“Narrp” he said to himself, “Narrp” over and over again as he had done for the last three weeks as the orange red rays of Antares pulsed and played with the blue hues of its companion star, flooding the cockpit grey.  Aura shards flick chroma mid-air and Max Jones thinks of heaven at twilight. 

But if this is heaven, why am I alone?

It's been twelve years since I left Earth Port, travelling to this place, in and out of stasis. Now, at journey’s end, the loneliness consumes. I am loneliness and I fear that if I lose loneliness, I'll lose myself. That’s why I’m shit scared to join them: the three hundred or so other souls living out here at the Orr Refinery, my destination.  To them I'm an outsider, a lone courier drifting. I'm just this month’s freighter. 

I hope they’re glad to see me.

My gut turns as caged butterflies seek release by chewing at innards, urging me to lock in loneliness so they may rest.  Nausea rises as the options spin around in my head -- scenario one: dock and remain in the ship as they load precious cargo, return to Earth collect my bounty (in another twelve years); OR scenario them: I board the refinery,  get off the ship, extend my hand in friendship to receive  a warm embrace -- a handshake -- the feel of another’s skin -- a pat on the back -- a friendly smile -- a welcome - or not.

Threatened by anxiety, I take a hit of doze and settle into space while I wait for contact from the outpost.  I dream of Earth and my box shaped ship floating in a blue sky with white puffy clouds. Crowds of people  are looking up and pointing in amazement at my wonderful freighter and its famous captain.  I'm laughing in my controless cockpit as I hear them chanting Companionship! Companionship!, “Companionship. Freighter Companionship. Good to see you on schedule. Respond.”

I snap awake. Haha!

“Freighter. Good to see you on schedule. Respond.”

She has a beautiful voice.

I’ve forgotten how to talk, but I manage somehow,  “Narrp… I mean, Freighter Companionship here!” Then her words hit me hard: ‘on’ ‘schedule’. Just two words ‘on’ and ‘schedule’ say it all.  Good to see me keeping time, not so good to see just me. Don't they know I'm a person. On the other hand, I might as well laugh now that I know my place. No need to stress, just rest easy happy butterflies.

I SEE RED and impluse takes over as I activate the comm, “Hello”, I say. “Just in case you’re wondering, my name is Max and I’m fine.  Yeah, I've been floating out here in space for twelve freak'n years all by my lonesome and ... let me see ... I'm glad to see you too!”.  

I think I hear them laughing from behind the console. Hundreds of tiny voices laughing...as if they would care about me.

“Max, is that short for Maxwell or Maximilian?”

Holy crap! “Aahh, is just Max for Max.” I reply suddenly feeling foolish for my outburst, “Um. Sorry about that. So! I'm Max. What’s your name?”.   A name is a soul and so I wait for a soul.

“Emma. You may call me Emma.”

“Good to meet you Emma.” I reply smiling to myself. I think I've just made a friend.