Drugs and alcohol not allowed on manned space missions, especially when they were long jumps like these, voyaging from one planet to the next, transporting goods or delivering messages. But we were “privateers,” or so we called ourselves. We weren’t technically in the military, but they paid us to carry out their missions, especially the under-the-table dealings.

Consequentially, Kara seemed to feel safe bringing four liters of vodka and an four ounces of top-shelf cannabis on our flight.

I didn’t typically indulge in either substance, preferring to stay alert in case of trouble. But this flight was different. This time we were riding 6 weeks on rails, no signs of life for hundreds of thousands of kilometers. And we were passing our time with Regular Poker.

So, I drank a little. (PRO-TIP: In zero-g, use straws.)

And I smoked a little.

Perhaps a little more.

Hell, why not…

Well, ladies and gentlemen, apparently that’s when the beast inside me stirs.