FTL Speed Limit

Malcolm shot awake, banging his helmet against the glass windshield above him. Laying back in his leather seat, he removed his gloved hands from the single joystick just below his crotch. His hands floated freely while the rest of his body was still strapped in. He looked out of his ship to see an emerald green planet with strange looking satellites floating around it and enormous spaceships coming and going from the planet. It was a lot to take in for poor Malcolm.

"Command, are you getting this? Command?" Malcolm called over his radio. No response was returned. "Where am I?"

Suddenly something knocked on the glass. Malcolm turned his head and floating next to his small pod ship was an orange alien dressed in a blue spacesuit similar to Malcolm's and held a tan rod in its seven fingered glove. The alien rapped on the window again. "Roll down your window, sir."

Malcolm's breathing became shallow and fast. A real live alien. He was unable to stop looking at the alien's eyes, which looked like Earth's moon surrounded by black space. 

"Sir, roll down your window."

Malcolm shook his head, unable to hear what the alien was saying.

The alien stuck his rod into the crease between the glass and the body of the ship, lifting the glass away from the ship. Malcolm held on to the straps on his seat and dug his heels in. He looked down briefly to make sure his white spacesuit didn't have any breaches. The aliens tossed a silver disk to Malcolm that stuck to his helmet like a magnet.

"Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?" the alien's voice rumbled in Malcolm's helmet.

"You pulled me over?"

The alien pointed its rod at him. "Don't be a smartass with me."

"What's going on? Where am I?"

"I caught you going FTL in residential space. I need to see your license and registration."

"License? Registration?"

"Sir, don't test me today. Give me your license and registration."

"I don't have any."

"Okay sir, get out of the vehicle.”

Malcolm shook his head. "I can't."

"Sir, get out of the vehicle," the alien raised its voice.

Malcolm reached for the glass in front of him. The alien slammed it’s rod down on Malcolm's forearms and ripped him out of his seat, snapping the seat straps with ease. Malcolm winced in pain, but kept his voice to a dull mumble. The alien pushed Malcolm against the ship and proceeded to handcuff him.

"Alright sir, you are under arrest for failure to comply with a Galactic Officer's lawful order. Additional charges include failure to produce license and registration, reckless endangerment, and resisting arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say and don't say will be used against you. You have a right to ask for a trial, but you must provide your own attorney. If you cannot afford one, you have one day to prepare your own case. Do you understand your rights?”

"This is a big misunderstanding. I'm a test pilot from Earth."

"They all say that," the alien said. The alien touched its own helmet and spoke. "Twelve Niner David to Dispatch, contact Impound. I have a small ship at Quadrant Seven that needs pickup. One in custody.”

"Copy. Impound en route. Head to Sector Five for prisoner processing," a voice responded.

The alien floated back to its sleek blue, white, and orange fighter ship with Malcolm. Malcolm looked back at his own ship. It floated there mocking him. Reminding him that there was a cost to greatness. That sacrifices must be made for progress.