According to the starfire's scanners, the space academy was approximately two hours and forty-three minutes away, the starfire had provide protection, shade, and acted as a boat traversing the hungry sea with a long tree branch acting as her paddle. If she still had the other half of the starfire in working order then it would promptly turn into submarine starfire. Samantha was fortunate that starfires were built to be lasting after being nipped in the bud unable to make any flight adjustments except communications and support life through reserve power. She had sprinted her way, quickly pedaled her way, and walked her way toward the southern hemisphere.

And according to her own gut, she had passed by a couple of spaceships that had their own territory over vast acres. There was a feeling in the air under the heat from the sun that something wrong could happen at any moment. She lowered the starfire then looked both ways holding her fist up in defensive position. She looked both ways observing what seemed to be a bus headed her way. She grew a confused look. A bus? A bus? There couldn't honestly be a civilization thriving on a desert scenery like this. Her mind wandered off to the stories of people living in the desert for thousands of years on different planets. The more she stared at the figure headed her way the more it became familiar and a normal transport to see.

Except, that would be normal to see for someone in the 1990's in space.

The same mold, the same model, and the same theme radiating off the Chariot.

The same railing on the top.

The same wheels.

The same windows.

The same satellite on the top.

It became increasingly obvious that the void was a time warp, the Robinsons had crashed landed here three hundred years ago before the planet was destroyed, and that she was on the doomed planet. It could happen at any moment. She picked up the starfire then stepped outside of the way of the approaching Chariot lowering the space craft down. The Chariot had a strange robot sitting in the back with a man that had a bald spot on the back of his head that stood out to her.

"Have you seen a boy with red hair?" John asked. "He is eleven years old."

Samantha shook her head.

"Sorry, sir," Samantha said. "I haven't."

"The academy is that way," John said, pointing toward his left. "Professor or a commander?"

"Officer," Samantha said. "Do you require help?"

"I like to have that help when I know where my son is," John replied.

Samantha smiled, nodding her head in return.

"I wish you the best of luck," Samantha said, then leaned over to see that in fact the Academy was to her left rather than straight ahead. "Well, I'll be damned, I was taking the long way."

John drove past Samantha.

"Why that poor man," Samantha said, resting against her starfire.

Adrian looked out the space monitor that displayed a hovering starfire headed their way manning the night shift.

The back end seemed to be damaged.

Then why was it hovering above the ground?

She pressed a button to the space monitor that zoomed on the starfire.

Adrian watched as a figure became apparent from below that seemed to be in a full body pink suit with long white boots that reached below her knees. Degardez was certainly going to be pleased that the left over metal was going to be used on repairing a Starfire. Chris had elaborated the plan in more detail in their makeshift headquarters full of chalkboards and conferring to Roarg through Smith if it could theoretically work. The Vegan wars had their small rescue operations by both sides that was great in number. A still operational starfire was better than one recently built and not thoroughly tested for any problems.

"Communications, please give me Cadet Degardez," Adrian requested.

"Degardez is off service for the Starfire and Seeker on medical leave," the communication's officer replied. "Cadet Walsters, acting chief nurse, is head of the service."

"Get me Nurse Walsters's temporary quarters," Adrian said.

"Oraco," there was a pause. "rerouting. Rerouted."

"Cadet Walsters," Adrian said.

"Walsters here," Walsters said.

"We got a starfire outside in need of repairs," Adrian said.

"Is it Jason?" Walsters asked, the sound of hopes rising.

"No, it is Sam," Adrian said. "and get repair cadets who haven't been on shift."

"Oraco," Walsters said. "I will make sure the ones not exhausted by the construction are stepping on it. Walsters out."

Adrian nodded to herself, growing a small smile, comforted by the thought that she had done her part-Did Samantha have a collinear on her?

"Ow!" Smith collapsed to the floor dropping the hundreds of papers all over the place and so did Adrian.

