Galactic Awakening

Musa left a fruit bar on his bedside table. He didn’t know if tonight would be one of those dreams, but he wanted to be prepared. It was always sporadic, but he always prepared himself for the worst of it. As he lay in bed, he waited for the inevitable story to play out. He closed his eyes and felt his environment change around him. Once he opened them again, he wasn’t in his childhood bedroom anymore, but a bright, fluorescent space shuttle. The aircraft was floating through space, aimlessly. In seconds, Musa could guess how long he had been floating through space through the pain coming from his stomach. Tonight it wasn’t too intense; it would’ve been somewhere in the middle of the 2nd year. The supplies were still on hand, and he’d probably just started stretching them out to last longer. Musa was in front of the camcorder, then a familiar voice, that wasn’t his, started speaking through his mouth. “This is Captain Morales of the Demeter 300. It’s Day 550 of being stranded. Rations are slim, but I've figured out that if I stick to eating once a day, then I can last another year, give or take.” The man speaking through Musa sounded numb to his situation, almost robotic, the way he shared such facts linked to his survival. “No response from HQ yet. Communications are still down, and there's still no rescue team in sight. It's a shame, the mission was a success, but now that I’m stranded out here its almost like it never happened.” The voice sounded contemplative. “...I will continue guarding the crystal with my life no matter what. At least I can take comfort knowing I will live again. I’ll be able to see Reza again…” Nothing hurt Musa more than the hunger pangs, but when the man would mention “Reza” it would always supersede it. “Signing off.” Musa closes his eyes and opens them to find himself back in his room. 

He had been dreaming like this for the past 2 years. Every night, Musa would be this man. This astronaut. The first dream he had was the most memorable, the last day the astronaut was alive. The hungriest he had ever been. All he remembers was sitting on a chair and staring at a photo of a woman as he lost consciousness. After that, every night was always a different day for the astronaut who was stuck in the shuttle. Despite the frequency, Musa never told anyone about these dreams. It would feel insane to talk about them because of how real they felt.

He entered his classroom without being noticed and sat down without anyone saying hello. Perfect. Being hidden was his favourite thing about his life. Musa looked around to judge his peers for their immaturity, but fixed his eyes on one person. A girl. She looked so familiar. Before he knew it, he was on his feet. “Um…excuse me? Have we… have we met?” Musa said sheepishly. “I don’t think so. I’m new.” She said. He was shocked that he had made it this far in the conversation without looking away. Locked into her eyes, he said, “Does the name Captain Morales mean anything to you?” That was the first time he said it out loud. The first time he had ever brought the dream world to his reality. He waited for the inevitable, “Who the hell is that?”. Nothing. Silence filled the air. “Never mind,” He said. She immediately stood up and grabbed his hand with purpose. “Come with me.” She dragged him to the parking lot. Dialled a number, threw it in the trash. Before he knew it, 5 tinted cars came rolling in, and with no hesitation, he was escorted into them by 3 burly bodyguards. He was about to go on a journey he could never have imagined; those dreams… memories, were the key to immortality.