Gone

The beginning

Now, all the way on the other side of the galaxy, in a prison on Mars, a male was sitting in a jail cell. He had a cigarette hanging from his thin, chapped lips. He had his icy blue eyes closed as he breathed the toxic death stick in, then out. He had long jet black hair, shadowing his left eye. He was pretty built, but was extremely lean. He had a scar over is right eye.

"Get up Prisoner." A gruff voice spoke out from the other side of the red laser bars. "He wants to see you."

The prisoner put out the cigarette and stood up, walking towards the bars. He opened his eyes. They seemed to have glowed within the dark cell. A soft smirk shown on the prisoners pale face.

"Oh? I shouldn't keep him waiting then." He spoke in a sarcastic tone of voice as the bars phased away.

The guard put a black collar on the boy and walked him down the hall. The boy seemed overly confident for some reason, as if nothing can or will keep him down. An everlasting smirk appeared on his pale pink lips as the two walked into an office.

Behind the desk as they walked in was a bearded man with broad shoulders and a large frown. He had dull brown eyes that were devoid of emotion.

"Prisoner 6178234. I need your help." The man spoke in a deep, demanding voice.

The prisoner raised his brow. "Awe come on, Billy Boy, I have a name ya know. I've been here for nearly 10 years." The boy replied in a cocky tone.

The bearded man pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a drawn out sigh. "Jackson, i need your help." He replied, obviously annoyed.

The prisoner, Jackson, grinned. "There we go. That wasn't so hard, now was it?" He smirked. "Now what is it this time? Can't find your Butterfinger?" He quipped.

The warden growled. "No. I just received a distress call. Seems like your kinda deal." He played the message.

"Mayday! Mayday! It's Spread! Everyone's infected! Please! Save me!" The transmission seemed to have cut out for a split second. A loud bang was suddenly heard. "O-oh god no! Oh please god help me. HELP ME!" The voice screamed in pain before the transmission cut off.

Jackson's eyes seemed to have darkened. "Infected hm?" he crossed his arms over his red jumpsuit. "What do you need me to do? And what's the price?" He asked.

"If you find out what happened to the crew and the ship, you'll be free to go without parole. And 5 million credits to your name." The man replied.

Jackson smirked. "5 million hm? I also want a non-traced gun. And as house in the Andromeda System."

The man nodded. "Consider it done." He tossed Jackson a medium sized handgun and two clips of ammo along with a holster.

Jackson smirked. "Now. Where's my ship?" He asked.