To an onlooker, he would have made for a peculiar sight. Legs and arms pumping full force, Beamer firmly grasped in one hand. Behind him, a brown satchel flying in the wind, wrapping around his neck with surprising weight, all the while wearing an oversized security uniform.

It was only at about halfway there he realized that the uniform might give the wrong impression. Frantic, he did the only thing that came to mind. While still running full bore, he started pulling it off, over and above his head. It got caught on the strap of the satchel, and he almost tripped, but nimble feet caught him before he fell. Eventually, he overcame the shirt in his epic struggle and flung it to the side, now running shirtless towards the ship.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, they still hadn't seen him. The last of the containers were packed up and the crew was moving inside. There were only a few stragglers left. The last ship off Tella was about to go.

“Wait!” He yelled, louder than he'd ever imagined possible. “For all that is holy, please wait!” They didn't hear him. The last few were talking now, moving inside.

Somehow, he found another gear, the pain in his knee temporarily forgotten. “Wait!”

He was closer now, but the ship was starting, the hum of its engine drowning out his voice. He wasn't going to be in time. “Wait!” He hollered one last time, pouring every ounce of will he had into the shout.

And then, miraculously, someone heard him. A woman, with graying auburn hair turned to see him- shirtless, covered in sweat, and armed. “Please wait!” He yelled, tears of desperation and relief vanishing into the wind.

She did wait. Her and one other, the only two people still outside the ship, watched him approach.

Eventually, he made it. Huffing air like he'd never done before; he hunched in front of two people. The first was the woman who heard him. She had an aging, stern face, topped with auburn hair. She wore crisp clothes, well-made and denoting some authority. To her right was a man, similarly aged, though perhaps a tad younger. His hair was gray and cut nearly as straight as his jaw.

“Who are you?” The woman asked, clearly amused.

“Dalur, we don't have time for this...” The man said. His eyes flicked upward to Tella's new moon.

Dalur was a name Vas recognized. A smuggler, a bastard, and a hardass, according to Sri, but he couldn't exactly be picky. She was also looking upwards at what was once the mansion but seemed much less concerned about it than her companion. “I told you, not even Talian could haul a ship down after that display, nor would he care to. We have time.” She looked at Vas with a cold smile. “Besides, I'm a little curious.”

She knew who Talian was? That surprised Vas, but he supposed it wasn't that shocking. The man himself had told him he'd been a Peacekeeper for well over twenty years and had traveled to dozens of planets. His reputation must have been noteworthy, though Vas had never heard of him before this.

The man sighed. “Fine. Who are you kid?” He spoke fast, clearly still very eager to get going.

Still breathing heavily, he answered. “Vas.” He pushed out through heavy breaths.

“Ever flown crew on a ship before... Vas?”

Instinctively, Vas almost lied, before meeting Dalur's eyes and deciding it was probably a bad idea. “Nope, but I will do anything, learn anything.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Dalur frowned. “I don't like dead weight... but.” She looked at the gun in his hand. “That's a pretty nice Beamer, where'd you get it?”

“Found it, but it's yours if you let me on the ship. I just need a ride.” He held it up to her, but she didn't grab it.

“It's not that nice.” She responded.

The man frowned. “Dalur, what are we doing?”

She ignored him. “What's in the satchel?”

“Nothing.” He answered quickly, before immediately regretting it. “Nothing worthwhile.”

Too late, he had piqued her curiosity. “Worth is subjective, my young friend. What is it?” She smiled.

Again, the man broke in. “Dalur, this is not...”

This time, she snapped. “Shut up Daro. Get on the ship if you’re in such a hurry. I'll handle this.”

He obeyed, albeit haughtily, and Dalur once again focused her attention on Vas. She had yellow eyes, he noticed, almost like a snake. “What's in the satchel, Vas?”

“A book.” He answered.

That caught her off-guard. “What's a book?”

He reached down into the satchel and pulled the book out. Even as desperate as he was, he wouldn't trade it, even for safe passage. There was something to it. The something he had always wanted. He just knew it. No, he would not trade it, but he could perhaps persuade her it was boring.

He opened it, flipping through the pages and showing the empty white paper. “See,” He said. “Nothing. Just something my dad used to collect.” She grabbed it from his hands, almost prompting him to snatch it back instinctively. Thankfully, he hesitated, watching with bated breath as she flipped through the pages herself from cover to cover and raised it to the sky. Then, thankfully, her interest finally died. He felt like celebrating, before remembering he still needed to get on the ship.

“Now, the book might not be worth anything,” He said as she handed it back, now bored. “But the gun is, and I'll work. There's no better worker than a desperate one.” He sounded like a salesman, trying to pawn off a broken cooler.

To his surprise, she actually seemed to consider. “Why do you want to get off the planet so bad?” She gestured around. This will all die down, you know?”

He straightened his shoulders. He needed to give her something believable, something almost true. “Because I was here five years ago. I saw what they did to the rebels who remained. They'll hunt me down like a dog.” It was the truth, just not the whole truth. “As I said, I'm desperate.”

She sighed. “Damn my bleeding heart. Second rebel I've let aboard. I'll take that gun and you'll work for half-wage.” She started walking towards the ship. “Welcome aboard the Junk Dog.” She paused. “Oh, and put on a shirt.”

------

A minute later, they were off the ground, Vas watching from a port side window as they left the city behind. The Skygate opened without issue, and for the first time in nine years, he left Tella.

At first, he looked downward, towards the dome that had been his home. It was so small from up high, a tiny blip on an otherwise horribly inhospitable planet, the prison he'd grown to know so well.

Then, he looked up, and he saw it. In the distance, six planets between, Yariur, a shining yellow sun. A real sun. He felt tears running down his cheeks, half from emotion and half from the glare. He quickly wiped them away before any of the other crew saw.

At his side, he held the book. Empty, for now, but there was something to it, a destiny to be unlocked.

This was the start of something, a whole new life, a whole new destiny.