On Earth, an Aurora Borealis was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever witnessed. Northern cold nipped at my cheeks as I stared in wonder at the magical sky. My girlfriend’s mittened hands grasped mine and wonder mixed with love to create a warmth even the frigid air couldn’t permeate.

Here, in a place even colder than that northern winter, it was sad. Pathetic.

I watched as the aurora swirled around the jar like a captured insect. It bashed itself against the glass again and again. Outside the ship’s window was an infinite dark expanse, made darker by our capturing of the Entity.

The Entity pounded against its container. Then, it stilled. It trembled. My hands clasped over my ears in preparation for what would come next. A loud, siren-like screech blasted from the jar as the Entity grew more frantic. It whirled around the jar, and even after so many missions a part of me was terrified that it might escape– and what would happen if it did.

I picked up the jar. We were supposed to use gloves when handling Entities, but there wasn’t any real reason besides it felt like a good protocol to have. Something common sense, something you might regret not doing if something were to happen. But the jars prevented any radiation or other unsavory things from leaking out, so I never wore them. My crewmates thought I was crazy, but I thought they were crazy too. Fair’s fair.

“You know-” A stupid, annoying feminine voice sounded from behind me.

“Yeah, gloves or whatever.” I twisted the jar around in my hand. The Entity suddenly thrust itself against the side and I tightened my grip to keep from dropping it.

“I was going to say you’re not supposed to keep those things in here. We grab them, then put them straight into containment. Dilly dallying just leaves room for mistakes.” Beck crossed her arms. She was the tallest of the women on the ship- at six feet even she was only a couple inches shorter than myself. Mike resented her for being taller and tougher than himself, which only made me like her more. I had a healthy respect for her opinion. Unfortunately for her, respect doesn’t always equal deference. I wasn’t sure there was anything that could make me defer to anyone. It’s hard not to put your own opinion above others when you’re always right.

“You know I treat them with care, B. I like to look, that’s all.”

“I haven’t done anything to stop you, I’m just throwing it out there.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

She shrugged, then opened the panel to her ‘secret’ compartment and pulled out a bottle of scotch. We weren’t supposed to have alcohol on these missions, but we all quietly agreed that was stupid as shit, so Beck had her secret compartment and we all kept it secret in exchange for getting to siphon some of that ambrosia for ourselves.

“Like I said, I haven’t stopped you.” She took a swig straight from the bottle. It might’ve been impressive, even hot, if it wasn’t for the fact a week ago Mike had tried to do something similar, then gagged and spit it back into the bottle. I cringed, but decided it was better not to say anything.

“I’ll put it away now, this one’s annoying.” I held the jar up and jostled it around. The Entity screeched loudly enough the jar began to tremble. She flinched and covered her ears.

“Christ of the Cosmos, don’t do that Wreak!”

I shrugged her off and opened the Container, a translucent plastic box meant both for containing Entities and observing them. I’m sure the engineers did their best, but it would be worthless if an Entity actually escaped their jar and everyone knows it. It isn’t worth talking about since Entities have to be contained and complaining about the Container won’t make the scientific breakthrough of capturing Entities come any faster. I lock it, then sit on the couch. The thumping sound of the Borealis gets muffled by the Container, but not silenced entirely.

“Well, I’m heading to bed.” I stretch my arms above my head.

“Suit yourself.” Beck takes another swig of her spittle-ridden scotch.

Even as I walk to my room, I hear the sound of the Entity trying to escape. Futilely, we can only hope.