Destiny Among the Stars - Scifi - LitRPG - Adventure

Luca pushed himself up from the console, Emily's steadying hand on his arm. The trembling in his hands was slowing, and he forced himself to breathe deeply, to think like a captain instead of a nineteen-year-old who'd just watched ships die. His crew needed him to be functional.

"Easy," Emily murmured, her voice soft.

He straightened up slowly, his back aching from where he'd hit the deck. The bridge stretched out around him, all harsh emergency lighting and flashing warning displays. The smell of smoke was still lingering in the air. Every breath felt like work.

"Status report," Luca said, his voice coming out calmer than he'd expected.

Ryan looked up from where he'd been hunched over a diagnostic panel, his face streaked with grease and exhaustion. "Thrusters are stable," he reported. "We're maintaining full burn, but the power distribution is still sketchy as hell. Could lose it at any moment."

Danny was slumped against the wall, his white uniform made his red hair look like flame in the emergency lighting. His freckled face was pale with fatigue, but his eyes were alert. "Life support is holding. Air recycling is at eighty percent and climbing. We're good for now."

The Mission Charter notification chose that moment to pulse in his interface, a gentle blue glow that felt almost mocking. He blinked it open, the familiar text blurring past his vision like a reminder of everything they'd signed up for.

Pending. Right. Because they were still technically in the asteroid belt, still technically in Sol System, still technically running for their lives from forces that wanted to take everything they'd worked for. The irony wasn't lost on Luca that their first checkpoint required them to leave the system while the UER was actively trying to prevent exactly that.

He forced himself to focus on the crew. Zoe was still at the navigation console, her dark eyes fixed on the sensor display with the kind of intensity that suggested she was seeing things the rest of them were missing. Her uniform was pristine except for a few grease stains on the sleeves from their earlier repair work, but there was something in her posture that spoke of bone-deep exhaustion.

"How far out are we?" Luca asked her.

"Still in the belt," she replied without looking up. "But we're making good time. Another six hours at this burn rate and we'll clear the outer markers. After that, it's open space to the Kuiper Belt, then we align to the Oort Cloud Passage."

His thoughts drifted back to Genesis Platform, to Dad and Matteo and Alessio. Were they safe? Had the UER forces that Dad mentioned actually taken control of the shipyard, or had he managed to keep them at bay? The last transmission had cut off so abruptly, and the static had been so thick, that he couldn't be sure of anything.

The image of those shuttles dissolving into plasma kept flashing behind his eyes, bright and terrible and final. He'd killed people today. That fact sat in his stomach like a cold stone, heavy and indigestible. They'd been coming for them, sure, but they'd probably had families, friends, people who were waiting for them to come home.

"Captain's log," Luca muttered under his breath, the familiar phrase helping to center him somehow. "Today I became a killer."

"Hey." Emily's voice cut through his spiral. "Stop that."

He looked at her, surprised by the force in her voice.

"You're not a killer," she said firmly. "You're a captain who made the choice to protect his crew. There's a difference."

Chris looked up from where he'd been working on a power coupling. "She's right, you know. Those shuttles were armed. They weren't coming to give us a speeding ticket."

Their words didn't erase the image of the explosion. But they were an anchor. He straightened, pushing away from the console. They came for us. They came for my crew. The thought solidified in his mind, a piece of hard, cold resolve forming where the guilt had been. This wasn't different. It just wore human faces.

He found himself wandering the ship's corridors, following familiar routes he'd traveled hundreds of times while moving cargo and equipment during construction. But the Triumph felt different now, scarred by the electrical fire, stressed by the life support failure, marked by the violence of misfired thrusters. This wasn't the ship he'd helped build; this was something harder, more real. Eventually, his feet carried him to the mess hall.

It had been almost twelve hours since they left the Genesis Platform, and the mess hall was… a mess, every surface covered with sealed crates and boxes that had been thrown aboard in those final frantic minutes before the UER arrived. Luca paused just inside the doorway, scanning the chaos. What should have been their communal space looked more like a warehouse.

He felt lightheaded as his stomach tightened. It wasn't the clutter. It was the reminder of how close they'd come to losing everything.

