1 Pilot: First Expedition

The year is 2421 and the Solar Federation, after brutal deliberation, has passed questionable legislation allowing teenagers to be employed as 'Freerunners.' Whilst a complete victory for the Freerunner corporations allowing them to cut costs on wages by employing solely teenagers many in the Federation would complain that, due to the nature of their work, employing these young people as Freerunners would essentially be... child abuse.

See, Freerunners were once the most respected group of workers in the galaxy only slightly behind the High Admirals battling on the frontier. Freerunners lived treacherous and dangerous lives. Bravely sacrificing their own wellbeing to deliver vital goods, explore uncharted systems and uphold lines of communications. Children would say in classes.

"I want to be a Freerunner!"

In their ignorant youth they wouldn't think about the savage space pirates, dangerous hyperlanes and deadly void spawn that hunted down these brave Freerunner souls. All they could think of was the infinite frontier that was space and the many adventures that could be had and that is the exact worldview our heroes the 'Star Monkeys' had tragically developed.

Orbiting above earth just above where Australia would be sat a small spaceship. An Amazon-7. A dirty old rust bucket with a single window at the front, a gigantic radar dish on its roof and a single useless laser gun on its right side. Tragically, the meant that the ship could not shoot anything to the left of it. Or behind. Or even sometimes in front. In most of the tests the laser didn't even shoot at all.

Inside the ship there was a cockpit with four chairs and in three of them sat a teenager with hopeful eyes and hungry tummies.

The first was Quinton. A tall, skinny and freckled faced white boy. His hair parted neatly in the center and his sneakers were a faded red. He had come up with the whole operation. It was the summer holidays! Two months without school meant they would likely be completely useless - playing video games and accomplishing absolutely nothing. Classic teenager stuff. Thus, when Quinton proposed the idea of making some cash whilst also being 'heroes of the federation' the other two didn't hesitate to take the job. Plus, no good video games had been released since at least 2080 so it was an easy decision.

Next was Aadam. A short and skinny Asian boy. Except you shouldn't point out his lack of height lest you get attacked by a surprise metal pole and his heritage is something he never really understood. Since World War 4 Asia had become a bit of a hot mess so he simply identified with the old nation of the Philippines because he liked the nickname 'Pinoy'. He was the oldest of the trio and pretended to be mature at times.

Finally was Sa'ab. He doesn't know the origin of his name either. Sa'ab was tall but slightly shorter than Quinton. Out of the three he looked the most physically fit. Actually built with a decent amount of muscle and fists made for punching. However, realistically he would still get the shit beaten out of him by any space pirate. Sa'ab was a fan of many things but his greatest passion was his space board which he brought everywhere. Even though he wasn't that good with it. Yet.

Now with the crew properly introduced our saga can finally begin.

All three of them stared out the glass of the cockpit. Staring into the deep dark void of space. In its beauty filled with stars and mysteries. Their ship, a crappy Amazon-7, was christened the 'Star Monkey' by its most unvenerable crew. Chosen because it sounded 'funny'. The corporation providing their ship, the Dunce-Fisher Company, was a medium sized maritime delivery company that was one of the first to jump onto the new Federation legislation. Their entire fleet of Freerunners had now been replaced with inexperienced, naïve but hopeful teenagers.

Our 'Star Monkeys' were childhood friends who knew each other since they were about six or seven years old and found this job to be the perfect excuse for them to mess around with each other.

"This is awesome! We get to explore the galaxy and get paid for it? I can't believe it. We're Freerunners now! Heroes!" Aadam chuckled happily from his seat.

"Yeah and they're trusting us to do our first delivery without a supervisor! What could go wrong!" Quinton smiled.

"How much are we getting paid though?" Sa'ab asked with a finger on his chin. Quinton looked in Sa'ab's direction in bewilderment for a hot second before pulling out a smartphone from his coat pocket. A few seconds of scrolling later Quinton's lit up.

