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Departure

"Survey Outpost Gamma Seven, This is the System Reboot, requesting permission to dock and bring aboard supplies. We brought cake!" The cheery voice of the relay officer immediately lifted Aaron's spirits, and he shoved himself off the wall and quickly drifted over to the relay system.

Slinging on the headset, he said, "But I thought the cake was a lie. Are you lying to me, Johnnie boy?"

Laughing in the background, along with cries of "Classic!" and "Now you're thinking with portals!", and John, the relay officer, trying to sound even slightly serious and failing. "Alright A-Aron, You've had your fun. Now where's the commander?"

Ignoring the question, Aaron said, "I remember one of you lot talking about it, and it sounded right up my alley. Had to really dig in the entertainment files to find it, and the graphics are pitiful, but it was a blast. I beat them both in a day."

"Yes, yes, show us old-timers up while you're at it. Now seriously, where's the commander."

Aaron bit his lip as he looked around. "You know as much as I do, to tell the truth. The commander and two EVA specialists went out in the shuttle about two weeks ago and haven't been back. The rest of the crew has kind of subsided into peaceful anarchy- I know, the oxymoron to end all oxymorons- and I'm one of the only ones doing anything anymore. I've figured out how to activate the docking sequence, though, and the outpost's computer can take care of the rest. Here goes."

He turned on the large touchscreen to the left of him, brushed off the fine dusting of debris that hovered on or near it and flicked over to the SafTDock app. Touching it and flipping through its expanded pages, he found the button that said Initiate Dock and pressed it. Loud whirring and hissing ensued as the airlock next to him shuddered and he watched through the viewscreen as a thick metal chute extended, air leaking from several badly-repaired micrometeorite holes and tubes writhing in their sleeves. It juddered to a stop about twelve yards from the outpost and the small supply carrier, shooting clear jets of gas intermittently from the myriad ports in its hull, maneuvered its way next to the chute and latched onto it. He felt the slight change in orbit and then felt the computer correct it, although he didn't know it. All he knew was that his best friends were coming out of the airlock, handling boxes and laughing at a joke someone made. The 16-year-old boy unconsciously ran his fingers through his half-inch crew cut, as if it were long hair, then noticed what he was doing and hurriedly stopped. He pushed off with his feet and drifted on his back, hands behind his head, towards them, grinning idiotically. They saw him coming and some shouted joyously, the others let go of the crates they were carrying, letting them drift away, and pulled Aaron over, slapped him on the back and gave him noogies. Three of the four other crewmembers floated sleepily out of their cabins, and greeted the crew of the System Reboot noncommittally. The other, a bald man who looked to be in his early forties, didn't greet them at all, and hauled himself along by the grips on the walls towards the generators. His name was Leo, and it was his job to manage them; he checked on them every morning. He had become more and more reclusive after the Commander had disappeared.

    John pulled Aaron over and into a bear hug. "How'ya been, boy! Long time no see! We brought you all some food and gear to keep ya goin'."

    He leaned back, holding onto his shoulders, and said, "Not that it sounds like you all will be staying out here for long. Once Central hears that you lot are sans Commander, they'll most likely scrap this floating pile of junk after pulling you guys out. They've been talking about how there's nothing whatsoever on this arm of the galaxy for quite a long time now."

    Aaron sucked in a breath in surprise. He had expected a new Commander, not for this outpost to be scrapped. For most of his

(imprisonment)