First Contact: Another Story


 * Log #: 1
 * Date/Time: Unknown
 * Location: Somewhere in the cosmos
 * My name is Jessica Fletcher. I was, until about half an hour ago, the princess and next heir of the planet Hyzaryn. The whole place is probably dying at the moment, possibly even already dead, but I'm as happy as anything to be leaving it that way. I'm currently hurtling through the empty vacuum of space at several times the speed of light in a very small ship meant for emergency use only. Sounds like anyone's idea of a good time, eh? This log is the first of the likely hundreds more I will write to journal any, if at all, events that will take place during this endeavor. Mostly, though, it'll just be used as a way of keeping me sane for the next indefinite number of months it takes for me to reach my destination. If you, computer, had a brain and a set of vocal chords you would probably ask me what my destination was. Well, since I literally have nothing else to do other than sleep, breathe, circulate and adapt to the feeling of artificial gravity until you decide to give me my dinner, I will tell you. I am trying to reach a planet 56.8 light years south of here called Earth.
 * I've studied that place since I was able to read complete sentences and always fantasized about visiting it, always believing somewhere in the dusty corners of my head that I may have earthling blood in me, but I had never, not in my most twisted and unconventional thoughts that come into my head when I try to sleep, ever imagined that I may have been born there. Well, it turns out I was. And I didn't have a human for a great-great-grand second uncle twice-removed as I had always thought. I had one for a father. Have one, actually, as far as I'm aware he's still alive. And that's the entire reason I'm in this tin can of a space ship in the first place. I need to find him, he and my brother are the only family I've got left. Oh, I never mentioned I had a brother, did I? Yeah, I was just as shocked as you are. Still am, actually. One minute I was walking around, minding my own business, trying my hardest not to get burned to death by an angry armada, then BAM! My mother tells me with her final breath that I have a twin brother that I was separated from at birth. Yeah, not exactly something you experience every day of your life. Then again, it's clear from here on out my life will be far from normal. When you're a member of an endangered species, your life can never be normal. It's not even remotely possible. Not that my life was normal before, of course, but hopefully this life-changing alteration will be for the better. Don't see how it couldn't as a matter of fact. Anything has to be better than the daily-torture-of-a-life I'm leaving behind.
 * Ah, it would seem you, computer, have finally been kind enough to provide me with chow. So I guess this is Jessie Fletcher signing off.
 * Here's to a better future in another world.
 * Here's to a better future in another world.

I scooted the hover chair away from the keyboard and heaved a heavy sigh, making my curly green cowlick flutter out of my face. The concentrated oxygen felt a little strange in my lungs, but it was better than nothing. As I began to unenthusiastically consume my dehydrated meal, I closed my eyes and went over in my head everything that had happened in the last few hours. It was mostly a confused, terrifying blur (I figure most attacks from alien invaders are that way) but the most vivid parts were burned into my head like a hot brand. I remembered waking up to the sound of explosions and a person screaming. I remembered tripping over a body, a dead body who I didn’t have time to identify, as I ran for my life from my room. I remembered nearly getting trampled to death by a throng of panicked people. I remembered seeing the bullies, the same bullies who had tried to drown me when I was seven, cowering in the corner of a destroyed building, crying like little kids. But more than anything, I remembered seeing my mom die. As much as I knew she hated me and as hard as I tried not to hate her back, I am never going to get the image out of my head of my mom, normally the epitome of intimidation and ferocity, lying half-dead on the ground, struggling with her last breath to speak to me. I shuddered a little at the memory as I bit down on a piece of dried fruit.

I told myself to forget about it. All that mattered now was what she told me: My dad’s name is Lawrence Fletcher, my brother’s is Ferdinand. They live somewhere on the planet Earth. I’m wasn’t sure what their exact location was, but the ship’s GPS was pinpointed to it. I was homeward bound. That thought helped me sleep that night, even though curling up against the wall on an unheated cushion isn’t exactly what I would consider comfortable.


 * To be continued...