"$60 an hour..." Quinton muttered in disbelief. The other two boys couldn't believe it. $60? Sa'ab gulped an audible gulp before coughing manically seemingly choking himself on his own saliva.

"ONLY $60?" Aadam yelled.

Now it is the year 2421. Maybe 400 years ago $60 would seem like a lot but due to 400 years of constant inflation $60 was about enough to buy a hamburger. Not even a meal just the hamburger on its own.

"That's literally only enough to buy a Mcdonalds Hamburger," Sa'ab muttered restating what was already explained. Interestingly enough Mcdonalds had survived with almost the same business model for almost 450 years except now they held one of the largest military fleets in the Solar sector. They called them McBattleships and they were to scare away any spare pirates looking for a free meal.

"This is literally the largest waste of time ever then. We could just get jobs at a fish n chip shop and get paid five times as much," Aadam complained.

"Well we can't back out now the Terms and Conditions statement literally says that they have the legal right to hunt down and kill our families and pet dogs if we back out of the mission once we're in the spaceship," Quinton muttered.

"Don't tell me we accepted it..." Aadam groaned.

"We signed the waiver,"

"Fuck,"

"We can always quit after the mission," Quinton proposed. Sa'ab and Aadam looked at each other at nodded.

"Right what's the plan?" Sa'ab asked.

Quinton proceeded to brief them on the job. Whilst they were sent the briefings before they launched neither Sa'ab or Aadam bothered to read it. It was a simple mission. In and out without any hassle. In the storage bay of the 'Star Monkey' were several boxes of unknown goods which were 'confidential' according to corporate. These boxes would be flown to New Washington, one of the bigger cities on mars, to a local pacifist hippie club. Upon delivery of the cargo the trio could fly back to Earth and collect their payment. The run should take about three hours so each were expected about $180 at the end of the shift. Which is almost enough for the bus ticket home. It was described as a Class 'F' run. The easiest sort. There was no way they could screw it up. No way.

"Alright sounds good so who's the captain?" Sa'ab asked.

"What?" Quinton asked with disappointed surprise.

"Every ship needs a captain. No! An admiral. I'll be the admiral," Sa'ab chuckled to himself.

"What no there's no admirals or captains. Just - here let me have the wheel," Quinton fumbled stepping across several open wires and almost tripping on Sa'ab's half eaten egg salad sandwich.

"Wait a second. I think there's something wrong can you guys check the engine real quick?" Sa'ab muttered looking curiously at the flashy control panel. Quinton sighed.

"Damn okay, We'll give it a look,"

Quinton and Aadam rose from their seat and walked out of the cockpit towards a small hallway at the back of the ship. On the right was the lavatory. It had a sliding door and the paint had peeled off revealing a gross rusted steel underneath. On the left were two bunkbeds with standard issue corporate blankets. They were itchy enough to inflict annoying cuts. Oddly enough a ship made for four only had two beds.

At the end of the ship was a metal blast door. On the other side was the storage room with the package and the engine room. Aadam grabbed the handle before being stopped by Quinton. At the same time they remembered that they weren't allowed to see what was at the back of the ship and proceeded to look at each other pessimistically. How were they to check the engine if they couldn't look at the package?

"Uh, Sa'ab we have a problem," Aadam muttered.

"That's actually Admiral Sa'ab for your information!" He replied heroically. Sa'ab slammed a big green button on the control panel instantly shutting a blast door with a terrifying metal thud separating the hallway from the cockpit. Quinton ran towards the door slamming his fists on it and sighed a long sigh. Aadam more confused than he had ever been in his life decided now was a good time to go to the toilet.

"Sa'ab open the door man. Why are you like this?" Quinton groaned. Quinton and Aadam were now locked on the other side of the spaceship. Sa'ab had successfully tricked them into giving him full control of the ship. Whilst Quinton was very obviously unamused Aadam flushed the toilet.

