Smith's eyes fluttered open as he turned his head to the side with a groan. The side of his head felt off. He started to reach forward only to find his hands and arms were restricted by the belly chain keeping it in place that made the chains rattle with the struggle. It felt rounded and small embedded under his skin drilled in to the left temple. It was rounded and small enough to be noticeable, a visible bump from the side of his head. Why they had added it was a mystery to him. He was helped off the bed then moved out of the room past the unfamiliar faces who stared at him. Weaver watched him leave her section of the base as he went through the doors.

The scenery grew familiar to him as they took odd twists and turns as though the building itself was larger than before. He came past the physical training lab-the memory of training the Robinsons resurfaced-then turned his head off the newly added window. It was large and circular displaying the pure white interior that matched the equipment in the large by the inside room fitting the futuristic mood of the facility. A fond look grew on his face with nostalgia dripping in his mind.

Smith turned his attention off the window to see what was ahead. The doors rolled open before him leading him to the familiar landing padd. There was a massive saucer ship from ahead of him that made him ignore the crowds of noisy people that were behind thick barriers that had windows. There were reporters struggling to speak over the intensity of the people around them. The officers stopped five feet away from the hangar entrance as did Smith with looks of awe. The landing gears were down keeping the ship well balanced against the floor.

There were four landing gears that were easily large enough for a group to walk up. Smith could observe that the landing gear were coming out of different sections of the hull ranging length, he could infer the leading one was from the hangar bay, the second one was directly from engineering, the third one was from the waste deck, and the fourth one was from the residential deck. Based off his reasonable assumptions.

He looked up to see the familiar hatch window and the door that was outlined from the side. The top half was gently spinning revealing the closed front window that was going in slow motion. As if the ship itself were preparing to lift off. For a brief moment, the window barrier was open to reveal Don and John sitting behind it preparing for lift off in Jupiter 2 space uniform. Smith closed his eyes, painfully, then reopened them to see that the front window was closed. The soft humming coming from the spaceship was alien and very unfamiliar.

He looked down to see the large deutronium from below the spaceship that were making the familiar high pitched wail. The very familiar sound was easing, comforting to a point that everything was going to be alright through the uncertainty among danger. Across from the three were a clustered group of young people who were laughing.

That had to be the group that he was told about. The members of the rescue team consisted of spaceship pilot/security officer Lieutenant Bobellis, security officer Wyrt, security officer Carly, engineer Kenanan, Doctor Madalyn, Major Watson, animal handler Hamall, and the mostly silent member of the team Lieutenant Sanchisko.

He had been filled in heavily regarding Watson's career about his previous missions but he felt like he were being warned about him rather than being debriefed. Something about the man bothered Smith. Almost always did he lose his charge but always return with the required target. Smith looked up to observe the registry of the ship that read in clear: UNITED. STATES. OF. AMERICA - JUPITER 2030. A tall dark, muscular man approached the two officers only coming to a stop directly beside them.

"She is a beauty," came the man.

"I can't believe this is what a Jupiter looks like," came the first officer.

"Trust me, that awe goes away and it becomes old after awhile," the officer's turned their attention on to the man.

"Who might you be?" the second officer asked.

"Major Watson," Watson said, with a nod. "The prison pod is on the residential deck by the galley."

"Yes, sir," the officers said.

"Continue as you were," Watson said.

The two men brought Smith up into the hangar bay that was massive and full of equipment. It had been a long time since he had been here. He recalled the hangar bay being much smaller in size for the Jupiter 2 model. A small circular room with only the necessities that ranged from the deutronium drilling rig, the foldable Chariot, drills, and so on. It felt new and old at once but more elaborate enough to be seen as a flying base of operations. The hangar bay was always cramped but there was always enough room to spare for a single file line to head off the ramp holding on to the equipment. Like the Jupiter 2, there were three entrances (minus the additional one) that lead to different levels. That was then, this is now.

He was guided into the light gray familiar elevator then the first officer pressed on the button to the side. The elevator rolled up with a rumble onto the residential deck. Smith gazed down toward the glowing white glass paneling in the shape of a capitalized 'T' in the center. His gaze went over the edge of the elevator car see the familiar white glass glowing from around the edge with short gray gaps in between. That much hadn't changed since the last time he had used the elevator upon his departure with his hands cuffed with two officers flanking his back. It was the second most familiar aspect of the new Jupiter. The elevator came to a smooth stop drawing his attention up. The first officer slid the rails aside.

Smith observed that the residential deck was different. It seemed to be fitted for a spaceship rather than a house that flew in space. It felt less like home. His eyes wandered around taking in the stark changes. Smith stepped out into the familiar light gray paint job that made the drastic changes stand out even more. He looked off expecting to see the door that could be slid to close off the quarters only instead several doorways that had closed doors. He walked on but his eyes were caught by a familiar hue. Noticing the familiar golden tinted floor beneath his feet. His aged blue eyes drifted up toward the wall.

