"I pledge to always request and receive from Rubix only what is for the good of all and not for any selfish purpose!" I echo alongside the rest of my crew. My right arm is stretched outward at a 45° angle in the salute stance. My hand aches but I don't mind. I'll gladly endure the pain of raising my arm forever if it means making things right and stopping the impending chaos.

This pledge that we've all just dutifully recited is the creed of all Nigerian Space Officers, one we’ve grown to love more than the national pledge. Though my palms feel sweaty under my haptic Smartflex gloves, my heart thrums in excitement at the thought of the mission we are about to embark on. Never mind that it's only been three months since my last space voyage.

"And God be with you!" the president says, his voice filling the departure room. His keen eyes scan the crew and stay on me. I swallow down the longing that swells in my chest and avert my gaze.

It will not be proper for a female Space Officer to be seen passionately embracing the president of the country. Not that his bodyguards will even permit such proximity. Though this space mission won't be broadcast on National TV, nasty rumours can spread quickly. I am certain his ‘wife’ will not be too pleased to hear them.

Also, I fear he might push me off, considering the invisible ice fortress that has grown between us over the years. I cannot risk it. A public rejection will be more painful than anything.

My team and I march out to the brilliant green landscape of the Nigerian Aerospace Institute (NAI), Lagos, Nigeria. On the large steel scaffolding platform stands NAIS-119i, the third high-tech, high- speed space shuttle of its kind, solely invented, maintained and piloted by the Nigerian government.

The subject of this mission, the Rubix satellite, a technological marvel even by international standards, ushered Nigeria into a utopian era since its launch over a decade ago.

Now, in 2095 AD, an unidentified threat looms. A sudden, inexplicable glitch in this satellite—the brain of the Rubix AI—has sent ripples of unease through the nation. This is the second time the satellite has faltered; the first was a minor incident when a stray meteor grazed its solar panel wing.

I raise my smartwatch close to my mouth and speak. "Rubix, it's Hephzibah Onobi, Commander of the NAIS-119i. Please provide access to the first compartment."

The space shuttle door noiselessly slides open, and we file in as Rubix's robotic feminine voice says, Welcome onboard. Just four of us make up the main crew for this mission—I, Toluwani, Umar and Irebo.

Toluwani is the drop-dead handsome guy whose IQ rivals Einstein's. Being the pilot of the spaceship, he happens to be my personal favourite of the crew. He hoists me up into the high compartment seat designated for me after watching me struggle to mount on my own.

This embarrassing scenario happens almost every time. I consider asking Rubix for bionic leg implants to adjust my height but dismiss it as selfish. Plus, I’ll miss the sensation of Toluwani’s strong arms lifting me. My Smartflex Helmet hides my blush as I mutter a “thank you” and bite my lower lip. He nods and climbs to his compartment. I can't see his expression under the helmet, but I imagine the usual impassive perfection of his face.

"Captain, what happens if we fail?" Irebo asks in a whisper as she straps herself to her ergonomic zero-gravity chair. She is my unofficial protégé and the tactical engineer for the ship.

I steady a level gaze on her, sizing up her small frame. Her question needs a direct response, one I'm not too eager to give. "That will mean us going back to the chaos we have left behind in the past."

"That must never happen. God forbid," Umar says vehemently from behind me. He is the technical operator, the engineer in charge of maintenance and stuff. If anything goes haywire during or after the launch, he'll be in charge of the repairs.

"Thank you for that timely affirmation, Umar," Toluwani says, his fingers flipping the launch switch. The engine whirrs to life, and the countdown timer begins. "Now let's go find out and stop whatever glitch might be going on up there."

Rubix’s android voice drones: Launch sequence initiated.

Toluwani’s voice crackles over the comms system, "T-minus 10 and counting…"

Liftoff confirmed.

"Clear the tower! Go for launch."

With a burst, the space shuttle hurtles into the sky. The rumble beneath my seat intensifies, but I vaguely perceive it, thanks to the multi-layered exoskeleton of my custom spacesuit.

As the space shuttle pierces the cloud cover, entering the thermosphere, I marvel at the panoramic view of swirling clouds. The view of the azure sky, which my helmet's AR visor provides, steals my breath away.

Although it isn't my first time, each time the spacecraft I board breaks through, the sky still looks like a crystal river waiting to be explored, never failing to leave me in awe.

