Prologue
22 Sep 2016Simona Fujimori
22nd September 3302, Federal Space
I'm waiting at the starport, in a bar filled with a cloud of cigarette smoke. I can barely see through it. On stage, a woman in a red dress sings this song:
Sip my drink till the ice hits my lip. This is the kind of place I'm familiar with, but for some reason not the one I want to be in. It's not the noise, the people or the smoke. Perhaps it's that strange sensation you get the first time you are so far away from home that, while exciting, everything feels so threatening. The song still plays in the background and it feels just right.
Someone once said "Your regrets aren't what you did, but what you didn't do. So, take every opportunity". Well, here I am: in the middle of Federal space, taking one I simply couldn't let pass. It's called the STS Blossom Star, an old Sidewinder Mk I model usually loaned to fresh graduates awarded with academic honors. A nice gesture from an organization trying to improve their influence over the region. I haven't seen it with my own eyes, yet I'm sure it's going to be a marvelous first ship.
My glass is empty. I shouldn't order a second round, but hell... I'm not supposed to be drinking anyway. Bartender...
