Outside the Milky Way Galaxy.
500 years from now.
“You ever get lonely, Ship?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question, Captain. Can you be more specific?”
“Well uh, being alone; the only one of your kind around. Don’t you wish—Fuck it. Nah. Never mind."
The Captain shakes his head and pushes away from the window he was leaning on.
"You know what’s weird? How absolutely lonely you can get out in space.”
“I’m sorry, Captain. Is there something you would like me to do?”
“Sorry? No, you’re not. If you aren’t affected by this absolute isolation, then you certainty don’t feel sorrow.”
“…Captain, I don’t—“
“Save it, Ship." The Captain pauses, feels bad. "I’m sorry for yelling at you. Initiate landing sequence Alpha.”
“Aye, Captain. What is our destination?”
“We’ve arrived. Land us at the nearest planet.”
“Roger, we’re approaching Cleyreon City, on the North Eastern Hemisphere of the planet Aoqiwh. Atmosphere is gaseous and cloudy, non sustainable for human existence.”
“What is anymore?”
“Our mission, Captain?”
“Fuel, supplies, …any other necessity I deem necessary to continue to perform our sworn duty.”
Through a perpetually cloudy and overcast horizon imbued with a sort of permanent sunset, the ship descends onto a dusty orange launch pad that billows out tuffs of thick, smoky dust as it lands and exhales with a wispy mechanical sigh.
The Captain exits out of the craft wearing a metallicy-looking suit equipped with a breathing apparatus. He walks cautiously toward a weathered and rusty-looking iron hatch. The cloudy horizon periodically disperses, revealing fleeting glimpses of similar looking hatches. The Captain opens and enters his hatch. He closes it behind him and is momentarily enveloped in darkness. We hear a heavy latch being moved and suddenly the interior is filled with deep, pure spectrum light. The Captain blinks, shakes his head and squints as he walks down the bright corridor toward an airlock. He enters and hits the one palm-sized blue button on the transparent-glassed wall. Suddenly, the walls turn to opaque white. A warm, female voice speaks.
“We have scanned you and your DNA indicates you are human. Welcome to Cleyreon City. If you prefer another language, please indicate the one you desire at anytime.”
“So far, so good.”
“Please state your name, origin, and purpose of visit.”
“I originate from Earth by way of Mars. My name is Captain Hardy and I am here to party.”
“Access granted. Welcome back, Captain Hardy.”
“Heh. Thank you, Computer.”
The Captain opens the door and enters. From inside music blares. The lighting is dim and there are scattered humans/humanoids, but mostly aliens and a few mixes. The Captain sits down, while avoiding eye contact and orders a drink. As the Captain takes off his breathing parts, he purposefully deactivates a glowing indicator on his wrist. The bartender, or whatever he's called here, brings a few canister-like things and the Captain goes to work unscrewing and mixing them. The Captain mentions something to him about refueling and restocking the ship. This isn't just a bar, it's an outpost. The Captain says a few more things and the bartender nods then walks off. The Captain closes his eye, tilts back and exhales. After a pause, he bursts back up suddenly and shouts out, "And SMOKES!" Then goes back to relaxing. Too heavily, and is startled by the touch of someone poking his shoulder. The Captain grabs the arm quickly but there is no danger. Her, or its name is Erin.
"You're looking great, sweetheart." The Captain looks back at his unfinished drink and then back to her.
"Thanks. Upgrade. You look like shit."
"That's funny because I feel incredible."
"Really?"
The Captain forgets sarcasm rarely works on robots.
"Heh. No."
"Still going by Captain Hardy here, are we?"
"'Why waste a good fake name,' my grandfather always said."
"Well, are you going to offer me a drink?"
"No. Why would I do that?"
"I don't know, your type usually does. I think it's an ingrained behavior."
"Nope. Not today anyway."
"Then shall we?"
"I'm in no rush." The Captain pauses and looks directly at her eyes. "Damn, you--"
"Look familiar, I know. This is how this place works, remember?"
"No, I don't. Please enlighten me."
"I look like this because we scanned you and this was the ideal imagine that you found most attractive."
"I see. I had forgotten that."
"No you didn't."
"If you can read my mind, then do it."
The android looks dead as she stares at the Captain, if only for a few seconds. She stands up and directs the Captain to a new portion of the bar. As they walk together, Erin speaks.
"I cannot read your mind. I cannot predict the future or tell you the past."
"What if I said I think you can."
"It wouldn't be an accurate statement. But I feel sorry for you. You desire to treat me like a girl you once knew. And according to your log, it has been this way for the last eight years."
"You're good, robot. Manipulating me like that. Almost worked."
The Captain stops walking and grabs her arm. He tucks what looks like a ray-gun against her side."Yeah, you got something right: you can't predict the future. Nobody can do that. But if you tell me again that you can't tell me the past... well then I'm going to have to kill you, kill your creator, kill your creator's pets and everything else I fucking see in between."
"...So, I will take you to see him?"
"Now we're talking."
The barkeep is standing behind them, awkwardly pretending not to notice any trouble. "Uh, did you still want the tobacco?"
The Captain looks at him through the corner of his eye, almost angry. "Yeah. Put 'em on the table."
