Stumbling after Airah, my mind was trying to catch up to the events. The thought that I had murdered three security-officers was looping through my head, keeping tact with the pounding of my heart. A small part of my mind wanted to put the head into the sand, simply denying reality and hoping to wake up from the nightmare but I couldn’t simply give up. Focusing on the warmth of the hand pulling me helped, feeling Airah’s smooth hands. She had such silky skin, it made me wonder just how it felt at different places.

“Twitch?” a voice pushed into the fog I was shrouded in and when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I partially got back into awareness, realising that we were about to leave the dark alleyway.

“Twitch, why don’t you give me the pistol?” a voice asked. It was Airah’s voice but what pistol? Looking down, I realised that I was still holding the needle-pistol that I had just used to murder three man. Murder three police-officers.

“Twitch, stay with me, please. I need you right now.” Airah pleaded, the notion that she needed me putting a bit of steel into my spine. She needed me and I would have her back. That was important.

“I’ve got it.” I mumbled, bending down to put the pistol back into the holster. For a second, the image of the three guys, lying in their blood flashed before my eyes and I felt the bile rise to my throat but forced myself to push it back down. Airah pulled me back up, steadying me and taking one of my arms, pulling it around her shoulders and wrapping one of hers around me, in an almost protective gesture.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry. Just focus on walking, I’ve got you.” she assured me and I let my mind focus on the pleasant smell she was giving off. It wasn’t just her perfume, there was something else, an undertone that was purely her. It smelled good.

I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where we were and how we got here. There seemed to be a bit of time missing from my mind and somehow, I was now sitting next to Airah, leaning against her. We were on public transport and, from the looks of it, the one going towards the space-port.

“Where are we going?” I asked, forcing my mind to work through the fog that tried to engulf me again.

“Twitch, you are in a bit of shock. Just focus on me and it’ll be okay.” Airah whispered and I felt a sudden surge of anger flaring up. Who was she to treat me like a child.

“Tell me!” a harsh voice snarled and after a moment, I realised it had been mine.

“The Spaceport. We need to get off Celraph-4, or both of us will be in deep trouble. I promised you, I’ll take care of you. Just, please, keep calm for now, I’ll let you yell at me later, as long as you want.” she explained, her voice gentle, almost pleading. Somehow, it seemed to soothe the flame, allowing it to collapse into something different and I felt tears well up on my face. She was right. I had murdered three security-officers and my life was over. I wouldn’t graduate the Academy, I would never be a Starfighter-Pilot. Hell, I would be lucky if I wouldn’t get locked up for the rest of my natural life, the Federation still had the death penalty on the books and murdering security-forces could get you there, depending on circumstances.

A gentle, warm hand was caressing my face, stroking away the tears, even as they were constantly replenished from my eyes and I leaned into the warmth, of the hand, of the arm I was feeling around me.

“Twitch, I need you to move again.” Airah whispered and I felt myself pushed back to my feet. I managed to set one foot in front of the other, walking with Airah, when I heard another voice, this one male and concerned.

“Is she alright?” the unknown voice asked and I felt Airah stop, causing me to stop walking and force myself back into awareness, at least a bit. A middle-aged man, dressed in civilian clothes was looking at us, mainly me, with concern in his eyes. Why was he concerned about a murderer?

“She will be. Her boyfriend broke up with her and she had a little too much to drink in response. She just needs to get back to the ship and sleep it off.” Airah’s confident voice replied. Mentioning a ship made me shake with a new bout of tears, as I realised that I might never get back into space, would never ride the void again.

“Broken heart, eh? Condolences, young lady, I’m sure it seems like the end of the world right now, but tomorrow will look a lot brighter.” he told me, trying to project comfort. Not that it helped but I heard Airah thank him and gently pull me along.

I’m reasonably certain that we kept walking for a few more minutes before Airah stopped again, this time near the space-port, and made sure that I was aware enough to stand on my own. Part of me wanted to rebel against her, treating me like I wasn’t in control of my faculties but the sad reality was, with the way I was drifting in and out of awareness, it was necessary.

But the anger sparked something in me, reminding me that I wasn’t a snivelling civilian, that I was a soldier. I had done the right thing, I might even convince myself of that at some point, and saved my comrade. That small glimmer of pride stayed smoldering in my gut, prodding me to focus on the here and now, I could have my breakdown later. For now, I had to keep it together. And part of that, was finding out why Airah had opened the trunk of a nearby ground-transport and lifting two duffel-bags out of it. Pushing some steel into my spine, I forced myself to walk over,

“What are those? And who do they belong to?” I asked, causing her to give me a short, measuring look.