When I was little, around five years old, I had a fascination for staring at the vast sky. At school, during recess, I would gaze at the sky for long periods, trying to figure out what it was made of, until the sun blanked my sight.

Before bedtime, on nights when the sky was bespectacled with stars and the moon was in its full bloom, I would stroll out of my room to the balcony to gaze at the sky. Though I try not to admit it, my desire to know what it would feel like to reach for the stars is one of the many reasons I chose this career path.

This fascination crystallised into an obsession the night I heard Dad sobbing on the balcony. That was months after the death of my mother, following her struggle with ovarian cancer.

That night, feeling very lonely and scared after jerking awake from what seemed to be a nightmare, the details of which I couldn't recall, I shuffled out to the balcony, tailing the muffled sounds of anguish. The solar-powered chandelier on the balcony's ceiling was aglow, casting a low light on my dad's slumped frame.

"Are you crying, Dad?" I asked, hugging the door jamb.

Startled at being discovered, he sniffled into his sleeves and looked at me with puffy eyes.

"You're still awake?" His voice was hoarse.

"I can't sleep."

He sniffled again and patted his thigh. I skipped over and snuggled into his laps. It had been so long since he allowed me to come this close.

"I miss Mom," I said after a moment's silence. "When will she come back to us?"

He remained stiffly quiet for so long I almost thought he didn't hear me. When he finally spoke, his voice held an uncharacteristic tremor. "She is in heaven now, Princess."

The first time he told me this was when he returned from the hospital, teary-eyed. "Your mom is in heaven now," he had said, his voice grim. I didn’t fully register what the words meant, didn't grasp why he was grieving. The pain he felt was slowly gnawing a deep hole into his soul and it reflected in his countenance.

Now, I pointed up at the starry sky. His eyes traced the imaginary path my fingers drew across the constellations.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" he said.

"Yes," I nodded, pointing at the brightest twinkling star. "I like that one."

"Me too," he said with a heavy sigh. "I like to think that is your mother. She is in a better place."

I scrunched my brows. "But, why is Mom not coming back?"

"Hephzibah, she… she…" he stammered and broke down in tears.

It was a gut-wrenching sound that twisted my insides until my chest began to heave. Warm tears cascaded down my cheeks as I attempted to console my dad. I'd never seen or heard him cry before then. That experience scarred my mind.

He had loved my mom with his entire being, so much that he nicknamed her Rubix, culled from her maiden name, Roxanne Bianca. If he could have traded places with her in death, he would have gladly done so.

That was the last most intimate moment we shared together—sitting at the balcony and bawling into the night.

After that night, I kept wondering about what Dad said. If Mom was really in heaven and had become one of those burning stars, I too wanted to reach the stars, to hold them in my palms—to hold Mom again.

I don't know how he did it, but after several years of grit and determination, Dad evolved into one of the most powerful men in Nigeria.

It was a tedious process, as he always complained, that it was almost draining the life out of him. I think his meddling in the convoluted political sphere made that inevitable. The time he devoted to his pursuit—plus the fact that he remarried an icy woman, who is technically my stepmother, based on a contract deal—cut off solid communication between us.

But I shook it off and, claiming to be strong, enrolled in the Aeronautical Academy of Nigeria (AAN) even though I knew he wanted me to follow his footsteps in politics.

One day, over an awkward dinner, the year he was elected president and I was to graduate from the Academy, my father shared his idea with me. "I'm raising funds for the Rubix System," he said, pausing to gauge my reaction.

I stopped cold, shocked by the mention of the pet name he'd so fondly used for Mom when she was alive. “The Rubix system?”

"It's a nationally-operated AI that uses Big Data to curb crime and restructure the nation."

"And, just how do you intend to make this work?" I asked, intrigued despite myself.

"By making all legalised material desires come true," he replied. "And by reconfiguring every citizen’s warped mental perspective—what I call The Cleansing."

Initially, I was skeptical, as many other Nigerians were, but as Rubix delivered results in the economy and education sector, skepticism turned to trust.

Within three years, Nigeria was transformed. Corruption and crime declined drastically, and the nation's GDP soared due to diversified income sources like agriculture, tourism, and foreign exchange, among many others. Nigeria regained its status as the Giant of Africa and became a top world power. Rubix made it all possible.

