Destiny Among the Stars - Scifi - LitRPG - Adventure

The vibration of the ship deepened as the ship went through the final slowdown procedures. The FTL drive was winding down as the Triumph of Darron decelerated into the Alpha Centauri system. The team was assembled, each one at their stations.

His interface lit up:

"Anything on the signal?" Luca asked, not bothering to mask the tension in his voice.

Zoe didn't look up from her console. "Nothing since that ripple two days ago." She paused. "But that doesn't mean it's gone."

"I'm telling you," Ryan said. "It was probably just an anomaly. Nothing could have gotten through the shielding."

Luca leaned back in the captain's chair, one leg crossed casually over the other, projecting an air of easy command he was nowhere close to feeling. Inside, his heart was doing frantic cartwheels. This was it: the edge of the next frontier.

All that waiting, all that prep, and now they were here. A cold knot of fear tightened in his gut, a feeling far stronger than any excitement. But they had made it. No fiery explosions, no getting lost in the Oort Cloud. That had to count for something.

His eyes focused beyond the main viewport where the stars of Alpha Centauri hung like distant jewels. Proxima Centauri was barely visible, a lonely red dot in the void. Alpha Centauri A and B were mere pinpricks, separated by distances his brain refused to process. It was... underwhelming.

Not the brilliant fireworks display sci-fi movies promised. Still, they were the first humans to see this with their own eyes.

Then Joey's voice shattered the tension like a cannonball. "Finally, some real stars!" he exclaimed.

Always the dramatics with that guy, Luca thought, rolling his eyes but keeping the comment to himself. This was a monumental deal, even if he sounded like an over-caffeinated teenager.

The energy caught fire around the bridge. Zoe exhaled loudly and unbuckled herself from her chair. "Holy shit, we're here," she muttered, running a hand through her dreadlocks.

She spun around, her eyes searching for someone to share the moment with, and landed on Ryan, who was still focused on his console. "Ryan!" she practically screamed, throwing her arms around him before he could react.

"We made it, Ry," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder, raw with emotion. Ryan hesitated for just a second before wrapping an arm around her awkwardly, a surprised grin crossing his face.

Before Luca could react, Emily was out of her chair and wrapping her arms around him. Her embrace was fierce, desperate, almost. He could feel her trembling slightly, the weight of everything they'd accomplished hitting her all at once.

"We actually did it," she whispered against his ear. Her breath was warm against his neck, trembling with emotion he rarely heard from her.

For a moment, the bridge chaos faded away. It was just them, just this moment of shared triumph and relief. Luca's arms came up automatically, holding her close, then she pulled back slightly, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her bright eyes searching his, their noses just shy of brushing.

Luca didn't move. Couldn't. The space between them had vanished, every breath shared. Her eyes flicked down to his lips, then back up.

One inch closer and they'd fall into it.

Joey's voice cut through their moment. "Alright, you two, get a room! Some of us are trying to make history over here!"

Emily pulled back, laughing despite the tears in her eyes, but her hands lingered on Luca's shoulders for just a beat longer. Their eyes met, and for a second, he saw something raw and unguarded in her expression before she stepped back, that familiar professional mask sliding back into place.

Luca's heart was still racing, his skin still tingling where she'd touched him. They'd almost—Christ, they'd almost kissed! Right here, right now, and it would have been so easy. She'd been right there, looking at him like that, and every signal she'd been sending told him what he'd hoped but barely dared to believe: there was no one else. No complications. Just them.

He watched her return to her station, noting the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear; something she only did when she was flustered. The realization hit him like a physical weight: she wanted this too. Had been waiting for him to figure it out, to make the move.

The question wasn't whether they both wanted it; that much was crystal clear now. The question was timing. They were best friends first, partners in leading this crew, and that foundation mattered too much to rush. When they finally had that conversation, when they finally crossed that line, he wanted to do it right.

They'd earned this moment of celebration. But even as he smiled, watching his crew revel in their impossible achievement, part of him was already thinking ahead to the next conversation he'd have with Emily. The one they'd been dancing around for months.

