Jeb woke again with a headache pounding his brains in, this time it wasn't from a lack of salt, but more from a space mine going off on the side of the ship. At least that's what was being repeated in his head until he finally answered.

  “Ok, ok. I got it. We're not dead. So, chill out.” But he soon found out that he might as well be. Jeb, the prisoner has the cockpit.

  Jeb ran to the door as soon as Jeebz let him know. The door, of course, was locked.

  The intercom rang through. “I'm sorry, but I think this is going to be for the best.” It was the criminal's voice.

  “Damn it! I know this must be hard for you...” Jeb couldn't think of his name... Did he even know it ever?

  “Gabin, the names Gabin.”

  “Okay Gabin, I know this must be hard for you. Going to a PP. But this ain't good, it's just going to increase your sentence even longer.” Jeb was still holding his head from the pain. He found some blood coming from his ear. Diagnotics Jeebz.

  Your inner ear has been ruptured. It will heal soon, your white blood cells are already in the area.

  “There is no 'longer' sentence. Once you go to a PP, you don't leave. It's not just a Prison Planet, but a forgetting ground. But either way, that's not what I mean.”

  Ok, he wasn't just a criminal, he was crazy. “Gabin, you are going to take a stolen ship into a prison system. You realize that? There is no way. Jeebz has locked you out of the controls by now.”

  That's not... exactly, accurate, Jeb. The hesitation in the A.I. personality added unneeded humor at that moment.

  Remind me to deactivate your humor processor. Jeb whispered. What do you mean! That's not accurate?

  He seems to have manually hacked the console, likely while the ship was rebooting after the mine. He’s flying manually. At least for the most part. We are close enough to the system that he can visually fly there with the aid of basic nav screens, changing course would be difficult in manual mode at these speeds. But he hasn't tried to do that either. He didn't even try to get into the computer to alter the coordinates.

  Jeb paused for a bit, the headache seeming to subside under the amount of confusion. Not trying to escape?

  “Gabin. What are you doing?” He asked gently.

  “Remember my name, Jeb. I'm Gabin, the one that gave you your freedom back.”

  And with that, they passed the mindfield just on the outside of Azibo's moon. An electric field that operated similarly to the transference units, but huge.

  Jeb, we have a problem. We are not gonna be able to land... properly. The space brakes are on, slowing us down, but not enough to land right. We're going to crash, and the emergency beacon has been deactivated. Jeebz reported.

  Jeb looked around for a way to get in the door. But it had been sealed and meant for anyone not to get through, without the pilot letting them through. It was fully mechanical. No computer attached to it. And Gabin had only left only a vegetable husk behind, which was draped over the edge of the pilot seat.

  “Ok, crash landing. I've had plenty of those...” He thought for a bit. But there were no safe spaces to be when crash landing, except maybe in the cockpit.

  He ran into the Captain's cabin and looked at the bed. What kind of glass is used in the hibernation chamber?

  Class Three blast armor.

  Good. ETA to impact?

  Thirty-seven minutes, twelve seconds.

  Jeb ran through the ship looking for anything to get through to the cock pit. He had some time for hope. But fifteen minutes of failure drowned it all.

  He ran into the crew quarters and ripped the blankets and pillows off the two beds and ran back in the Captain's cabin. He smushed the blankets all around him and then the pillows.

  Jeb knew the space brakes were only meant to slow a vessel within a solar system—just enough drag to assist with descent if the pilot was incapacitated and the ship was near a planetary body. Not designed for full recovery, just survival. But with the onboard computer fried and no other automated systems to coordinate reentry, the brakes were all that stood between him and a crater. They didn’t stop the crash—but they made it survivable, rather than a planetary extinction event.

  He ran to the cockpit door once more, the nav screen displaying warnings about immenant crater. They were coming in too direct. He looked at the navigation spheres, floating just inches above the arms of the chair, Gabin's limp hands might as well be a lightyear away.

  "Shit." He whispered to himself, and went back to the hibernation chamber, making sure he was surrounded. He wanted to be comfortable when he collided with the planet, he wouldn't want to be interrupted by a lumpy pillow.

  Lower the glass. He ordered Jeebz.

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  The liquid glass began forming its webbing and then solidified into a clear cylinder around him.

  Gimme an injection that will keep me from flexing up.

  The needle pierced the blankets and entered his skin just in time. He felt the mush of entering atmosphere. Hopefully he wasn't going too fast. It seemed instant incineration from hitting the atmosphere was a good sign.

  Soon, he felt his muscles relax beyond his control. Sadly, this also meant his bowels. Which was fine, as they were in no position to hold anything anyway.

  From the corners of the room a foam was sprayed into the room. Impact Gel! Some relief.

  Jeebz began a countdown in Jeb's head. He closed his eyes and all he could see were the control spheres. If Gabin had just given them a small twitch the angle would have been better. He begged the computer to be wrong.

  10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

  Vibration came first, and then the heat. The wall connected to the hull was beginning to glow. If he'd been outside the chamber, he knew he'd probably been fried. Then everything went black.

  Rumors and myth described his current status, an awareness of being aware even though unconscious. The first tangible perception of Jeb's body was pain. The next thing he felt was a buzzing in his ear, like an insect annoying his slumber. But it was Jeebz, telling Jeb to wake up. Which finally worked.

