Even twenty years or so before his disappearance, Mayfield could recall certain details of one particular day…

Short walk from his house. Special school bus. Him dressed all in grey. A goodbye to his mum, before he heard an off-handed astronaut comment. Moments later, an intense, tear-filled scream of terror, of imagination overwhelming reality, that took every seated child and even the adults by surprise.

Was either an hour or two before they could calm him down, before they finally convinced him that he always remained on solid land. Couldn't say it had set his life of exile in stone, but looking back, maybe such volatile emotions could've built the foundations.

That incident and more remained in mind as he sat wrapped in a dozen seatbelts, his eyes glued shut between thoughts of the Challenger and Columbia shuttles, expecting everyone's ashes to either sprinkle the skies or vanish in the streets. Either way, Planet Express would be cremated for good…

Except, by the ladies Luck and at the helm, it never happened.

Once ship and crew had all settled into those calm, starlit seas outside Earth, Mayfield fought to open his eyes. Right first, then left, a sudden quick shut, and repeat. Taking his time, he soon kept them open.

Face-to-face against such unknowable fears, he fought and fumbled through each belt, his body shivering as he dragged his shoes forward. But as he pinched his skin, rubbed his eyes and 'washed' his face, what once consumed him had been driven away by a childlike wonder, light-years beyond those libraries and life-sized monuments…

How dare he believe this to be real, yet how dare he deny his very eyes.

This was no fantasy nor careless imagination. No documentary nor news article. No artist's rendition nor live feed, either. True as he stood there, just the words forming, he stared out towards the actual universe itself.

Shaken and sweaty hands across his mouth, as the stars drifted past like snowflakes. A floating to his tiptoes, as they whizzed by giant worlds of any shape, size and colour. Eyes beaming to light the way, while they cruised by and through clouds of coloured dust. Palms-over-head as he grinned for those trails of frozen death, hulking hellrocks and star-sucking anomalies right after.

Truly, all this would beg a bunch of questions from a life flunkout turned hapless flunky, but they were the kind that could wait…

This endless heaven before him now, he bowed to his knees, eventually falling to his back as tears began to shed, then just pour out. The thought he'd never reach such heights, such happiness & hope… However momentary this feeling was, it left him only able to pump fists and slap the floor.

And of course, all to the Captain's notice: "Auto-pilot, set course for Stumbos-4, feel free to take the scenic route."

"Certainly ma'am, calculating longest course… Arrival estimated in thirty to forty-five minutes."

Face blotched in bliss, Mayfield only had silent thank-yous while taking his time to sit up. Felt his shoulder caressed, almost struck it away before he noticed it was the Captain's. Tender touch and sincere smile, two things he never knew Leela to have.

Cocooned into a shell of sorts for not getting himself together… Not that she seemed to mind.

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"There's no smoother drop you'll ever taste,"—she patted him on the back—"so drink it in, kid."

Only a nod, if she could even call it one, in reply. Helped him stand up, and took him to the dashboard.

"Y'know, even as I worry for The Professor and his leadership, I do enjoy being his Captain and Head Pilot. A splash of modest wine, a pinch of spare time, a generous dash of auto-pilot…" Scanned around before a kiss of fingers, her voice brought down: "My recipe for magic, right there."

No longer a delivery boy, but a child born again, he gave a polite hand-raise to excuse himself. Was certain the customers didn't need to see him cry, and figured that an ice-cold facewash might've done the trick.

Still struggled to stiffen his lip afterward, so just addressed his Captain as best he could.

"Ohhhh, it's more than magic you've just shown me… Would've thrilled me to tears just to see these on Earth, to stand alone in quiet nights while the skies above did their stuff. Course, I had no chance back home."

"That one reason why you hated your old life?"

"Tch, one of many, who are you fooling? Got so bad I tried to drown my throat in 101-proof whiskey. Found myself here instead of dying in a vomit pool… I guess you know the rest."

"Maybe there's plans for you yet. Many in your position would've taken the suicide booth by now."

"They're such a thing? Perhaps for the best, as I just might've been tempted to do so. That moment I screamed and woke you all up, I was scared for the twisted shit in my head. Long sentence type stuff, if I was lucky."

"Don't remember feeling like a hero. To get serious for a second, I saw myself become the villain as I beat you."

