Journey to Space

Some people find themselves wanting something else from life. Sometimes more relaxation, others more excitement. For some kids, they cannot wait to grow up. Be an adult and enjoy the freedom to do what they please. Often this comes with the freedom to choose responsibility or fall behind on life. For one person, whom the story that follows centers on, they choose to not compromise and take life by the horns when given an opportunity. Most do not get that chance, but for this person, they ran with it. The story focuses on what one would do when given a chance to do something else.


Author, Chandler

The laser pistols filled the air around Jefferson’s head. He ducked behind the metal storage container to avoid getting his head melted through. He raised his own pistol and wildly fired two shots. This had not gone to plan at all. It was supposed to be a simple get in and get out mission. Grab the crates of weapons, load it on the jump ship and off to space-neverland without a hitch. 

Unfortunately for Jefferson, things went sideways and those that were running the weapons were there, contrary to what intel suggested. From what he saw, it was dozens on one, with him being the one, as per a normal days work. Did his superiors have issues with his run and gun style? Yes. Did it get results? 


He had to get out of this spot. Eyeing a collection of old fuel drums near the hallway opening, he had a wild idea. The hanger the entire scene was taking place in, was a large rectangle. There were four entrances and exits: one large one in the back. One on either side, and a maintenance door on the far right. Jefferson was near the far left, which he cleared.  The plan? Fire a few shots, blow the barrels by the main entrance, turn fire on the other entrance on the right, hop into the jumpship and blast his way out of the station. 

Easy. He got up, fired his pistol to the barrels. Blasted the containers to explode which was an epic explosion of fire. It was a dangerous plan, risking punching a hole into the walls and into the vacuum of space beyond. But that is why he was paid the biggest amount of credits, despite criticism of his methods. 

Off he went to the middle of the floor, firing this way and that, nailing the weapons dealers here and there. Fire was spreading across the floor, finding other flammable shipments. If this was the last hurrah for Jefferson, then at least it was in an explosion of awesomeness, one which people of all worlds would sing about star cycles to come. A smuggler jumped him from the side, wrestling for the laser pistol. They exchanged shoves and punches, and a few shots were sent into the ceiling. Holding the smugglers’ arm steady for a second, and decked him with a right hook. Using their shoulder as a shield he blocked a shot and fired at the other shooter. Spot on. 

He ran back and slid under an exploding container as he made his way to the jumpship. Seeing a canister of something that looked flammable, he lobbed it into the fray and fired. Bingo. An explosion gave him a chance to hop in the cockpit and fire up the engines. 

Turning and firing away, it was another victory as he sped off. And…

“Jefferson! The answer to x + 2 = 7?” Ms. Schmidt asked. 

Jefferson sighed. Being a 10 year old on Earth was boring sometimes.