It’s quite understandable why Dad remains uncomfortable with me jumping on every opportunity to travel to space. It’s somewhat risky. Beyond Rubix's jurisdiction within the Nigerian territory, one can be susceptible to anything.

But, time and again, I have tried to make Dad see the logic behind my safety since Rubix is integrated into the spaceship too.

"Rubix, is everything intact?" I ask as the NAIS-119i coasts freely in space.

Affirmative.

I pull down the lever for artificial gravity, and the weightlessness effect in the spaceship ceases. I move to the nearest oval window and press a gloved palm to it. We will be going out into that vast void soon.

"We should consider making a documentary of these space explorations like the Americans do," Irebo says, coming close behind me.

"We're on serious business here," I say, whipping my head to look at her. "Besides, we don't want to leak our wellness secrets to the outside world, enemies who haven't undergone The Cleansing. Do you know how catastrophic it'll be for Rubix to get into the hands of the wrong people?"

"You sound like you're against Rubix," Umar mutters as he shoves his gadgets into a space bag.

"I'm not against Rubix. I mean, she has made life perfect for every Nigerian. We're the envy of the world, but that's what scares me." Tense silence descends as everyone ruminates on the heavy meaning behind my words.

"Can we just get down to this without wasting much time?" Toluwani says in his signature cool voice, breaking the silence. "You don't want us spending a century up here, do you?"

I repress a chuckle at his dramatic eye roll. I suspect he is simply sulking because his task of manning the ship while the rest of the team is out doing the ‘real work’ isn't as exciting.

"Alright, guys," I say as Umar, Irebo and I kit up in our astronaut gear, "As we proceed to the extravehicular phase, don't forget to activate your helmet’s transceiver while we're floating out there.”

“All clear,” Irebo’s voice filters into my ears via the transceiver. Umar’s response lags at first but soon, after some testing and adjustments, we're good to go.

Tethered with cords to the temporary space station connected to the spaceship, we navigate our way to the Rubix Satellite with the help of the propellers attached to our spacesuits. As we approach, this hulking mass of specialized alloy parts hovers in the vast expanse, silently rotating in sync about its axis.

"Can you still hear me, Rubix?" I say, trying not to be intimidated by the magnitude of the satellite.

Yes. Proceed with maintenance.

Umar begins to scan the entire mass of the Rubix Satellite using the holographic scanner installed into his gloves. He finds a huge chunk of space debris clogged at a section of the left wing, but that isn't the major issue. The worry on his face and the panic in his voice are palpable when he confirms the real problem.

"This is bad."

"What is it?" Irebo asks as she floats closer alongside me to have a better look.

"I don't know how this is possible but it seems the left wing of the satellite has been fried."

I also see it—a gaping hole in the said wing that looks as though a gigantic prong of red-hot coal has burned through it. My mind tries to come up with a logical explanation, to no avail. Using the hyper-sensitive camera installed in my suit to take shots of the problem zone on the satellite, I make records of the extent of the damage.

"Must have been a stray meteor or something," Irebo says.

I shrug. "Could be. But what if this was a deliberate attack from an unknown enemy?"

Irebo's eyes widen. "Aliens?"

"I'm referring to jealous enemy nations, Irebo," I scoff. "Umar, can it be fixed?"

"Unfortunately we don't have all the necessary gadgets to do that because the damage is greater than we envisaged. I can patch it up for now, though. We'll eventually have to come back here again."

Umar goes to work. With our assistance, he untangles the warped metal rods and uses a laser to weld the gaping hole shut.

In the middle of the repairs, I receive a distress call from the ship—a persistent SOS signal beeping in my smart watch. I can't clearly hear what Toluwani is saying over the transceiver but I know something has gone terribly wrong.

"Rubix? Something is wrong with the ship. Toluwani is trying to communicate but I can't hear him. Can you report the status?" I say.

Captain, the ship has breached… an external magnetic field… tampered with the system. You have to leave…

Rubix drones off—an indication that she has gone offline. This is bad timing; Umar is only halfway through with the repairs. How in the Milky Way galaxy am I supposed to handle this?

“Guys, something's off,” I say, after several moments of unsuccessfully trying to reconnect with Rubix.

"What's wrong?" Umar asks casually as he continues welding.

"The ship seems to be under attack. This is a red alert."

