Destiny Among the Stars - Scifi - LitRPG - Adventure

"The universe is under no obligation to make sense to you."

– Neil deGrasse Tyson

The smell hit Luca before he even reached the mess hall: bacon fat crackling in a pan, the rich aroma of real eggs cooking, bread toasting to golden perfection. His stomach clenched with sudden, desperate hunger, reminding him that coffee and adrenaline weren't actually food groups. The scent was so unexpected, so completely normal after everything they'd been through, that he stopped dead in the corridor.

"Holy shit," Luca breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Is that actual food?"

Emily bumped into his back, her hand catching his shoulder to steady herself. "It smells like..." She paused, inhaling deeply. "Like home."

They stepped into the mess hall, and Luca had to blink twice to make sure he wasn't hallucinating from exhaustion. The space had been completely transformed. Gone were the towering stacks of crates and boxes that had made the room look like a shipping warehouse. The floor was clear, the table properly assembled and surrounded by eight chairs that actually matched. Emergency lighting had been replaced with normal illumination, casting everything in warm, golden tones instead of harsh red.

But it was the galley that made Luca's chest tight with something he couldn't quite name. Joey stood at the cooking station, his red ponytail swinging as he worked over a large griddle, spatula in one hand and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder like he'd been born to feed people. Steam rose from the pan in front of him, carrying the smell of bacon and eggs that made his mouth water.

"Where the hell did you get real food?" Luca asked, moving closer to get a better look.

Joey grinned over his shoulder, his freckled face flushed from the heat of cooking. "Your dad's crew loaded us up with groceries during the panic. Found it all packed in the cold storage bay, bacon, eggs, bread, coffee, even some of that fancy butter Emily likes. The quartermaster must have grabbed what he could from before we boarded."

Chris appeared from behind a storage cabinet, his arms full of plates and utensils. Even exhausted, he managed to look effortlessly put-together, his black hair perfectly tousled and his uniform somehow less rumpled than everyone else's. "Figured we deserved a real meal after nearly dying six different ways today."

"Six?" Ryan called from where he was slumped in one of the chairs, his hair, which used to be a golden blonde and was now black with soot, sticking up at odd angles. "I count at least eight. Electrical fire, oxygen failure, plasma thruster malfunction, asteroid impact, mystery shuttles, tracker hunt, maintenance tunnel claustrophobia, and whatever the hell that noise was that turned out to be Chris dropping a bolt."

Danny looked up from where he'd been absently tracing patterns on the table surface with his finger, his dark eyes still slightly unfocused with fatigue. "Don't forget the reactor startup that almost turned us into a small sun."

"That was artistic license," Ryan protested, but he was grinning. "Controlled fusion is a beautiful thing when it works properly."

"And terrifying as hell when it doesn't," Zoe muttered from her chair, where she sat slouched with her chin propped on her hand. Her dark eyes were heavy with exhaustion, and Luca could see the way she was fighting to stay awake. The adrenaline crash had hit her hard.

"How did you guys manage to clear all this out?" Luca asked, gesturing at the transformed space.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," Chris replied, sliding the plates around the table. "While you and Emily were playing house in the cabins, the rest of us turned this place into something resembling civilization. Took about two hours to move everything to proper storage."

"Playing house?" Emily's voice carried just enough edge to make Chris's grin falter slightly.

"Figure of speech," he said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "No offense intended."

Luca caught the slight flush that crept up Emily's neck, the way her eyes flicked toward him and then away. There was something there, some tension that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but this wasn't the time or place to examine it too closely.

Joey started transferring food from the griddle to serving platters, the bacon still sizzling and the eggs perfectly over-easy with bright yellow yolks that looked like tiny suns. The toast was golden brown, butter melting into every corner, and there was even a bowl of fresh fruit that must have cost a fortune to ship up from Earth.

"Come on, everyone sit," Joey said, pointing his spatula at the table. "Food's getting cold, and after the day we've had, we deserve this."