"Of course your actions were extreme, but I had to sober up one way or another. If you didn't yell from your window, stand to me outside, flash that eye of yours…"

Dead silence before she did so again, setting off another panic.

"Oh Gods, what have I done now?!"

"You mean like that one?" A chuckle to remind him of Zoidberg, of that cruel game against him.

"Hey screw you arsehole, that's not funny! What happened after won't be something I'll just forget, whether you demand me to or not. You wore scars like those, you'd understand."

"You still think I haven't? You got a peek into that curtain just two afternoons ago, and that's more than I've done for any stranger. If you value your life, that's as far as you'll ask."

"So you expect me to just know, do you?" Became a circus barker then and there: "Right this way friends, step right up for Mayfield's Magical Mind Meld! Watch as he waves his fingers in front of your face, yells 'Presto', and exposes your secrets!"

"For just five minutes, could you can the smartass act, pal?"

"Look, I get I'm just a stranger, but if I can't see that line, how can I avoid crossing it?"

"Oh you'll get your cues, rest assured… So, how's your first time in space?"

"When even my old Moon was reserved for just the greatest astronauts or visionaries, what do you believe I'm going to say?"

A shuffle forward, after her wave of encouragement. Yet another first of hers…

"Right now, it's better than I've ever imagined. It's as if we travel an infinite canvas where artists unknown can brush and flick from omnipotent wrists, all to splash a symphony of stars, planets, galaxies and beyond all together."

An unsure glance back, and from her a series of gazes and flares, yet another of those waves.

"All that's around us, it's like us in a sense; trillions of celestial bodies, created and ceased over billions of years. Each one unique by their colours, shapes, quirks, insides or daresay their surfaces. I always wanted to sail among these stars, these shining fireflies that guide us…"

He moved to the dash, feeling his voice leave him.

"Truth is, I accepted the fact that I'd never live those dreams. Yet by standing here now… Maybe I can believe again."

As her charge bowed a thankful man, Leela stared once more at those stars, this new perspective collecting in mind. Had her share of flings among creative types, and while she carried her iPod more than her bookmark, her smile couldn't deny such a love letter. Words that had failed her as of late.

"Gotta say kid, you work on yourself a while, that sense for sweet talk might swing a woman your way."

"Appreciate it, but wouldn't be right to involve a woman in my shit right now."

"Fair reason as any… Just don't hold out for too long though, okay?"

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As Mayfield moved to make that promise, the ship gave a sudden, violent lurch to send him sprawling to the floor. Got to his feet, a curse to mouth, before a couple more sent him flying forward instead. Might've asked what was going on before he slammed hands to his ears, a cacophony of blares, tones and voices that had Leela bolt for her seat, retaking her mantle.

"AMY! Status report?"

"Guh-oh, Captain… Red Alert; dozen cargo bandits of Kharmanian stock, preparing to fire again!"

"Over sheets & blankets? Ugh, hate these scaly, sneaky sons-of… MAYFIELD!"

"Captain?! The hell is going on?"

"Cargo bandits, of the kill-and-loot kind! Now get your ass to that seat, maximum buckling, and DON'T MOVE!"

"Right away, ma'am!" No way was he gonna play the hero…

"Hang on tight crew, this ride's about to get rough!"

For that poor kid in his dozen seatbelts, never a bigger understatement she'd ever utter. Had tried his small share of rollercoasters in the old life, ones to trap suckers in and send them screaming into who knew what. At great speed, torque, rotation or all three, everyone would turn, twist, turnabout, loop & drop.

Made him glad he skipped breakfast, as this ride made those out like kiddie coasters.

How Leela dodged and manoeuvred through wave after wave of lasers and cut-offs, how she sent those pirates crashing into one another, it would've dropped his jaw if he weren't afraid of heaving out of it.

"Sick of playing against these walking handbags… Does anyone know how to handle the turret?"

"The kid mentioned wasting time on video games, when we met!" Amy hollered among the chaos.

"Wait, what?"

"MAYFIELD!" she barked. "Listen up, I'm gonna get us space; when I say go, you'll get up this ladder and park yourself once inside!"

"Sure I played lots of games, but they never applied to real life, ma'am! Since when did you show me the turret, and are you out of your mind?!"

"I know, I know God-dammit, but time's short! Enough questions, now GO!"