Smith counted how many doors there were. One of the doors were large as though it had been intended for the parents. The other doors were smaller in size and more arched in terms of design. The idea that children got to have their own rooms rather than get to share it with their siblings would have been something that would have thrilled the children. Even more good news for the parents if they had that many children needing their own rooms.

How big were families in America these days? Were they larger than five individuals? If the nine smaller rooms were of any indication that it might be a good possibility. Diverse and well blended. He mentally smiled at the imagery, the Robinsons in their silver and orange space suits standing in the residential deck figuring out who took each room had they been given this ship. The eighth room had to belong to the pilot. It was the size of a average door smaller than the rest of the other doorways.

He felt like a complete stranger abducted then moved into a alien spaceship with little to no familiar faces to help him settle in. He looked around in awe only coming to a stop making the officers halt in their tracks. There was a familiar recharging station that had a open doorway holding more humanoid figure with pure white skin and armor of the sorts that seemed to fit their alien nature with dark hair and a muscular yet feminine build.

"Alexa Anne for you," came the first officer. "A direct descendant of Sophie the AI. She was meant to be the environmental Android."

"Not anymore," The second officer said. "She is a piece of the ship."

"I never heard of this Sophie the AI," Smith said. "Environmental Robots are never just part of the ship. They're part of the family."

"Philosophical are you?" the first officer asked.

Smith sighed, shaking his head, closing his eyes.

"It isn't radical philosophy," Smith said. "It's fact."

"Coming from a insane man, I think that's a reach," the second officer said, rolling a eye. "Come on."

Smith looked on ahead to see a doorway that lead into the kitchen and beside it was a single cryostasis pod. They came to a stop in front of the pod then unshackled his ankles and removed the belly chain unexpectedly. His elbows relaxed, able to have some form of freedom. There was a monitor attached to the wall from beside the cryostasis pod. He looked over toward it noticing that it was very different from the last time he had seen it. No longer was it a small, cramped piece of furniture sleeker and slightly wider with four wide black slots located where the shoulders were meant to be and a section at the waist as well.

"What about my hands?" Smith asked.

"No can do," The first officer replied.

"I can't sleep like this!" Smith exclaimed. "I'll be aching all over when I wake up."

"Haven't you thought maybe that's the point?" The second officer asked, annoyed.

"The point is not to be aching but to be refreshed," Smith said, his eyes growing big at the last part.

"Our hands are tied on this matter, Mr Smith," The first officer said.

"Can't I have some freedom?" Smith requested. "Gentlemen, please, I won't harm you."

"Much as we like to-we really would-," The first officer said. "It doesn't say in orders to take the hand cuffs off."

The elderly man turned around and climbed into the cryostasis pod. He turned around to face the two men and lifted his arms halfway up, lowered his left hand against the palm of his other hand, then slightly waved his right hand toward the two men.

"Adieu," Smith said, then lowered his hands into his lap clasping aged fingers together.

"Sweet dreams," The first officer said.

Smith closed his eyes in anticipation with a reluctant sigh. A golden light illuminated his figure. The cryostasis pod began to fog up a moment after the machine had been activated. The two officers turned around then walked away from the cryostasis pod as their figures left behind shadows that shrunk in size walking away. The camera moved over toward the vitals to display that his heartbeat was going slower than it should be.

The ship trembled lifting up from the large landing pad soaring into the sky with fanfare from behind a massive barrier cheering on the departing Jupiter 2030. The crowd's screams distant drawing low and lower over the sound of the hitch pitch wail belonging to the mother ship. The mothership left a large shadow behind lingering on the crowd until it, too, grew smaller in size being small as the tip of a pen until it was no more. The camera came on to the bridge fleeing out of the bridge into the conference room doing a complete 180 to get a good view of it to face the bridge then slowly strolled back into the bridge.

The crew were in their cryostasis pod fast asleep as were the dogs in the large booth. The camera rotated around the light gray scenery observing the familiar old equipment with a sleeker console covered in plenty plenty of glowing light casings surrounded by colorful buttons from above the two joy sticks, more chairs, and a astrogator that hadn't changed at all. It bubbled from side to side in a gentle manner most similar to how a toy ballerina danced in a music box full of grace and care.

The camera went through toward the rooms connected to the conference room leading to the quarantining section that had large hazard suits ranging in height and size folded neatly in a part of the large room. There was a laboratory that had everything put away, a shooting range, and a virtual reality room covered in touch screens from top to bottom to side to name a few. The massive Jupiter tore through the atmosphere making the exit leaving behind Earth with several parts of America visibly still reeling from a nuclear attack with parts of the land appearing to be large craters where paved aging roads ended but the green was taking over the tell-tale signs of total destruction.