"What?" Irebo sounds aghast.

"We need to leave. Now!" I say.

Without asking any further questions, Umar shoves all his gadgets back into his space bag and hooks it to his belt.

As we waddle through space ether to our ship, I crane my neck to see if I can spot anything out of place in this dark region. Nothing suspicious is visible except blinking spots of distant stars and planets.

However, a gnawing sensation of dread fills my veins, and my pulse accelerates. Something malevolent might be lurking out there, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.

If Rubix's Satellite is tampered with, that will be the end of our bliss. Nigeria will be open to attack, and our perfect state will be compromised. I don't want that. I speed up my propellers to hasten my movement into the confines of the spaceship.

“Thank goodness you're back,” Toluwani says after the spaceship’s door shuts securely after us.

"Everyone, take a deep breath," I say, trying to project a calm aura despite the tension thickening the air. "We can handle this."

Toluwani drums his fingers on the control board, looking the most confused I have ever seen him. I walk over to Umar, who is now hunched over the diagnostic panel.

"What's the status, Umar?" I ask, forcing my voice to be steady.

He glances up, eyes wide with concern. "It's indeed a magnetic breach," he says, pointing to the flickering readout on the screen. "And it's not looking pretty. If we leave immediately, we should make it back to Earth unscathed."

I nod, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder before addressing the entire crew. "Alright, everyone, you heard him. Let's get ready to move out. We're heading home."

Everyone shuffles into position, but Toluwani's expression remains distraught as his fingers fly over the controls. "Dang it! Nothing is working as it should… The Rubix system is fluctuating as well," he says.

"We cannot afford to allow fear and uncertainty to cripple us,” I respond. “Now, give it your best shot and let's go!"

Toluwani gives a single nod and initiates the sequence to manually maneuver the spaceship back to Earth.

"We've got this," he murmurs, though the strain in his voice betrays his nerves.

"We need to figure out how the magnetic field affected the spaceship," Umar points out.

Irebo leans forward, her brows furrowing in concentration as she scribbles some calculations on her tablet. "The magnetic field disrupted our navigation and communication systems," she explains, tapping her tablet's screen, "creating an interference that Rubix couldn't immediately compensate for. We need to recalibrate the systems to prevent a reoccurrence."

Toluwani's hands move deftly over the controls. "Irebo, can you guide me through the recalibration process while I keep us on course?"

"On it," she replies, her tone steady. "First, we need to adjust the magnetic dampers. It should help stabilize the interference." Toluwani springs to action.

"What if the recalibration doesn't work?" Umar whispers, his voice tinged with panic.

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it," I say firmly, trying to instill confidence. "For now, let's try this and pray it works."

Minutes feel like hours as Irebo and Toluwani make the necessary adjustments. Finally, Irebo looks up, a hint of a smile on her face. "Recalibration complete. We should be stable now."

"Good work, everyone," I say, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me. "Let's bring this ship home."

As we draw nearer to Earth's orbit, Rubix thankfully comes back online. A sigh of relief escapes my lips, but the lingering tension in the cabin remains palpable as a sudden turbulence rocks the spaceship.

"This turbulence is getting worse!" I rasp.

Captain, I'm trying to compensate for the gravitational pull, but our shields are weakening.

"Weakened shields?" Toluwani says, his voice laced with alarm. "That's not what I want to hear! Can you stabilise the ship?"

Attempting to reroute power to the stabilisers…

My breath hitches as I count the seconds it takes for Rubix to speak again.

Done. But we're experiencing engine failure on portside.

"Rubix, we need those engines to make it through the atmosphere!"

Already on it, Captain. Activating backup engines... Online.

Toluwani sighs. "How's our descent trajectory looking?"

Calculating... We're off-course by 3.7°. I'm adjusting our angle of entry now. There is also an intense heat buildup on our hull… Shields at 20%...

"Hold it together. We're almost there…" I can only imagine the tension that must be building up like an avalanche in Toluwani's nerves as he strains, manoeuvring the control wheel.

Captain, we're re-entering the atmosphere.

"Well done, Rubix," I say, my heart still thrumming hard, "Let's get this ship on the ground safely."

Landing sequence initiated, Captain. Retro rockets deployed for final descent. Welcome back to Earth.