Had no time to dwell on her escape techniques; ripping his belts off he sprinted for the ladder, leaping a rung or two at once before he cramped inside that dome. Though quick to settle, he panicked for the sight of dozens upon dozens of buttons before him.

Tried to call out, but his mind blanked as he spotted those remaining bandits, as he saw green scales of a creature—of considerable size & merit—glow red.

"No-one takes me for a fool and gets away with their lives! Subordinates, initiate large 'Vee-plus-One' formation, and target the sides!"

For all of the Captain's capabilities, even she couldn't avoid those giant, fiery arrowheads for long. Piece by piece, the ship was eaten away, all while Mayfield still struggled before the heads-up display.

"HEY, do I have to send Amy up there?! Stop screwing around and fire back already!"

"Sorry Captain, just these buttons here… How do I even turn it on?!"

"Oh damn you, Farnsworth! You and your worthless additions… Kid, just scream 'Turret on' and it'll come live… Hurry up, I have no intentions of dying before my 30th!"

"You think I do?!"

Upon the command, systems sure enough came online as he got a feel for his controller; light gun, branded BlamCo, fancy logo of L-Con 45 on the handle. His mission, should he desire to stay alive? Shoot each ship 15 times—the six that remained—in just forty seconds before the hull was breached.

Like he could ever do that, but as he continued handling the gun, a memory flashed into mind…

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Those care-free days at university, of times where he studied 'arcadia' over academia. Would brush the mahogany wood of those pool tables, scan the ups and downs of the latest pinball machine, fiddle those joysticks on the variety of arcade consoles… Even enjoy a chat with Murray, the man who ran the place and oversaw them all.

Had gotten so good bouncing ball bearings up tables, he could spend hours on only a single dollar or two. Sometimes dabbled towards reliving forgotten or loved classics, and on rare frisky days, he'd try his hand at arrow-timed dancing.

But a fond favourite would always come at the end of a gun barrel. Solid grip on the handle, the next challenge to grace his eyes. A wooden bar, far as the eye could see. The two whacky, vegetable-headed mascots, either serving or staring. Dozens upon dozens of liquor bottles lined up, and just 12 seconds to clear the counter from end-to-end…

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Had seconds to spare when he did so, and he remembered how.

Gun squeezed in his right, fingers flexed on the left, he dried his pointer and middle as the ship's shields and hull continued to falter. Taking careful aim, he then spammed the trigger—one-two, one-two, one-two—for all he'd been worth. To think he let that one extra finger cause him such trouble before this…

While his accuracy had gotten rusty, and his fingers began to tire, the pure blitzkrieg had soon outweighed such issues. One by one, the onslaught had reduced that strong cadre of bandits to creaks & strains, a mere hit or two from an explosive send-off.

"We're getting blitzed to Swiss cheese here, Commander, the hell do you suggest?!"

"I don't know, you worthless schmuck, let me think for a mome…"

Never finished that sentence, for his ship had soon roasted before everyone's eyes. An initial silence of shock & grief, before one soldier was brought back from the continuing return of lasers.

"Respect for the fallen, you disgusting creature!"

"Shove your so-called honour… VETE AL DIABLO, you motherfuckers!" came the reply.

"My brethren, loot or otherwise, kill those responsible!"

Bold words, but once Mayfield felt a second wind flex in his fingers, gave his final spray of mouth & gun, it was all over. Though by no means unscathed, Planet Express were victorious.

Assured they didn't deserve a quick death as he watched those floating, flailing corpses choke their last breaths, Mayfield felt his head tilt, his eyes slit, and a most malevolent grin creep on his face.

Turret turned off and left to smoke a bit, no sooner he slid down he was slapped upon the back, given a round of cheers.

"Woo-hoo, that was amazing!"

"A finer gunman I've rarely seen… Excellent job out there, kid!"

Felt like a new experience, these compliments… Could only shuffle his shoes and shrug a little: "Didn't know I could do that, but glad I…"

"Oh shklit, hit the deck… Incoming debris!"

Amy's scream had Leela barrel towards the wheel to swerve away, but despite such efforts, they still collided against several remnants of retribution from beyond those graves. The ladies were lucky enough to be strapped in or behind their co-pilot controls, while Mayfield didn't even think to grip the ladder.

In a matter of seconds, his body got seized screaming toward the abyss as the bridge was breached, and begun to rip apart. Had thought of holding his breath, but before he could do so, or disappear for good, he slammed into a massive chunk of ship, by fates themselves responsible for plugging up that hole.