"What's going on?" Aadam muttered whilst drying his washed hands on his company uniform.

"Sa'ab locked us out of the cockpit. I can feel the ship moving too. This man is literally driving us to Mars and he's never done a gravity assist around the moon before," Quinton muttered unenthusiastically.

"What do we do now then?

"Well we can wait to die in the cold vast darkness of space or Sa'ab can give the freaking ship back!" Quinton yelled starting at an acceptable volume at first before bursting out into a rage.

"Sucked in!" Sa'ab yelled into the ship's intercom blasting his breathing and voice into the trapped boys in the hallway. The speakers were so outdated that his voice was more similar to the screams of a dying cat than Sa'ab's speaking voice.

"Oh I have an idea!" Aadam whispered. Quinton's eyes lit up in hopes of a decent plan.

"We could go into the engine room and turn off the engine!" Aadam suggested.

"We can't the package is in there,"

"Oh true,"

Quinton and Aadam sat on the bottom bunkbed and deliberated on a new plan.

"Okay I have a better plan," Aadam suggested again. Quinton looked up but with noticeably less hopeful eyes. Aadam leaned into his ear and whispered his idea. Quinton chuckled.

Quinton and Aadam stood in front of the blast door to the cockpit ready for battle. Quinton raised his arms in an attack position whilst Aadam held a small metal pole where he found it is unknown to all. Aadam took a deep breath before yelling with excitement.

"Sa'ab! There's space weed at the back!"

There was silence for a few seconds before the intercom responded with a roar.

"Wait really?"

"Yeah, come give it a look!" Aadam cried whilst scratching his eyes now having developed a minor case of tinnitus from the ear-piercing sounds of the ships intercom.

Aadam and Quinton prepared themselves for their first battle. The greatest battle of their lives. The final and most decisive engagement in all of humanity's history.

The blast door began to raise.

Unluckily for Sa'ab he was standing on the other side of the door as Quinton lept forward grabbing at his neck with his hands. Aadam who was significantly shorter than both of them simply swiped his metal pole sideways winding Sa'ab who tripped backwards knocking Quinton onto the floor. The end of the brawl culminated in Quinton and Aadam retaking the cockpit of the ship.

"It worked!" Aadam rejoiced.

"Wait there's no weed?" Sa'ab groaned as he rolled onto his back.

"Nahp!" Aadam grinned. Sa'ab began coughing profusely on the cold metal floor of the ship as Quinton helped pull him back up.

"Oh how an Admiral falls... To a mutiny. I should've treated my crew better," Sa'ab muttered. Wiping a non-existent tear from his eye.

"Shut the $%#& up Sa'ab. Let's just agree that there are no captains. We're like the proletariat and we all own the ship," Quinton muttered. Whilst Socialism was a distant memory due to the bloated nature of the Solar Federation Quinton was still an avid leftist and frequently consumed pro-socialist content.

"Actually a corporation owns this ship so technically..."

"Shut up Aadam lets just get a move on," Quinton stammered before taking the wheel. Sa'ab limped into his seat in defeat whilst Aadam prepared for the long haul.

Destination MARS!

Our brave freerunners the 'Star Monkeys' struggled out of the ship finally making landfall in New Washington. In the air was the most extravagant smell of rat piss and engine smoke. Aadam and Quinton walked out wearing masks not wanting to catch a ridiculous Martian disease whilst Sa'ab took in long deep breathes filling his lungs with the smog.

In front of them stood a green afro man with blue sunglasses and a stained white singlet. Behind him was a small green building painted with bright colors named the "Pacifists Den," He looked at the trio with a disappointed pity.

The man yawned before acknowledging the boys.

"Yoooo you're the freerunners?" He slurred obviously high on some unknown substance.

"Uhm yes, please sign here," Quinton stuttered handing him a clipboard with some paperwork.