  Jeb, we have one hour to get out of the ship before it melts down. Wake up Jeb. Wake up Jeb. On a loop in his ear.

  With a groan Jeb began to move. Forgetting he was wrapped in blankets, he squirmed around in the chamber. Freeing himself from the makeshift cushions he was able to finally see the wreckage.

  The wall on his right was simply gone. He could see a blue sky above and sand below, maybe about ten feet down, and dunes for as far as he could see. To the left there was, well, nothing was as it once was. The walls were no longer walls. The chair was no longer a chair, the desk was mangled and had merged with the wall.

  "Open." He ordered the glass. Nothing.

  Power is off. Jeebz explained. Do you know why the power is off? Because there is no ship.

  Power was off. Obviously.

  With a few a lot of grunting and five minutes later, the glass chamber was pushed off of the bed and tipped out the edge of the ship, out onto the sand. He felt the gravity—heavy! Maybe twice what he was used to.

  Besides being badly bruised, his body seemed to be fine.

  I'm going to need maps. Jeb thought to Jeebz.

  I'm sorry, Jeb. Gabin removed them.

  Jeb shook his head in annoyance.

  He looked through the remains of the room, grabbed his sword and his blaster locked underside of the bed and strapped them on, sword on his back and the blaster on his hip.

  Going through the rest of the ship, he grabbed a few other items, mostly food.

  After a few more minutes, he decided to take some of the medical shots. With a few blaster fires, he opened up the container that had been crunched shut. The impact of the laser blaster shattered the metal around it. Most of the injections were gone, but some of them were still good.

  Since he was going to be running, he took one for hydration, and one to keep his body from cramping.

  After one more sweep and with about forty-five minutes left before meltdown of the core, he jumped out onto the sand, avoiding the glass. That's when he saw the rest of the wreckage... out across the landscape.

  As he moved further away, he encountered more debris from the ship. The scattered wreckage around him was far more extensive than what remained intact. When he noticed the cockpit, broken and separated from the rest of the ship, he felt relieved he hadn't been in there.

  And then it dawned on him. There was no transference machine here.

  Fear. Terror. Despair. Emotions racked through him. He felt his heart rate begin to soar. His hands began to shake.

  This is strange... I'm experiencing these emotions, but the body has a physical reaction to these emotions. I've never had that before, even with a Sac.

  Barely a pause, but it was there before Jeebz replied, Unknown bio-reactions.

  Jeb focused on his breathing. In and out for several minutes until his heart slowed down and the shaking slowed.

  Jeebz kept prodding him to keep moving, the winds could shift and radiation could begin to fall in his direction. Minutes later he looked back, he hadn't made it very far, maybe twenty miles, but he couldn't see the ship, the dunes were many.

  “Is this going to be far enough?” He asked Jeebz.

  “Yes, this should be fine. Now bury your body under the sand. The flash may be too much for your Sac's eyes.”

  Jeb quickly spent the next three minutes burrowing into the dunes base as fast as he could. He got about four feet in, when he heard the roar. The flash was still bright burrowed in this far. But it was for a mere split second. The roar created a wind. The ground started to vibrate as the shock wave came. Sand flew like shrapnel over his dune.

  The dune moved and he began to get buried even more. He started to back his way out. The idea that no transference machine around caused him to flail about, wildly swinging backward as though swimming, until finally he was out.

  Above him, in the sky, a mushroom cloud. The dune had been reshaped as well. It was now wider and less tall.

  The wind began to go in the opposite direction of the initial blast, and a few minutes later, it was all calm again, except for the smoke cloud in the sky.

  Climbing up to the top of the tallest nearby dunes, the sight was shaking. A gigantic crater came out ten miles. Another ten miles, up to nearly his dune started out flat and slowly became more and more hills once again. Though the rest of the dunes for another five miles were still smoother than the rest of the desert.

  Jeb was happy to be alive. Another emotion. But, it was odd. He couldn't put his finger on it, as though it had no location. Despite Jeebz' warnings and protests, Jeb sat down and pondered that feeling for the next two hours.

  As the sun set and the cold set in, he realized he had no blanket. With only his atmo suit, he decided to walk to increase his circulation and stay warm. Combined with the atmo suit, it should be enough to keep him comfortable.

  After several hours of travel, his AI analyzed the surroundings and adjusted his course. In the distance, he spotted the glow of a large bonfire. After a moment of contemplation about what he might find on this prison planet, he decided to head toward the light.

  He found that it was easy to either walk on the ridge lines of the dunes, or to walk in between the swells of the dunes. After falling many times, he decided to take the slightly longer path of walking in between the dunes.

  Many hours later, and many thoughts of the trip, Gabin and what had transpired he finally got close enough to get some recon on the area.

  He found it was easy to either walk on the ridge lines of the dunes or between the swells. After falling many times, he decided to take the slightly longer path between the dunes.

  Many hours and many thoughts later—about the trip, Gabin, and what had transpired—he finally got close enough to recon the area. With Jeebz's help, he saw a small band of about twelve people sitting around the fire, singing something that at least had a melody.

  I don't see any weapons. Then he saw the glint of steel. Never mind, I see some kind of blade. What records do we have on the prisoners on a PP?

  Not much, it's mostly confidential. They come here for treason and are sentenced for many lifetimes.

  Jeb thought for a bit and then asked his next question.

  What records are there of people leaving a PP?

  None.

  Great.