Captain Rodriquez examined the corpse lying comfortable in the bunk. The body was completely preserved and it was easy to see the old man had lived out his life and simply died when it was time. A half full beer stood unfinished on his night stand and holo’s of his life history, family and friends looped on his entertainment center.

The ship was still functioning as it should and in surprisingly good condition for a vessel of this age. The original Factory installed O2 generator was still in place. These Fire Flies hadn’t been in operation since back in 100 and had been retired from even the academies by 107 AE.

“Cap’n, I have something here you should see.”

“What is it Ensign?”

“An entry in the commander’s logs sir, I think this is the beginning of the explanation on finding this old bird. He was beginning to write a book.”

The Captain took the tablet and scanned to the section highlighted by the Ensign.

Commander’s notes, June 14 / 76 AE:

Life on the experimental FF class ship is as good as can be when traveling alone. I have all the luxuries of new technology to keep me occupied and entertained through inter stellar travel, but I have also got time on my hands to try to feed my muse.

I have long wanted to write novels about my adventures, and now, alone, it seems the prime time to start. Below, please see my first draft of my first chapter of the first novel in a long and productive career as an adventure writer:

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The FF series was a sweet ride. In particularly the ff27454. This machine was by far the quickest, most nimble ship I had ever piloted. The two major innovations that made this ship so sweet, was the CANS, (Celestial Avoidance Navigation System), and the ICE (Inertia Compensation Engine).

These two systems in union made the Fire Fly class the first choice of the Pony Express.

We were the lifeline to the colonies and the control we had combined to the light streaming speed, made us the quickest thing known to mankind. Not just in point to point measurement, but in avoidance and pinpoint navigation measured in feet and inches at 50 times light speed.

We were the cutting edge technology of 76 AE.

President Sherman had championed our team when it became evident Sol was burning out and home would be no more, a century ago.

President Abdullah Jones had solidified our position the year after the nova that cleaned out the Milky Way and everything in it. He had also been the brains behind naming our new found class M’s after the old countries, territories and destinations on Earth as memorials to the home we could never go back to.

The combination of the facts above brings me to this trip from my home on Iceland with the inaugural run of the 27454. A load of O2 generators secured in my hold, I was off to Tahiti with supplies to help lift the O2 level and let the homesteaders ease out of the suits for longer periods of time.

I sat back from my day dreaming and launched the views screen to see what I looked like to the universe. Several different views were programmed and I chose them one at a time.

From the front chase view, I could see the nose of my ship and on zoom I could see my smiling mug shining back at me through the fore glass. Switching to the aft chase, I did indeed look like a fire fly. I noted as my trajectory automatically changed drastically from point to point, oblivious to my bodily fluids which had no idea the inertia that should be killing me was removed from my experience.

Bored with this toy I began tracing my course on the navigator to see how long before my next stop. I found I would be in Canada in a couple days and looked forward to the Moose Head Pub and the sweet bartender Monica who took it as a personal challenge to find ways for me to retire my command and settle down to a sedentary existence raising kids and mining diamonds. Who would have thought their abundance in Canada would lead to the safest fuel Man had ever found. No emissions, no heat, no combustion, no intricate multi systemed engine.

Monica came back to view in my mind’s eye, and the temptation was real, but I had grinned, not real enough to knock me out of my commander’s chair.

Visions of Monica were beginning to get x-rated when low beeps drug me once again back to the console.

A warning of an unnatural body brought me to full attention and I sat forward scanning my screens and indicators with a fine toothed comb. The beeping grew in volume and speed, but nothing else showed a thing.

With blinding speed, an immense halo of sorts appeared from no where and I was through the gaping mouth before I could react.

I hit full stop.

Rotating I headed back the way I came to find the halo had become solid. I had a 73 kilometer disc in front of me where a moment ago there was but a ring.

I programmed a circumnavigational course to get a look at if from all angles and started moving starboard at investigative speed. Just beyond the edge of the disc, I was placed unceremoniously on the floor while my course was violently adjusted for me to keep me from going around the disc. My Cans and ICE were off by default at this speed. On regaining my seat, I flipped them on and decided to try the port side of the disc. All this time, I had every scan known to a fire fly in progress. I saw no evidence of anything but the disc.

This time, I was gently turned by my force field as though I had met a solid object, yet nothing showed. A couple more tries and my conditioning led me to my original course. 206 kilometers later I found I was indeed a firefly in a bottle.

I keyed my mike and hailed Iceland. I didn’t even get static. I checked the Computer communications. I was informed by the system, that we were all alone.

OK, story over. This isn’t fun any more.

Refer to my logs for details of my situation.

Dusty Joe,

Commander, ff27454

Pony Express unit.

“Ensign, bring this log to my quarters when we get back to the ship. Guard it with your life. I have some reading to do.”

“Yes Sir”

Captain Rodriquez turned and headed for the propulsion room, but turned to catch the Ensign as he bent to pack the log into his case.

“Ensign, I want every man jack back on the Goose before a half hour is up. Get Pilovitch to Com me. He is probably old enough to figure out these controls and park this craft in the flight deck.”

“Yes Sir.”

“If you talk to him before I do, tell him to keep an eye out for mason jars”