Emergency rations were mixed with scientific equipment, and personal belongings were tangled up with spare parts for systems Luca couldn't even identify.

"This is depressing," Joey said, kicking at a box labeled 'Atmospheric Sample Containers' that had somehow ended up next to a large box that read 'Pasta'. "We've got a five-hundred-million-credit starship, and we're living like refugees."

Luca didn't say anything, just rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Refugees. That word hit a little too close to home.

"Come on, come on," muttered Ryan, tossing aside a box of water recycling filters. "I know I saw it somewhere..."

Luca leaned against the bulkhead and let his legs breathe. Every muscle in his body felt like it had been rung out like a soaked towel.

"What are you looking for?" Joey asked, settling onto the floor with his back against a crate marked 'Emergency Medical Supplies.'

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"The most important piece of equipment on this entire ship," he replied, diving deeper into a storage locker. "More important than the fusion reactor, more important than the FTL drive, more important than life support itself."

Luca cracked a tired smile. That was Ryan, all fire and misdirection.

Then Ryan emerged triumphant, holding a coffee percolator in one hand and a case of Folgers in the other, grinning like he'd just discovered the secrets of the universe.

Luca actually laughed, short and raw, the kind that started in the chest and caught him off guard. Maybe he really was that tired.

"Coffee," Emily breathed, and there was something almost religious in her voice. "Oh my god, actual coffee."

The reaction from the crew was immediate and profound. Zoe actually smiled, not her usual smirk, but a genuine expression of joy that transformed her entire face. Chris laughed out loud, a sound of pure relief that echoed off the metal walls. Even Danny, who usually preferred tea, looked like Ryan had just offered him salvation in a red tin.

"Ryan, I could kiss you right now," Joey said, and he sounded like he meant it.

"Let's save the romance for later," Ryan grinned. "First, we need water. Danny, can you get the dispensers working?"

Luca lifted his head from where he was slumped against a crate, eyes bloodshot, face pale. "No," he rasped, barely audible at first. Then, with a little more force, he added. "As your captain, officially, I'm begging you, please, someone... anyone else make the coffee."

Ryan blinked. "What? Why?"

"Because you make tar, man," Zoe said. "You know this. We know this. You've gotta have a transmutation skill somewhere in your stat screen."

"It was... chewy," Emily added diplomatically, then glanced at Chris.

Chris strode forward and snatched the percolator away with a smirk. "Don't worry, Captain. Some of us actually know how to brew coffee." He poured the grounds with the precision of someone who'd been entrusted with dangerous tools before. "I got this."

Luca sagged in relief, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He vaguely registered Ryan rolling his eyes, but his headache was a dull throb behind his temples, and he just didn't have the energy to care. "Thank God. My body... can't handle... mud."

The coffee grounds were dark and rich, releasing their aroma the moment Chris opened the seal. The smell was like a time machine, carrying him back to New Hampshire, when Mom used to make coffee in the morning, to a time when the biggest problem in his life was whether to have another cup or switch to hot chocolate.

"How long?" Emily asked, settling down beside him on the floor.

"A few more minutes," Chris said, leaning on the galley counter.

Luca's body felt heavy with exhaustion, muscles finally starting to relax now that they weren't in immediate crisis mode.

The crew gathered around without any formal invitation, finding spots on the floor and against crates like they were setting up a campfire instead of waiting for coffee in the mess hall of an advanced starship. Zoe sat cross-legged with her back straight, looking alert despite the exhaustion that lined her face. Chris sprawled out with casual grace, somehow managing to look comfortable even on the hard metal floor.

"So," Ryan said, settling down with a satisfied grunt. If he was bitter about losing coffee duty, he didn't show it. "What's the plan once we get clear of the asteroid belt?"

"First thing is to get the ship properly operational," Luca said, accepting a steaming mug from Emily. The coffee was perfect, absolutely delicious. Strong, hot, and so good. "We've got maybe half our systems running."

"The food preparation area needs to be set up," Joey added. "We can't live on emergency rations for months."

"Living quarters, too," Emily said. "Our cabins aren't set up yet, and we need to establish some kind of routine."