They gathered around the table, and for a moment, it felt almost normal. Like they were just a group of friends sharing a meal instead of a crew of twenty-year-olds flying through space in a half-finished ship while running from corporate saboteurs. The chairs were comfortable, the lighting was warm, and the smell of real food made everything seem possible.

"Seriously, though," Ryan said around a mouthful of toast, "this is just what the doctor ordered. Breakfast at midnight, after a 22-hour day."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Don't let it go to his head. Joey's still the same guy who used to practice his 'cooking face' in the mirror."

"I did NOT—" Joey started.

"You absolutely did," Danny continued, putting on an exaggerated serious expression. "'The secret ingredient is love,'" he said in a mock-deep voice.

Zoe threw a piece of toast at Danny. "You're terrible. This is amazing, Joey. Don't listen to your bratty little brother."

"I'm only two years younger!" Danny protested.

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Emily settled into the chair beside Luca, their shoulders brushing as she reached for the butter. "This is good," she said, taking her first bite of eggs. "Really good. Joey, where did you learn to cook like this?"

Joey's face went slightly red, and he ducked his head in a way that made him look younger than his twenty-two years. "My dad taught me before... well, before. He always said that knowing how to feed people was the most important skill anyone could have."

The table went quiet for a moment, everyone understanding what he meant by "before." Before the system. Before he had turned into a tyrant. Before he was hung off a noose. Before some of them lost people they couldn't afford to lose.

"He was right," Luca said, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "Despite, you know."

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of cutlery against plates mixing with the distant hum of the ship's systems. Luca's body felt heavy with exhaustion, muscles finally starting to relax now that they weren't in immediate crisis mode. The food was warm and filling, and for the first time since they'd been dragged out of bed this morning, he felt almost human.

"Alright," Luca said finally, pushing back from the table. "I think it's time we all got some sleep. Real sleep, in actual beds, without the sound of alarms going off every five minutes."

There was a general murmur of agreement, and everyone slowly rose from their chairs. Chris and Joey started clearing the plates, working together with the ease of people who'd known each other for years. Ryan stretched and yawned, already shuffling toward the door.

"Eight hundred hours tomorrow," Luca announced. "We'll meet on the bridge and start getting this ship properly organized."

"Eight hundred?" Ryan groaned. "That's only like six hours of sleep."

"Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep," Emily corrected. "No electrical fires, no oxygen alarms, no tracker hunts. Just sleep."

"I'll take it," Zoe mumbled, already heading for the door.

One by one, the crew drifted away toward their cabins, leaving Emily and Luca alone in the mess hall. She was still sitting at the table, her hands wrapped around her coffee mug, staring out the porthole at the slowly spinning stars.

"You okay?" Luca asked, settling back into his chair.

"Yeah," she said, but her voice was soft and distant. "Just thinking about everything that happened today. This morning feels like a lifetime ago."

"I know what you mean." Luca looked around the transformed mess hall, at the empty plates and the lingering smell of bacon.

She smiled, that warm expression that made everything seem manageable. "Its good, though."

Luca nodded, feeling the weight of the day finally settling on his shoulders. His eyes were heavy, and the warmth of the food was making him drowsy. But he didn't want to move, didn't want to break this moment of quiet companionship.

"Come on," Emily said eventually, standing and extending her hand. "We both need sleep before we fall over."

Luca took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. Her fingers were warm and steady, and for a moment they stood there together in the quiet mess hall, surrounded by the gentle hum of their ship carrying them toward the stars.

Luca's cabin door hissed shut, and suddenly, the quiet wasn't about comfort. Alpha Centauri wasn't just a destination anymore; it was a tightrope, and he was about to step onto it, blindfolded.

See, this whole Alpha Centauri trip? It wasn't just some random Sunday drive. It was riding on the back of something insane that happened a couple of years back. Venus. Level 60 portal. That's where they found the first FTL drive. An honest-to-god, warp-speed engine, if you believed the description.

The United Earth Republic snapped it up for a pile of credits that'd make your eyes water, and last he heard, the eggheads in Geneva were still trying to figure out how it even worked.