Probably the worst rookie mistake to make, if he had the time to make it.

Not that he could've realised, in frozen-eyed attempts to hold and rock himself. Hearing that rapid series of chokes escape his lungs, and finding himself unable to move his legs despite great effort, he continued to fight for his life.

Positive thoughts… Considering what he'd seen of Hollywood and animated comics, was perhaps his luckiest break yet to die in one piece.

The two ladies, meanwhile, could only rub their necks, laugh, and hug for such lucky whimsies. A move to have Mayfield stare, let go of himself and slam his fists.

"Well crew, it looks like we ride on." Leela declared.

In great waves of tears, the rookie could only give erratic gestures of "Screw this! Just land!" towards their direction. If not for the empty stomach, that sudden force might've ripped some complimentary 100 Grand bars out of his guts.

"Speak up Mayfield, I'm not one for nonsense games like charades!"

"You can't tell by looking at him?" Amy chimed in. "Whatever happened there, he's fading fast, and I don't want that ship popping loose! Just this once, put your pride aside and get us to the repair bays, now!"

Leela tensed her grip on the wheel, a growl from her lips, before she ignored her co-pilot and landed on the nearest planet. The sounds of metallic groans, screeches & warps, as her ship sank under its own weight…

Moments after, the rubble had indeed popped loose, leaving a hole big enough for instant disintegration upon departure. A lucky turn of fate, perhaps, to hear the Auto-Pilot describe the locale of Stumbos-4, instead of anywhere else.

Not that Leela cared about that, or her crew's concerns, once she got that game face on…

"In any part of both of your pleas, did you forget who you were flying under? While you both huddled or got sucked out, I was already plotting our safest route… I'm no dummy, you two! Now nobody's going anywhere, so I suggest you both quit whining, get on your feet, and start delivering these things!"

Off Leela pounded, while Amy and Mayfield just looked at each other… Just as well they shared a moment when Mayfield used some fingers; his pointer for Leela, and his middle too.

A good snicker stopped short, as a yell shot back up the ladder.

"Well, you two happy to stay on board and starve to death? Get your lazy asses to the cargo bay!"

Once it clicked that just Amy moved out, Leela could've unnerved a Drill Sergeant as she climbed back out, ready to kick Mayfield out of the side if she had to. Meanwhile, he couldn't so much as scream to signal his direst straits yet.

"The hell's taking so long kid… Uh, kid?"

Nowhere near the ladder, not out of the bridge… A quick rush inside had soon confirmed the worst; assured signs of losing oxygen as his fingers turned blue.

"Oh crap! Come on Mayfield, stay with me, stay with me!"

Taking a knee beside him to activate her device's 'Colour X-Ray', she knew he was in deep trouble once she scanned his entire body. Clean break detected on the lower spine, and severe cases of burst lungs. Knew it would've been murder (or gross negligence) to send him out now, regardless of the fight he had left.

"No way you'll survive out there, so you're sitting this one out. Come on, let's head for the cabin."

Seizing his dead leg, she rolled through and heaved him upon her shoulders, neither her knees nor back caring to give way. Had her charge surprised yet grateful, as he soon found himself inside the cabin, and settled onto the bottom hammock.

Giving a tender stroke of his head, she took a frowning glance backwards as she again prepped herself to take over…

"Just this once, can I get someone who'll last BEYOND their first day?"

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As his Captain disappeared, Mayfield's eyes and mouth could only marvel and mope for his luck. Saved the crew courtesy of his video game experience, but knew that his second chance at life was over before it began.

Even if somehow he survived his oxygen situation, no-one would keep him around on a wheelchair or fancy hovermajig if they could help it. Besides, he knew of no syringe to fix that now-mutilated spine of his.

Laying there now, he ran through the dozens of excuses of why he'd be let go, summed under just one major reason. Business was business, time was money, and why waste time or money for an unproven asset?

Indeed, why wouldn't they toss him out the lobby, leave him to step over on the way to work?

Could only glance at his watch, a slow headshake: "Wow, from Heaven to bedrock in ten minutes flat… Does it matter anymore?"

His heart as good as sunk knowing he wouldn't be kept around, all he could do was stare off towards the purple skies, watch the seconds tick by on occasion. If they ever escaped, perhaps he could get the honour of a proper send-off.