The coffee was working its magic, warmth spreading through his chest and clarity returning to his thoughts. This was good. This was what they needed, practical problems with practical solutions, tasks that would keep them busy and moving forward instead of dwelling on what they'd left behind.

"We've got time," Luca said, taking another sip. "Once we clear the asteroid belt, it's three weeks to Alpha Centauri. Plenty of time to get organized and…"

The communications alert cut through their conversation, the sharp electronic tone making everyone freeze. Emergency priority. Someone was trying to reach them, and they weren't taking no for an answer.

"Shit," Luca muttered, setting down his coffee and scrambling to his feet.

The run back to the bridge felt longer than it was, his legs protesting after sitting on the hard floor. The coffee sloshed in his stomach as he moved, but the caffeine was already sharpening his focus, burning away the fog of exhaustion that had been clouding his thoughts.

Emily reached the communications console first, her fingers flying over the controls as she tried to clean up the incoming signal. Static filled the bridge, electronic noise that gradually resolved into something recognizable.

"This is Genesis Platform calling Triumph of Darron. Priority transmission for Captain Rossi. Please respond."

Luca's heart stopped. That voice, even filtered through layers of interference and distance, was unmistakable. Dad. He was alive, and he was calling them.

"Dad!" Luca said into the communicator, probably too loud and too eager, but he didn't care. "We're here. We're all here."

The response took several seconds, long enough for light to travel from their position to the Genesis Platform and back. When Dad's voice came through again, it was clearer, more focused.

"Luca, listen carefully. Genesis Platform is secure. Repeat, Genesis Platform is secure. The attackers were not UER forces. We're not sure who they were yet, but we've turned the situation over to actual UER authorities."

Not UER. The relief hit him like a physical blow, leaving him dizzy and grateful. They weren't fugitives from their own government. They weren't traitors or thieves. They were just unlucky enough to get caught in someone else's corporate bullshit.

"The mission charter remains valid," Dad continued. "Proceed to Alpha Centauri as planned. You have full authorization and support. Do not return. I repeat, do not come back to the Genesis Platform. It's not safe for you here."

Luca slumped against the communications console, feeling years of stress drain out of his shoulders. The mission was still on. They were still legitimate. Everything they'd sacrificed, everything they'd endured, it had all been worth it.

"Your brothers are safe," Dad added, his voice softening. "Matteo... he's alright."

Luca blinked. "Why wouldn't he be?" He asked. The sudden edge in his tone, the specificity, it landed wrong. Did Matteo get caught up in the fighting?

Luca swallowed hard. That sick feeling of helplessness crawled up his spine. His kid brother had been fighting.

Despite the fear, the exhaustion, the weight of command, Luca found himself smiling. Trust his little brother to defend their home while he was fleeing through space.

"There's something else," Dad said. "Those two shuttles... the ones that exploded when your thrusters activated? They were on autopilot."

"What do you mean?" Luca asked, a cold pit forming in his stomach. "There were people on those shuttles."

"No," Dad replied. "They were set to disable your main engines. The raiders used our communications equipment to transmit your exact position and vector to the shuttles. Once you powered up, they would have locked onto your thermal signature. Collision course."

"So when we fired the thrusters... " Luca stopped. He didn't kill them. They were never alive.

"They were shuttles," Dad confirmed. "Weaponized decoys. That wasn't a fight, it was a trap. They were meant to disable the ship."

Luca stared at the console, trying to reconcile the image of those shuttles with the idea that no one had been aboard. His hands shook anyway.

"You need to keep moving, Luca," Dad said. "I think you're still being tracked."

Tracked?

"Think," he continued, voice sharpening. "Think real hard. Which systems on the Triumph weren't affected by the sabotage?"

"...Sabotage?" Luca echoed, suddenly unsure of everything.

"Yes," Dad said. "The Triumph was fully geared, fully cleared, I told you that. The reactor, the engines, they were clean when you left. But the logs don't lie. Someone compromised the ship."

Luca felt a chill crawl across his skin. All those systems that went haywire. The fire. The shutdowns.

"Think, Luca," Dad repeated. "Which of your systems has been online this entire time? Running uninterrupted. Drawing auxiliary power."

His breath caught.