As the celebration ebbed, Zoe drifted back to her station. Luca caught the flicker of hesitation in her expression as she looked at the stars on her display. For all the crew's excitement, the reality of the system's vastness was sinking in.

Over 800 AUs from Proxima Centauri, and far further from Rigil Kentaurus and Toliman, the three stars were little more than points of light. They had known this, of course, but knowing and seeing were two different things.

Ryan, ever perceptive, leaned toward Zoe. His blonde hair caught the light as he spoke softly. "It's not what we expected, but look at what we've done. We're here, Zoe. We made it." The guy always knew what to say.

Luca knew the navigational briefings had been clear: the stars wouldn't dominate the sky or appear in dramatic proximity to one another. But knowing it logically didn't make the sight any less underwhelming. The reality was sinking in, even for him. This was it, and he didn't know how to feel about it. It was amazing, but… also a little bit terrifying.

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He adjusted his console, pretending not to notice their moment. He was jealous. She'll be fine, he thought. We all will. This is just the first step. He needed to tell himself that, too. Luca glanced back at the stars ahead, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing on him. This system was vast, too vast for one ship to explore entirely in their limited time. Every decision from here on would matter, and every mistake would cost them dearly. The responsibility was starting to sink in.

Before he could dwell on it too much, he decided to check his interface. It had been weeks, and a small, hopeful part of him figured that maybe the change in system would trigger something. He focused, bringing up his status screen. His eyes immediately went to the skill queue. Still inactive. He checked his experience. Nothing. He blinked, then checked again. Nothing. A wave of confusion, then frustration, washed over him. "What the fuck?" he muttered under his breath.

Emily, seated beside him, reached over and squeezed his hand, her fingers warm and steady. It was such a simple gesture, but it made his chest tighten in a good way. He turned to her, catching the faint smile tugging at her lips. She didn't say anything, just let the gesture speak for her. It helped, more than he wanted to admit.

"Danny," he called over his shoulder, his tone neutral, almost impatient. "Turn on the screen. Let's see what we're dealing with."

There was a pause. Too long. He twisted in his chair, eyebrows raised. "Danny?"

Danny jerked like he'd been caught stealing cookies from the jar, his datapad clutched awkwardly in his hands. His eyes darted from Ryan and Zoe back to him, wide and a little panicked. "What? Oh, yeah, sorry. On it," he stammered, fumbling to bring the interface online.

Luca didn't miss the way Danny's eyes checked out Zoe for a second longer than it should have, or the faint pink creeping up his neck. It was almost funny, really. He'd been watching them, and Luca couldn't blame him. The way Zoe and Ryan had been leaning into each other, sharing that quiet moment, it was hard not to notice. But Danny? He looked like he'd just been caught watching something he shouldn't, and that made it so much better.

"Focus, Danny," Luca said, smirking despite himself as he turned back to his screen. "We're not here to sightsee." He was trying to distract himself from the fact that his skill queue wasn't working. It didn't make any sense.

"Right. Got it," Danny mumbled, his voice a little higher than usual as he began the deployment sequence. "Ryan, I need you on the primary array extension."

Ryan immediately shifted from his moment with Zoe, all business now. "Copy that. Initiating primary deployment sequence." Luca could feel a subtle vibration through the ship's hull as mechanical systems came to life.

"Telescopic arrays extending," Ryan reported, his voice steady and professional. "Port and starboard sensor masts deploying... looking good. Full extension in thirty seconds."

Danny was hunched over his station now, completely focused. "I'm bringing the main dish online first, then we'll get the secondary sensors calibrated. The gravitational lensing from the subspace exit might have thrown off our baseline readings."

"Main dish is locked and tracking," Ryan confirmed. "Signal strength looks clean. No interference from the drive residuals."

Emily's hand stayed on Luca's for a moment longer, her thumb brushing lightly against his knuckles before she withdrew. This star system was already full of surprises, but at least he wasn't navigating it alone.

"Perfect," Danny said, as he worked on his controls. "Activating primary sensor sweep now. This should give us basic positioning data on the major bodies in the system."