“Our gear. You told me that you had some stuff you needed from our room, don’t you remember?” Airah asked and I was drawing a blank. It must have shown, because she continued.

“You were, maybe still are, in shock and drifting a little. Doesn’t matter, we need to keep moving, I have no idea how long we have.” she added and I managed to push the questions springing to mind away, grab one of the duffle bags and put it on my shoulder.

Again, she gave me a searching look and I realised she was considering whether I would remain upright without her. Or maybe if she would be able to handle both bags and me, if I continued to drift. It also made me realise that I had been pathetic and held her back.

“I can walk.” I assured her, the small ember of pride turning a little larger, as I forced myself to look forward, not back.

“Good.” she nodded, shouldering the other bag, before gesturing for me to follow. “If we don’t use the recent break-up that was drowned in alcohol as an excuse, wipe your face, you might attract attention otherwise.” she told me, returning my attempt at professionalism with more respect that it might deserve. Still, she also handed me a wet-wipe, to clean my face.

“Follow me.” she told me, once the wet-wipe was dark with make-up.

I started after her, my mind slowly getting back to capacity and raising questions that I didn’t have answers for. The most important, obviously, what was going on. But just because it was the most important didn’t mean it was the most pressing. That would be, what was the next step.

When I asked Airah that, she gestured to the Spaceport we were approaching. “Now, we get off planet. I’ll answer your questions but we are on a timer and I really don’t want to say somethings where we might be overheard. Look like the ace-pilot that you are and we will be alright.” she assured me, the small ember of pride glowing a little at the compliment.

We walked to a side-door, obviously for employes and Airah pulled out a small tablet, doing something with it and the door clicked open, allowing us entry. More questions, but for now, they had to wait.

The hallways of the spaceport were brightly lit, despite the late time and Airah seemed to know where we were going. I merely had to follow, trying my best to look as if I belonged.

Luckily, we didn’t have to go far, Airah stopped at one of the many bay-doors, doing something with the small tablet again, making it open for us.

“Can you pre-flight for me?” she asked, handing me a maintenance-tablet and training took over. I was a pilot and I’d damn well do my job.

“Yes, Ma’am.” I assured her, walking past her, somewhat savouring the look on her face.

The ship in the hangar looked like the civilian version of a frigate, a small and fast courier, designed to carry small loads, below a ton, between systems at extreme speeds. Most of them were used to carry data but they could do more. This one seemed to have markings of the premier Federation Delivery Service, the Federal Express.

My recent experience with the Stingray-frigate helped me to orient myself and, while Airah did something else, I made sure the craft was in flying condition.

“Pilot, we have a delivery to make. Are we ready to fly?” Airah asked, playing the same game I had started earlier.

“Yes, Ma’am. she looks good.” I replied and Airah opened the lock, allowing us entry into the craft itself. We hurried up the ramp and once we were inside, Airah let out a long sigh of relief.

“Are you feeling able to fly?” Airah asked, after looking me over once again.

“Yes, I can fly.” I instantly answered, giving the only reply a pilot with a pulse would give.

“Good. I’m afraid I’ll have to be the official pilot but I’d like you to strap in anyway, just in case.” she told me and led me into the cockpit and I understood what she meant. There were two pilot-seats, both with the head-gear to connect to a pilot’s headware. The gear helped to make sure that the signals didn’t get mixed up with two people using headware in a small space, allowing for the most efficient piloting of small craft.

Airah stepped to one of the seats, typing in a password of some sort and using her tablet to confirm it, before stepping back and gesturing for me to sit.

“You can log in. I’ll file our flight-plan and we can get out of here.” she paused for a second before continuing, “Once we are in the air, I’ll begin to answer your questions.” she added, with some fear in her voice.

Pushing away my questions once more, I strapped into the seat, lowering the headgear and began the login process. It was an open one, Airah had apparently set the gear up in such a way that it would work with the next person putting it on, taking away a lot of the normal procedure. Next to me, Airah started communication with flight-control, giving her name as Mairead Sierra, piloting Federal Express Courier C4-363282.

The name made me wonder if Airah was just a fake-name as well. And, again, what was going on.

Moments later, the flight-plan was accepted and Airah triggered the hangar-doors, allowing us out, into the sky.

Focusing on what I was good at, what I had wanted to do for most of my life, I let the small spaceship take to the sky, the sheer joy of flying allowing me to push away a lot of the questions I had earlier.