I exhale in tandem with the rest of the crew. Behind us, Umar and Irebo cheer and give each other a loud high-five.

Toluwani reaches out, squeezes my hand and uses his thumb to draw small arcs on the back of my hand. My insides tingle with warmth as I look at him in surprise. He doesn't speak, but I can see the unspoken relief in his eyes and something else I can't seem to decode at the moment. Affection, maybe? Or perhaps the adrenaline rush of the moment is responsible for the fantasy my imagination is conjuring up. After all, this might as well be the first obvious display of feeling he'll be directly showing me.

I attempt to analyse every detail of the mission since I will be required to give a coherent report to the headquarters.

Intrusive thoughts flood my mind—something malevolent might be up there, lurking in the black void, waiting for its prime time to strike its deadly blow. My new short-term ambition is to uncover this unnamed foe and bring it, whatever it is, to its knees. Burning stars don't deter me; they only feed my desire to reach higher.

We arrive unscathed at the NAI headquarters in Victoria Island. I am surprised to spot the President from a distance pacing the front of the majestic NAI building; worry etched on his face.

When I am close enough, unabashed, he takes long strides towards me and holds me tight to his chest. This is unexpected. I guess I should endanger my life more often to get his attention.

"I never should have approved of you leading the ship for this mission. I don't want to lose you too," he says, as he hugs me tighter.

My eyes cursorily scan the area and I notice everyone slowly and politely leaving to give us privacy, except for my stepmother. I bristle, wondering why she is here to witness the arrival of some mundane Space Officers.

Looking annoyed by the public display of warmth between father and daughter, she grudgingly retreats to the background with her stiff gait, glancing at us with her expressionless eyes lined with kohl.

Sometimes, I blame her stoic bitterness and forced pomp on the fact that she is trying hard to hold her head high despite three childless years in her second marriage. I don't hate her but I don't exactly like her.

"I understand, Dad," I say, looking into his eyes.

“So, what was it like up there?”

I want to tell him to wait for my official report but I reconsider. “Rubix might be under threat. We're not really certain what caused the breach,” I say, resisting the urge to run my fingers through my hair.

Dad paces briskly and mutters something imperceptible under his breath.

Trying to quell his panic, I say, “You conceived the Rubix System. I'm sure you'll get this sorted out.”

"It wasn't just me, Princess,” he says, his voice softening. I blink, surprised that he called me by my childhood pet name. “The idea for Rubix was an inspiration from your adventurous spirit. I only wish I had been more serious and gotten it done before your mother passed."

I gingerly touch his shoulder and say, "Dad, I'm sure Mom’s star twinkles down on you in delight. You've done quite well in governing this nation so far. Rubix must not fail now. We'll find a way to sort this out. Together."

He beams, his eyes twinkling with a glossy sheen. “I think Roxanne will be more proud of the woman you've become.” I allow the compliment to wash over me like a balm.

"Um, I was thinking,” he begins, seemingly nervous, “Well, since you suggested we brainstorm together. For ideas to fix Rubix, I mean. What do you say about a picnic?"

Stunned by the once-in-a-purple-moon offer, I remain speechless. The silence stretches into awkward territory. Dad clears his throat.

“I’ll totally understand if you'll be too busy for such frivolity, especially at such a critical time. But I think it's high time we both relaxed from our responsibilities and spent time together.” He pauses to draw in a deep breath. “I know I'm poor at expressing it, but… I've missed you.” His voice breaks and a warm feeling spreads in the cavity of my chest.

Outwardly, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I say, "I'm all in. I have one condition though. We must have this picnic at night. Under the stars."

Dad shakes his head and chuckles. "Alright then. A wonderful picnic vigil tonight with my brave princess."

“No bodyguards. No meddling from you-know-who.”

Dad rolls his eyes at my reference to my stepmother. “That's three conditions, Princess.”

I shrug.

“Fine, fine. No bodyguards. Just you and me. You've chosen a perfect time.”

“Deal.”

I stretch my hand to shake on it, but Dad pulls me into his warm embrace once more. This time, I allow myself to savour the sensation of being wrapped in his arms.

As I deeply inhale his musky scent, I can already sense the first set of tiles bridging the chasm that has grown between us over the years. I smile, thinking that, at least, something good has emerged from the whole saga of Rubix's satellite's mysterious damage and my dangerous mission to the stars.