The viewport remained dark for a moment, then soft lines and markers began to blink to life, outlining the positions of Proxima Centauri and Alpha Centauri A and B. Data streamed in beside the stars; distances, orbital details, and basic spectral analysis.

"There we go," Danny said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "We've got basic mapping. The system's pretty much as expected from the Earth-based observations, but now we're getting real-time data."

Luca squinted at the display. Still just dots, he thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Well, at least now we know which dots are ours. All that effort, all that tension, for a couple of damn dots on the screen.

The crew returned to their stations, their chatter quieter now, like they were still processing what this meant. The buzz wasn't gone; it was just different, muted, but charged. No one said it out loud, but he could feel it. This was something bigger than they could grasp.

"Hey," Luca said, his voice a little louder than he intended. "Has anyone checked their interface?" The question hung in the air, and he could feel the shift in the atmosphere on the bridge. Everyone looked at him, a few faces already reflecting the same confusion he was feeling.

Emily frowned as she brought up her own interface. "What's wrong?"

"My skill status still shows inactive," Luca said, the words laced with disbelief. "And nowhere to apply XP, even if I had any to apply."

The effect was immediate. A wave of murmurs rippled through the bridge as the rest of the crew accessed their own interfaces. He could see the same realization dawning on their faces, the same mix of confusion and frustration.

"Oh, come ON!" Chris slammed his hand on his console. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"Chris, chill—" Zoe started, but then her face went pale as she checked her own screen. "Oh shit."

"What?" Ryan spun around. "Zoe, what's—"

"We're still capped, Ry. We're still fucking capped!"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, looking just as frustrated as the rest of them. "I mean, we all hoped it would, but there was never any real indication that just... being here would do it. We were all just assuming." His voice carried the same disappointment they all felt. "Perhaps we read too much into it."

"Maybe it takes time?" Chris offered, but his voice lacked conviction. They all knew the system didn't work like that.

Then, because he could always be counted on to say the absolute worst thing at the worst time, Joey added, "Or maybe we were wrong. Maybe just getting here doesn't do shit. Maybe there's some other hidden mechanic we're missing."

Luca wanted to punch him. Right in his stupid, pragmatic face. "Thanks, Joey," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's exactly what we needed to hear. You know, besides the whole mapping and surveying thing, and getting paid, the whole fucking point of coming here was to level up. To get that tingle, that little rush. You know, that feeling we haven't had in what, almost two years?" He could feel the anger rising in his chest, and it had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with frustration.

Ryan, ever the optimist, chimed in, "Maybe we just need to, you know, use our skills. Get things moving." He gestured vaguely with his hands, like he was physically demonstrating the activation process. "Shake off the rust."

"Dude." Zoe gave him the same look she used to give him in sophomore biology when he'd insist that whales were fish because they lived in water. "I've been navigating us through literal deep space for three weeks. If that doesn't count as 'using skills,' I don't know what does."

"So... combat skills?" Danny said, his eyes drifting towards the door, then back at them. "That's how we unlocked the system to begin with, right? Maybe that's what it takes?"

A dramatic silence fell over the bridge. Luca could hear the proverbial pin drop. They were in a new system, millions of miles from home, and the skill system was still frozen. They were still capped. A sense of unease, bordering on panic, began to spread among the crew. This wasn't just an inconvenience; it was a serious problem. They relied on those skills, on that progression. And on that rush. That little jolt of pleasure that came with every new level, every skill up. They were junkies, in a way, and right now, they were all going through withdrawal. Stuck, with nowhere to go and no way to grow.

Luca let his eyes drift back to the viewport, taking in Proxima Centauri and its distant siblings. No dazzling bursts of light, no cosmic drama. Just tiny points against an endless, indifferent black. Not exactly the fireworks show we'd all secretly hoped for, huh? But that's the universe for you. Cold, quiet, and a hell of a lot bigger than they were. Still, they were in it, for real.

It was terrifying. And amazing. And it was all on him now. He gripped the armrest a little tighter, trying to keep his nerves in check.

There's no turning back from this.

We made it, we're here.

Now it's time to make it count.

But how were they supposed to do that if they couldn't even level up?