Soft jazz, music to calm the mind and warm the soul that’s paired perfectly with a glass of smooth bourbon. Listened to by only those with more refined tastes. It’s a sound that can lull a person into their mind and leave them vulnerable to their thoughts. Music that cradles you, coddles you, and keeps you company even when you sit at an empty bar all by yourself. Aside from the bartender, of course. But, even they don’t bother you. So long as you’re drinking and paying, they rarely do.

John took a sip from his cup, the syrup colored liquor sliding down his throat in a practice swallow. He didn’t flinch from the burn nor did his face contort. All he did was sigh out the heat and place the glass gently down onto the polished wooden bar. The ice inside the glass rattled. Now empty and without liquid, the noise was much louder than any of the other times. Without missing a beat, the bartender reached for the bottle and walked over to refill the cup. John slid the glass over. The empty cup stopped just barely out of his fingertips and he watched as the thick liquid of memory numbing alcohol poured in.

The bartender nudged the cup back to his hand and returned to his station at the center of the bar. Without blinking, the bartender tapped on a digital screen beneath the counter, adding the glass to the man’s tab. Silent, John raised the glass to his lips for another sip. He shut his eyes and let his foggy mind roll, his thoughts loose and his worries gone. Here, he was free from the stress of his life. Here, he was at peace.

But, peace was not something that was eternal.

The sound of heels clicking slowly closed in on the door to the bar. The ‘tender glanced in the direction of the sound and, in anticipation of another customer, plucked a glass from beneath the bar to wipe clean with a towel. John’s eyes barely split apart as he stared across the bar, his gaze seemingly unfocused. The door opened a moment later and a woman clad in soft red entered the bar. A wall of stairs behind her revealed that they were underground.

The bartender gave a smile, his silver facial hair turning upwards as the forest of hair shifted. “Good evening, madam.” He greeted the new face with a polite call, welcoming her to the small hideaway.

The woman returned the smile, her glossy red lipstick shining in the golden light radiating from behind the bar. It was the only source of light in these place. “Hello.” She strolled over to the bar, her low heels carrying her to the plush of one of the stools. She left a two seat gap between her and John. She also sat her purse and black coat down on the seat to her right, away from John.

“I’ll have a glass of Merlic, please.” She asked with a soft hum to her voice. It was a lower, more sultry voice. One that revealed plenty of years behind her. Years that didn’t show on her face but certainly showed on her hips.

The bartender smiled and set the wine glass in front of her. “Of course.” He turned on his heels and stepped across the bar, walking midway towards John before reaching to the very top shelf. He plucked a bottle of red wine from the shelf and wrenched out the cork with a firm pull. His white gloved hands manipulated the bottle with ease as he smoothly filled the glass to half.

“Thank you, dear.” She said with a smile. She then set a small card on the bar. “I’ll pay in the local credits, please.”

“Of course.” The bartender plugged the bottle and then took the card. He returned the bottle to the shelf before tapping on the digital register’s screen to perform the transaction. With a wave of the card, the credits were transferred and the payment confirmed. He then returned the card to the madam and took his spot between his patrons. Without much to do, he minded his time by quietly cleaning more glasses.

After a few sips of her drink, the woman set her glass down and her rosy lips turned upwards. Then, her soft, red-hooded eyelids blinked twice as her gorgeous fire red irises turned towards the only other man in the room. Her long, cream colored legs pressed together before her left slid over the top of her right. The knee-high stockings, held up by garters, rustled faintly.

“You’re a hard man to find, John.” She spoke just loud enough for her voice to carry over the music. Her soft tone was almost more majestic than any singer John had heard that evening.

John let out a sigh and returned his cup to the bar, having been interrupted from his drink. “Only if I want to be, and it depends on who’s looking.” With a twist of his fingers, John twirled his drink in the glass. “Can I help you?”

“That depends. Are you available?” The woman turned away from John and looked down at her freshly manicured hands. Her nails were trimmed short and looked to be styled rather plainly. Yet their color was beautiful. Much like the rest of her, they were colored red. Subtle, however. None of the red on her was aggressive or truly eye-catching, aside from her eyes.

John took a tactical pause in the conversation, by force, and sipped from his glass. “Who’s asking?” He stared off into space, uninterested with the new occupant of his peaceful space.

“Someone who is willing to pay to fix your ship if you take the job.” The woman turned her hand over, as if checking under her nails for imperfections. Imperfections she already knew weren’t there. Her raised foot began to bounce lazily, the plush of her thigh making the action easy.

John glanced towards the bartender. The men exchanged a look. The bartender pressed his lips together, frowned, and shrugged. John huffed and set down his glass. “Well, I assume this someone already knows the extent of the damage, and this someone also probably knows that will be a high price to pay.”