Venus went nuts after that. Suddenly, everyone and their mom were adventurers, tripping over each other to find another FTL drive. The portal where the first one popped? Single-use, gone. Typical.

But the Interstellar Frontier Company, Karen's company, they're quick on the uptake. They slapped an outpost down on Venus faster than you could say 'atmospheric pressure is a bitch.' Venus is Venus, though. Harsh doesn't even cover it. But the IFC? They're all about planning and logistics. Suddenly, hitting portals on Venus became… well, not easy, but routine. Still, the level of difficulty? Astronomical.

His team, having been part of the IFC since the early days, they got the VIP pass to the base, running Venus portals like they were going out of style. Which, some of them probably were. Even with the IFC hookup, they were elbowing for portal time with every other high level team in the IFC. Hundreds of crews, all scrambling for the same thing.

The portal where they finally scored their FTL drive? Straight up hellscape. No exaggeration. They'd run portals all over Venus, waited their turn in the queue more times than he could count, and finally hit the jackpot. FTL drive in hand, they practically shoved it under Karen and Michael's noses at the IFC and told them they were bidding for the Alpha Centauri charter. Convincing them wasn't exactly a walk in the park. But they had the FTL drive. And Dad? Athan Rossi? He actually committed to building them a ship.

The bidding war for the charter was a whole other level of hell. Karen and Michael going head-to-head with Orion Horizons, Titan Dynamics, and a whole damn shitload of corporations. Were there more FTL drives floating around? Nobody was broadcasting their portal drops or tech finds, but damn, they were putting on a show. There must have been thirty of forty outposts in Venus by the time they scored. IFC pulled out all the stops, influence, resources, the works. And somehow, they actually won. Charter secured. FTL drive in hand. Boom. Suddenly, they were actually doing this Alpha Centauri thing.

First order of business? Creating the Triumph Initiative. Their own company, but technically a subsidiary of Karen's IFC. Basically, inheriting all the sweet perks and freedoms that come with being a system-sanctioned adventuring company before the founding of the UER. It basically meant they were not dependent on the government rescinding their status or under their purview. Which, you know, is kind of important when you have your own priorities. It wasn't that they didn't love humanity or earth, but the UER, like every government, had its own priorities.

And that charter win? It felt like a victory, sure, but it was also a ticking time bomb. Karen had bet the solar system. And the chips were all in, riding on them. Hyperion profits, Kuiper Belt rights, even the Venus outpost leased at cost. All of it gone, traded away, just to secure this damn charter. And the Genesis Platform, Dad's shipyard? It wasn't just IFC risking credits. Dad had poured his heart, soul, and a hell of a lot of resources into upgrading his drydocks to build the Triumph. This was Dad's legacy.

Luca's ship wasn't just some off-the-shelf freighter; it was custom-built, cutting edge, a flagship for his yard. If they pulled this off, if they actually brought back the data the UER was demanding? The Genesis Platform would be set. Dad would be set, finally breathing easy, commissions flooding in, pushing back against the corporate sharks circling his yard.

But failure? If they came back empty-handed, or worse… The thought alone made Luca's gut twist. Karen would be in the UER's crosshairs, Genesis would be teetering on the brink of collapse, and Dad… beyond the platform, beyond the business, there was just him. And Luca knew, deep down, that another loss, another empty space at his table, was something he couldn't weather. This wasn't just about their team anymore. This was about everything he held dear.

Luca leaned back in his bed, his eyes drawn to the porthole. The vast expanse of black, punctuated only by the distant pinpricks of stars, seemed to stretch on forever. Out there, somewhere, lay the Oort Cloud, and beyond that, Alpha Centauri. A low hum vibrated through the deck, a constant reminder of the powerful engines that were carrying them further and further from home.

The picture frame on his desk was slightly crooked. He reached out and adjusted it, aligning it perfectly with the edge of the desk.

Mom.

Dad.

Matteo.

Alessio.

All smiling back at him, frozen in a moment of happiness from a lifetime ago.

An intense feeling of longing washed over him, so strong it almost took his breath away.