For a long while, darkness conquers along with the deafening silence. Then, he wakes up. Again.

"Where am I? What happened?"

The only response for Captain Lance Scott, are the familiar beeps and clicks of the starship's computer. His eyes can only open wide in fear, through the fogged safety glass of his deep space helmet.

"Oh God! Not again! Please, not again!" He appeals.

Outside, several million miles away, the giant red star seems to be smiling wickedly at the captain. The prominences and solar flares dance around in the void, appearing as tentacles on a maniacal octopus. Though the heat is not felt inside the pressurized cabin of Harbor One, Captain Scott is sweating bullets.

"Computer," he orders in loud commanding voice. "Turn the ship around!"

It takes a few seconds before the computer responds in its gentle and calming female voice.

"All systems are normal. Continuing with the mission," it replies.

"Damn you," he shouts! "How can systems be normal? We're heading directly into the sun!"

But then, it all seems too familiar. The arguments with the computer, the sun a million miles ahead with its relentless devilish glare, and the pounding fear in his heart. They are all too familiar.

"But how can this be?" He thinks. "This must be a Deja Vu from hell."

"All systems are normal," the computer sedately replies.

He clumsily taps on the console's keyboard. A task not suited while wearing protective gloves. He checks and double checks the data that is madly scrolling up on the monitor. But no matter how he twists it, analyses it, cogitates it, there is no making sense of it.

The digital read-out on the monitor verifies that Harbor One is increasing in speed exponentially. The engine's meter indicates that the booster rockets have been at full throttle for twenty-years. The Solar Dish Array, a vital piece of equipment which provides the ship's perpetual fuel by collecting minuscule amounts of protons, seems to be fully operational. The computer reports that the nuclear batteries cells will endure for another twenty-five years.

All systems appear to be normal. Except- Why is the mission clock reporting five months and not twenty years as it should?

He composes himself. He sits up firmly in his command chair, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

In deep thought, Captain Scott recalls everything that he was trained to do. He can recall the long hours in an isolated chamber on the recently colonized planet, Earth Two. He can recall that it was the test of endurance. He can remember his Commanding Officer detailing the first objective of this particular mission. His job was to scan the surface of a newly discovered planet in this solar system for possible colonization. It is the fourth planet orbiting that strange red sun- the sun that the astronomers back on the colony affectionately christened, the Red Star. It is the foreboding entity that is now directly in front the ship, which now seems to be laughing at him.

He can recall his second objective of the mission: To collect data emanating from the Red Star for further studies. The scientist of the colony must study and classify this unfamiliar radiation pouring out from the surface. The type of radiation that scientists speculate can bend space and time if properly manipulated. They said that this ship was capable of acquiring the data they needed, if Captain Scott dared ventured close enough to the surface.

"The radiation! Maybe this is what's causing all the discrepancies," he reasons softly.

"Computer? Can your scanners pick up any radiation seeping into the ship?" he asks in a trained state-of-mind.

There's a long pause. The computer clicks and beeps.

"There is no radiation present within the ship," it responds.

"Run a self-diagnostic and find any malfunction to your software's algorithms and find out if there are malfunctions to any of the systems hardware."

A pause.

"Diagnostics completed. There are no malfunctions to report. All systems are normal. Mission is continuing as scheduled," it replies.

He pounds the console in anger as if though he can fix the problem with his fist. He's lost all self-control.

"Damn it! Can't you see that you're wrong?! How can the engines run for twenty years and the mission clock read five months?! Something's wrong!"

The venerable captain is in tears.

"All systems are normal," it contends with no emotion.

He pounds the console again. All his training is now momentarily forgotten. His only thoughts are on that strange feeling that is now transfixing him into the moment.

It can't be a dream, he thinks. If it is, he wants to wake up now.

Harbor One suddenly jolts aggressively forward. It whips him back into his command chair. The ship violently quivers without mercy. The speed indicator cannot track the sudden burst of forward momentum. The speed of the spacecraft is increasing unbearably. The gravitational push compresses Captain Scott deep into the chair. He can feel his skin and muscles tighten around his bones. He can barely move an inch but can only open his eyes long enough to awe at the Red Star. It is this beast that seems to be bidding him to come closer and closer.

"Turn the ship around! Please!" He begs, his voice shaking along with the ship.

"All systems are normal," it replies calmly.

"I can't go through this again!" He weeps. "Not again please!"

"All systems are normal."

"They set me up," he thinks.

He is furious. Furious at everything and everyone that sent him to his death.

"You bastards! I hope you enjoy your data in hell!" His screaming voice crowns the surrounding noise.

The violent trembling is reaching its crescendo. The light penetrating from outside is an unbearable knife stabbing through his eyelids. Despite its luminosity, he feels he has to peer at the red star just one more time. Just one more time.

Is it his imagination, or is Red Star opening its mouth to eat him.

A long pause.

For a long while, darkness conquers along with the deafening silence. Then, he wakes up. Again.

"Where am I? What happened?"

The only response for Captain Lance Scott, are the familiar beeps and clicks of the starship's computer. His eyes can only open wide in fear, through the fogged safety glass of his deep space helmet.

"Oh God! Not again! Please, not again," he appeals.

Outside, several million miles away, the giant red star seems to be smiling wickedly at the captain.