The woman nodded, her smile unbroken. “Yes to both.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a very small disk. One with a holographic projector in the middle. She set it down on the bar just in front of her.

The bartender took the disk and then set it down in front of John. John didn’t move to touch it.

“It’s a simple job.” She mused before taking another sip of her wine.

John scoffed. “It’s never a simple job, lady.”

She giggled and rolled her eyes. “Simple in directions. Not in execution. Otherwise, we’d do it ourselves.”

“And not hire someone like me.” John added, his eyes staring down at the disk.

“Correct. And not hire someone like you.” She nodded along. “You aren’t the best transporter nor are you the quickest, the safest, or the smartest. Traits that would have made you more expensive, if I may add.”

“So you picked me because I’m cheap?” John rumbled, his eyes finally turning towards the vixen.

She wagged a finger at him. “No. You were picked because you can hide, Mr. John.” Her fingers lowered to her wine glass, wrapping around its slim base and cradling the basin of red. “For that, we are paying you a premium.”

John’s eyes narrowed as he watched the woman sip from her glass. Her lipstick didn’t leave a mark behind on the cup, oddly enough. Must have been some really high quality stuff. From the way her hair was neatly fluffed on her shoulders, how her face looked smooth and almost doll like, town to her very feet, she was a crown jewel of a woman. High quality and cut from an exquisite piece of ruby. Someone who didn’t belong on this planet, let alone in this system.

Which meant she had traveled very far to get here, to find him, and to give him this offer. Her words weren’t filler. Someone had an actual offer and an actual job to give him.

Sating his curiosity, John reached forward and pinched the holodisk, triggering its lights and queueing the internal system to activate. In front of him, the lights created a hologram of his ship, The New Atlantis. A twin engine, light speed hopper made originally for long distance patrols by the Sol Council’s prized Robin Squadron. The Ryker IV. It was decommissioned after being replaced by the much more reliable Gemini III.

Seeing John activate the disk, the woman cleared her throat to speak. The bartender took that as a subtle cue and made his way over to the door to lock it. “As I mentioned, your ship’s repairs will be paid for and parts will be supplied to replace the damage you took from your last job. We are willing to include updated engines, a new jump drive, and you will also be provided with an ECM shield unit that should give you an edge if you get jumped during your trip.”

As she spoke, John’s fingers thumbed over the display. His eyes took in the information on the various parts that would be transferred to him, but more specifically at the price tags. “That’s one hell of an investment into someone like me, lady.” John tapped on the ECM module specifically. It wasn’t new but it was military-grade. Something very few people had access to and would keep him more protected than a standard civilian module. They must really want this package delivered in one piece.

“It is,” she agreed. “It’s also insurance. The client would rather you not up and disappear after the package is placed on board.”

John rolled his eyes and swallowed another sigh with a mouthful of bourbon. The parts were less an investment and more a way to put him into debt. Security, per say. Perform the job as detailed, deliver the package as requested, or John and his ship would be hunted and scrapped. What a way to negotiate.

“You will be rewarded on top of that as well, so don’t worry.” The woman added after a moment of quiet, giggling as she also took a sip from her drink.

“What’s the job?” John tapped on the screen in front of him to progress to the next set of data. The lights flickered, revealing a map. Three maps, actually. One showing John’s current system and the desired route out of it, the interstellar road map that would take him to the target system, then the star system he was going to.

His eyes froze as he stared at the destination. More specifically, the name.

Before the woman could speak, John’s mouth moved. “You’re fucking kidding me…”

“We want you to deliver a package to the destination, John.” She spoke without a single shift in her tone. She twirled her glass, the liquid swirling in front of her fiery eyes.

“You want me to go there…?” He muttered. He sat up and placed his forearms on the bar, supporting his weight as he continued to stare at the destination.

“Yes. And we need it done quietly.”

After a pause, she set down her glass. “We want you to go home, John. To Earth.”

As if reacting to the sound of the planet’s name, the disk flickered and automatically transitioned to the next data set. A spinning, live model of the familiar planet appeared in front of John’s eyes. A planet that had long been abandoned due to it becoming uninhabitable. A planet that was now a part of an abandoned system with a dying star and a graveyard of ships. Only random tourists and savangers went there, all just to find an empty and barren system with nothing to offer by a sense of nostalgia for those who were able to pay for Self Transmutation.

John’s jaw clenched together as he stared at the model of the watery world. Its ice caps had long melted and much of the ground had been plunged under water. Craters dotted the surface from space ship bombardments and there were several gouges in its crust from where heavy scars remained. All remnants of a battle that had sealed the planet’s fate, along with the rest of the system’s.

Snapping himself out of his daze, John spoke up again. “Why?”

The woman’s soft smile broadened and her eyes sharpened.

“That, my dear John, is classified.”