Nexus let out one final cry as it vanished into the black mass and crash landed somewhere near the edge of it (I didn't know if I could think of it as a beach or not yet, being unable to see what it was like). My turn was not far away, though I prayed I would miss anything dangerous like solid ground, or rocks that may have lain beneath the water's surface. The wind was beginning to hit me so rapidly that it stung all the little (and not so little) cuts and bruises on the front side of my body. Continuing to hold my arms and legs outward for balance required almost more self control than I could muster, but somehow I made it until nearly the end before my nerves got the better of me and I crumpled up and cannon-balled into the sea. The impact knocked all the breath from my lungs, as well as shot me down nearly to the sea's floor, with momentum working fiercely against my attempts to rise back up to the top. Plus there was the added shock that the 'water' was not really water at all, or at least not earth-water. What I found myself in was slightly thick, warm, and tasted like a bad herbal tea. And it whatever it was was drowning me. Everything in my worn and weak frame strove to swim to the top, but I felt only oppressed as if something was actively holding me under. Time was running out, but the harder I fought, the worse my situation became. As I fell lower and lower, the beams of starlight hitting the water's surface were beginning to fade out of sight, and so was my hope for survival. I would never learn what happened to me or how I ended up where I was or what the planet that I had fallen onto was like. I would never be buried or be given a funeral by friends and family. I was simply going to die, in the middle of nowhere, utterly alone, after fighting so hard and surviving through so much. My efforts, though valiant in my estimation, were not quite enough. And it was with this knowledge that I was going to exit life and leave it all behind. That is...if it weren't for a strange wave that rushed at me from below the water! This was not 20

just an under-water current, mind you; this was a real wave complete with foam and even the visual shape of a wave (due, I expected, to the thickness of the water). The first such wave was relatively weak and only propelled me a short distance, but I could sense that it was only the ripple that comes at the tip of something much larger. Consciousness was faltering, but I gave life one last chance before giving in and admitting defeat. Shortly thereafter, a larger wave did come along, and this time propelled me fast enough that I was able to orient my body into swimming position and go off of the momentum of the wave to bring me upwards. At long last! The sea's surface! I coughed and spluttered the moment the airthat wonderful, incredible airmade contact with my face. There was not enough time to get a full breath before I again dipped below the surface, but I was closer to land now, and so the sea was getting very shallow. When I sank back down, I was able to actually walk along the ground to get headed in the right direction before jumping back up to get another breath, this one more revitalizing than the last, though I still was in desperate need to get onto the shore very soon. Gosh darn it! Why can't I float in this stuff? Again I descended to the sea floor, and this time it was close enough to the surface that my eyes picked up on a bit of color revealed by the starlight. The entire place was covered with a green sediment not all that unlike sand to the touch, giving the seabed a fishtank-like appearance. I trudged through the stuff to the best of my ability, jumping up for air frequently, until finally I emerged, head fully above the water, feet standing on solid ground. For a few minutes I stayed right there just to catch my breath and cough up all of that bitter water I had inhaled. Once it seemed my muscles had regained enough strength to make one last effort for the day, I made my way up to the beach (which I now felt comfortable calling a beach, as it strangely was made up of very normal sand, much unlike the seabed) and began looking for shelter. I had done it! I had escaped from the dying ship and lived through the resulting crash, and now walked upon solid ground in an open world where I was no longer held captive by anything. Of course, in spite of all this it was hard to feel successful, given the circumstances. My mind was eager to ask hundreds of questions relating to my survival and what I would do with the rest of my life considering I was living three hundred years ahead of the time I was meant to exist in, but for the moment I pushed all those thoughts away and simply looked for a secluded place that would allow me to rest for a while. Though it was soaking wet, I pulled loose the single, slightly torn up blanket that had managed to stick with me this whole time and wrapped it about my shoulders. It couldn't offer much in the way of protection, but it was the best I could do. Sleep threatened to overtake me whether I was safe or not. I drearily wandered inland, climbing up a hill and then entering some sort of forest (which I determined the place to be only because it was so dark, not because I could actually see any trees) until I came across a pile of rubble that seemed to offer a decent amount of protection. Sounds of strange creatures in the night echoed all around me, seeming to be distant and unclear like a dream. Before I had even really made a final decision about whether I should stay here or move 21

on, I found myself laying on the ground and delighting in the feeling of relaxation. I knew I shouldn't be relaxing right then. Somethinganythingcould happen to me as I irresponsibly slept, but at that point it was too late to care. With one hand over the pistol in my pocket and the other holding the wet blanket wrapped around me, whether it was the wisest thing to do or not, I fell sound asleep from sheer exhaustion, leaving all the world to fade into dreams of my past life, as if I had simply been having a nightmare all along, and now I'd woken up and returned to the real world. It's a shame, really, that things were in truth quite the opposite. As the visions of my head clarified, I saw my apartment which I would never stay in again, filled with pictures of family whom I would never see again. I cooked a meal and served it to a friend whom I'd never get to confide in again. I fed my cat whom I would never feed again. I saw all my possessions which I would never possess again. I even went to work and waited on people in the checkout lane, doing something I would never do again, seeing people I would never see again. But most importantly, in spite of the typical complaints I had with life, I felt loveda feeling which I feared I would never have again. There was a strange irony to my situation that felt like death even though I was still breathing. I guess life before my adventure wasn't so bad after all. But there was no turning back. Never turning back, now.

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