“Base, this is freighter E-37 “Ferdinand Foch”, lieutenant Ethan Farneu. Status report” the man in a dark green uniform of a prison officer, sitting at his console, said to his com-link.

“Proceed, lieutenant Farneu.” Digitally remastered voice of a staff member - probably a woman, speaking from one of the terminals in Darmstadt - resonated through the cabin only after few seconds. Normal thing when you consider the distance between their ship and Mother Earth.

“So far we did not register any problems that could affect freighter’s functionality. I repeat, we are fully operational. In thirty minutes we’ll reach the deceleration point. Our next report will be directly channeled to Mars. Do you copy?”

“Copy E-3709. What about your cargo?”

Ethan cursed inwardly. To hell with such cargo. He and his men were going to earn some nice bonus for volunteering on this mission, but now… And it certainly does not mean they were happy to be there.

“We had… a minor incident” the officer hesitated slightly “one of the prisoners woke up during last hour. I ordered to inject them all a double dose of soporifics, just in case. We are monitoring them non-stop.”

This time silence lasted longer. Much longer.

“According to a medical team, that was responsible for putting prisoners into coma, all of them were given sufficient amount of medicaments to last in that state for at least twenty four hours. That is more than enough. It is not possible for them to wake up.”

Well, surprise sweetheart, Ethan thought, appears nobody warned their “cargo” what was or wasn’t possible. Maybe then Steven wouldn’t have screamed like a teenage girl when that… thing had opened its eyes. Instead, lieutenant said:

“I will give my full report when we get back to Earth. Now the situation is under control. Farneu, out.”

 Only eight hours, lieutenant sighed to himself while standing up and walking down the narrow hall, eight more hours and this won’t be my problem anymore . At the same moment a wave of kinetic energy went through the hull of E-37; after another five minutes, lieutenant Ethan Farneu, along with his crew, was no more.

“Hey, Princess Snow is waking up. About time.” I heard distorted but still familiar voice speaking somewhere nearby.

I could feel that I was lying down on something cold, with my torso naked, eyes closed and pain… Oh, God. Either I had died and Lucifer himself was having fun with me last night or that was Mother of All Hangovers visiting me personally. What an honor, ma’am.

I tried to open my eyes. Then I tried again. And again. Finally, I was able to slightly rise my eyelids.

“Holy shit, Draco. If I promised you something last night then I was really drunk. Ya know, you’re a good friend and all, but you’re also not my type so…” I mumbled while looking at my brother’s smiling face. Draco bent over me and now our faces were only centimeters apart.

“Relax, little one, your virginity is safe.” Draco’s grin widened “But we may have a small problem here. Wanna take a look?”

“Uhh… I may need some help to get up.” This time my words sounded more natural. Whatever had caused my current state was slowly wearing off. Slowly.

I looked around. It took me some time. We were in a dark room, maybe 2x3 meters, with our only source of light hanging above our heads. Two long criss-crossing neon light tubes giving off this weak, somewhat hurting gleam. On my right side there was a simple plain-looking platform; I myself was probably lying on something similar. On top of it sat Draco.

Yeah, this guy could probably become a rock star, if his life went differently and, of course, if he wasn’t so deaf when it comes to rock music. Long black hair, handsome face with deep green eyes and devilish smile. Neither too short nor too tall, he resembled an angel. Fallen One. With only one pale scar, running from his right cheek down to his chin, disturbing the whole picture. Uhh, his father’s gift.

“Where the hell are we? Is that... is that Mars?” I was still confused, my head shaking.

“Hmm, doubt it. How much do you remember? What is your last memory?” Draco asked carefully.

“I don’t know. Some med staff… hospital, maybe?” I could feel something banging in my skull. Was that my pulse? “They were saying… something about relocating us. Then, there was this young doc, she said they’re gonna send us to Mars Colony and that they need to prepare us. Hah, can you believe that? Fucking Mars Colony.“ Focusing all available strength, I was finally able to sit up. “But after that… nothing.”

“It’s pretty much the same with me… Well, at least we know one thing. This time our brothers really pissed off some big shots. They wouldn’t risk relocating us without good reason.” Draco said without much concern “But that’s not really important right now. Look here.”

He didn’t even bother to help me and just walked off. Prick. After maybe ten seconds, when I was fairly sure that my legs are able to hold my weight, I followed him. It’s high time to find out where the hell are we.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here?” Both me and Draco were standing at the sealed hatch of our cell. That is the only way you could describe our cosy little nest. There was, of course, no control panel on our side, but whoever designed this room gave us a small glass window that had been inserted into the hatch, so they could observe us without the need for physical contact. Where we that scary? I mean, I know I’m not the supermodel-is-in-town kind of guy, but come on; they hurt my feelings.

What was really important, however, has been laying on the other side. The hallway illuminated only by the neon lamps in our cell seemed creepy. Especially, when you consider the decoration.

“Our watchman, I suppose” Draco whispered, looking at the corpse curled near the opposite wall.

It was hard to tell, from this distance, what caused his death, but…

“No blood, no visible wounds. He has something on his face, though… uh… looks like ecchymosis” I was in no way a doctor, but I’ve seen more than enough corpses in my life. In most cases I had no problem with identifying the cause of death. Lack of head or a big hole in the chest can give you some clues. “That would mean he probably suffocated. But how? Do you think our brothers…”

“Look at his uniform” Draco interrupted me. “Anything unusual?

“Let’s see” I tried to adjust my position. The pounding in my head must have stopped, as I could think a little bit easier. All I could see was a standard uniform of a prison guard I had seen thousand times before; I was unable to check out his pauldrons, but I think he was a sergeant, at least. No visible weapon. Hmm, and what’s that?

There was a small blue patch on the deadman’s chest, almost invisible from where I was standing, broidered with four white letters. I knew what they stood for. ISOB - International Space Operations Bureau. The only Earthen organization capable of creating and sending crewed spaceships, the one responsible for creating human colony on Mars. Pioneers, heroes etc. etc… But they weren’t responsible for Mars Colony itself. Only transportation and deliveries. And that means… that means…

“We’re not on Mars. We are still on a spaceship. On some fucking boat.” I whispered, barely able to believe my own words.

“And apparently something went really wrong” my brother added “He’s been laying here for some time, before I even woke up. That was around half an hour ago. Probably couple of hours since he’d died. And yet, nobody came here to clear this mess. Only possible explanation I can think of, is that his buddies are in no better shape than him. So I repeat: we may have a small problem here… What should we do now Ares?”