Smith wasn't in the make up that made him look older but without it and with the mustache, he looked quite young trying to appear older than than he was. It seemed to border on the level of ridiculousness on him and trying to be mature when he wasn't. The dark eyeliner around his eyes were gone as were the mascara. It made her wonder. Did Gampu wear mascara? These silly questions suddenly became important.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Adrian apologized.

"It's alright, dear," Smith rubbed his forehead then looked on to face the young woman ahead of him. "Hmm, I haven't met you before," Smith was carefully collecting the slips of paper. He tilted his head as though combing through his memories of people that he had seen in the last few days in the academy and he was puzzled why this was the first time they had met. "What is your name?"

"Adrian," Adrian said, with a smile. "Adrian Pryce-Jones. I am the geologist."

"A geologist," Smith said, raising his brows.

"Yes," Adrian said. "A geologist."

"Xenogeology is a thing?" Smith asked, his eyes big and taken back.

Adrian shook her head with a laugh.

"Space Geology is a thing, Doctor," Adrian said. "Xenogeology is still hotly debated among Space geologists."

"I am surprised to hear the field is still going strong," Adrian grew a smile in return with a laugh collecting the paper that seemed to be in text that was largely unfamiliar to her. She looked up toward the doctor raising a brow and he shook his hand. "My personal copies of the scripts," was given dismissively. "You do not need to know what they say or know the added writers notes."

"So what are the plays about?" Adrian asked.

"Hmm," Smith said. "They are historical pieces, comedy, rated R," his eyebrows raised. "I have been told," he shook his head. "Paranormal, fantasy, mystery, thriller, adventure/action. . ." he paused, almost irked by it. "What I don't get is how they act as if they never heard of certain literature."

"Certain literature?" Adrian asked.

"Comic books, drawing books, novels, erotic novels, bad novels, Frankenstein, thought provoking ones, adventitious ones, fantasy ones, and more child appropriate novels," Smith said. "It seems the popular culture is becoming popular again. Even so momentary when it is being rediscovered."

Adrian stacked the paper into her hands.

"It's going to be a good movie," Adrian said. "sounds like a classic in the making."

Smith grew a pleased smile in return.

"It is a play that has has a truly unique ending," Smith agreed, looking down toward the title.

"What ending is that?" Adrian asked.

Smith looked up toward Adrian.

"The princess is awakened by a fair white maiden with rosy lips and dark curly short hair, taller than her, graceful, and very well suited in her armor," Smith said. "Dressed like she were from another time. Another place. A place where she belonged but really didn't in her mind set."

"She can be any one in the academy," Smith grew a big smile. "She could be a few people I know."

"That is the point," Smith said. "She can be any one wishing to get out of the ordinary life style that her people believe is right to live as and the expected fate that she is to follow."

"Sounds like you just made up the ending," Adrian said.

Smith shook his head.

"I didn't just make it up off the bat," Smith said. "I made it up days ago, Adrian."

Smith took the last paper out observing it with pride and fondness.

"What is the ending?" Adrian said.

Smith looked up raising his right brow.

"I know I will see it but I like to hear it from the writer himself," Adrian said.

Smith briefly closed his eyes with a small smile turning his gaze down toward the collection of papers.

"The last lines of the play are about how everything seems so out of the ordinary when the ordinary is so outrageous and less real when it becomes on a level of normal that is expected," Smith said. "If this makes sense." Adrian nodded in return as he slipped the paper underneath the stack and the two stood up to their feet helping each other up. "This character finds her world changed when she goes out of the castle and to her kingdom that has fallen into shambles. But she starts a new life with her knight, her trusted horse, her loyal monk, and small dragons that hoard coins. They make something out of it but nothing that can top her once infinite dream. Because she is happy."

"Just how long is the play?" Adrian asked.

"Several plays long," Smith said

"So. . ." Adrian said. "it's a miniseries."

"Miniseries? Ah yes, it is," Smith replied. "It is. I have to preserve this for future prosperity."

"I am sure several linguistic historians will have a field day over it," Adrian said. "Make sure you hide it somewhere a linguistic officer can find."

"Which is where, exactly?" Smith asked. "I like to leave some imprint in a future that may think of me in a good light."