"Lemme check the goods first," He continued slurring. The 'Star Monkeys' followed the man to the back of the ship. Why the package was so confidential was now unknown to the boys. They assumed it was military supplies or even some secret documents since it had to have been kept secret.

However, due to the way this strange slurring man presented himself they had trouble imagining what was in the package. No way this man was some secret military official or important business man. What could possibly be in this package?

The back door of the 'Star Monkey' rolled up.

Quinton and Aadam both dropped their jaws in utter disbelief. Oddly, Sa-ab was erratically smiling.

"This is definitely illegal," The odd man muttered.

Sitting in front of them were several hundred boxes of 'Federation Solar Weed' an expensive and illegal hallucinogenic plant.

"There was weed in the back!" Sa-ab celebrated.

"I was right?" Aadam muttered with a twitching eye.

"This has to be a sting operation. There's space cops waiting to arrest me for buying space weed from kids!" The odd man yelled. It wasn't a sting operation at all. They were just accidently trafficking space weed.

"I know about this too well. My brother Joseph got caught in a sting operation whilst trying to talk to this twelve year old girl!" The odd man erupted again.

"He's been in jail for fifteen years," He sighed.

Quinton obviously done with this mess walked up to the man.

"Okay we didn't need to know that and honestly we didn't even know we were trafficking weed. Trust me this is most definitely not a sting operation," Quinto reassured.

"How much are you guys getting paid?" The man asked plainly. Almost instantly Sa'ab replied with the $60/hr rate. Obviously still annoyed with the lackluster pay. The odd man sighed before explaining the situation.

Supposedly, he was an ex-Freerunner. After being laid off due to the new Federation legislation his life went downhill. Corporate seized his ship and he had no way to get back home. His wife, kids and home were somewhere in the Augustus sector in the far east of the Federation. Put simply there was no way he was going home.

Nowadays he ran a small lets call it 'Leisurely Business' to keep himself and fellow fired freerunners afloat. Whilst an unbelievably tragic outcome for our odd looking friend he presented a small advantage to our 'Star Monkeys'

As an ex-Freerunner he knew in the ins and outs of the industry and thus informed the group that what corporate was doing was super illegal. Super illegal. Whilst teenagers could be freerunners they could not be in possession of 'Solarweed' less be paid only $60/hr. They were unknowingly trafficking drugs and getting paid three hamburgers for it.

The odd man put placed his hands on his hips.

"This your ship?" He asked. Quinton nodded.

"Alright I've got a deal. I don't want to get arrested by the space cops so I will not take the weed. However, I assume corporate will kill your friends and family if you don't deliver?"

"Yes," Quinton nodded.

"I'll pay for it all but you guys can keep the package. You give the money to corporate. In exchange you fly me back to my home in the Augustus system. Also you guys should complain about your wage. That's definitely illegal," He stated bluntly.

"Wait so we get to keep the solar weed?" Sa-ab muttered.

"I mean sure?"

The 'Star Monkeys' sat on a small wooden bench in a quiet part of town. Behind them an old steel warehouse rusted to the bone. Sa'ab looked towards its guttered doors to see the stacked boxes of 'Solarweed' whilst Quinton and Aadam looked at their phones reveling in the numbers appearing in their bank accounts. From that expedition alone they each gained $550. A respectable earning for a single shift.

"So do we still want to quit?" Quinton muttered.

Sa-ab stared at the shed full of corporate Solarweed and Aadam stared at his back account.

"No let's keep going," Aadam muttered.

"Yeah, this isn't bad. As long as I'm the High Admiral of the ship," Sa-ab joked. Swiftly, Quinton punched him in the face before they erupted into laughter.

Meanwhile, in a distance star system a father reunited with his family and he hugged them.

The First Expedition of the 'Star Monkeys' ended in a complete success. Whilst one day they would become the greatest heroes and most legendary freerunners in the galaxy for now they were just a bunch of boys chasing a crappy paycheck.

And for them it was good enough.