"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

– Oscar Wilde

The bridge of the Triumph was cold as hell at 2:17 AM.

Luca pulled his red hoodie tighter around his shoulders as he paced between the half-assembled workstations. Genesis Platform techs in their gray coveralls swarmed over the ship like ants, installing panel covers, running final diagnostics, and muttering into their comm units. The bridge still looked like a construction site—wrapped chairs, loose cables snaking everywhere, and crates of equipment waiting to find their homes.

"Watch the conduits there," he called to a tech wrestling with a bundle of fiber optics. The guy shot him an annoyed look. Luca was probably the fifth person to tell him that tonight.

He couldn't sleep. Again.

Every time he closed his eyes, the weight of it all crashed down on him. Captain. Five hundred million credits riding on his shoulders. A crew counting on him to lead them to Alpha Centauri and back. His mom's voice echoing in his head: "This day will come, Luca. When it does, you'll know what to do."

Right now, he felt like he knew jack shit.

The tactical display flickered as he pulled up the ship's schematics for the hundredth time tonight. Reactor specs, power distribution, thruster configurations—he was trying to burn every system into his memory. If something went wrong out there, his crew would look to him for answers.

"Captain Rossi?" A tech looked up from the navigation console. "We need to run another calibration on the stellar cartography array. Should take about thirty minutes."

"Go ahead," Luca said, stepping around two more techs hauling equipment. Jesus, I'm just getting in their way.

His personal comm buzzed. Emily's face appeared on the small screen, her blonde hair messy from sleep.

"Can't sleep either?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Someone's got to know how this floating deathtrap works," Luca said, gesturing at the chaos around him. "Figured I'd start with the basics. Like, you know, how to keep us from exploding."

Emily smiled. "You're going to drive yourself crazy, Luca. The ship passed certification. Your dad wouldn't let us launch in anything that wasn't safe."

"Yeah, well, safe is relative when you're jumping to another star system." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm thinking about grabbing coffee from the station. Want anything?"

"I'm good. Try to get some sleep after, okay? We have a lot of work ahead of us."

"Will do. Night, Em."

The screen went dark, and Luca looked around the bridge one more time. Techs everywhere, systems humming, everything proceeding according to schedule. Coffee sounded perfect. Maybe the caffeine would help him focus instead of just getting in everyone's way.

The Genesis Platform's mess hall was nearly empty at this hour. Just a few night-shift workers grabbing late meals and one very tired-looking ship captain, nursing his third cup of coffee, pulled off the hoodie, draping it over his chair. The hot liquid burned away some of the chill from the ship, and for a moment, Luca let himself relax.

A few more days before we launch. Officially. With ceremony and everything going according to plan.

His personal comm exploded to life.

"Luca!" Dad's voice was sharp, urgent. "They're coming. Get back to the ship. Launch. Now!"

Coffee splashed across the table as Luca shot to his feet. "What? Who's—"

"UER soldiers. They're moving to seize the Triumph. You have maybe five minutes before they reach the docking bay. Move!"

The line went dead.

For half a heartbeat, Luca's mind went blank. Then training kicked in—not the formal kind, but months of planning for exactly this scenario. The UER had been circling like vultures ever since they'd won the Alpha Centauri charter. Dad had warned him this might happen.

Luca was already running as he activated his comm to broadcast on the crew channel.

"Code Red, Triumph crew! All hands to the docking bay, now! This is not a drill! Go, go, go!"

His feet pounded against the metal decking as he sprinted through the platform's corridors. Behind him, he could hear shouts and heavy footsteps. They were already here.

The crew channel erupted with voices as his team jolted awake across the platform.

"What the hell—" Ryan's voice, thick with sleep.

"Luca, what's happening?" Joey, sharper, more alert.

"Move! Now! Questions later!" Luca shouted as he dove into the service tunnels. "Get to the ship before they cut us off!"

Danny burst out of his quarters, nearly colliding with Joey in the corridor. "Is this really happening?"

"Looks like," Joey said grimly, medical kit in hand. "Thought we'd have more warning."

Chris appeared at a sprint, his black hair wild, grinning like a maniac. "Now this is what I signed up for!"

"You're insane," Zoe laughed breathlessly as she caught up, her dreadlocks bouncing. She looked way too excited for someone fleeing armed soldiers.

Ryan brought up the rear in red crocs that squeaked against the metal decking. "So much for launching on schedule."

Joey shot a look at Ryan's ridiculous footwear. "Try not to break an ankle in those things. I'm not carrying you."

They converged in the maintenance tunnels as Emily arrived.

She was wearing his red hoodie. The one he'd left draped over his chair in the cafeteria not five minutes ago. It hung past her thighs, sleeves rolled up, looking like she'd grabbed the first thing she could find.

"You left it behind," she said breathlessly, catching his stare.

It looks better on her anyway, he thought.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridors behind them. Getting closer.

"Move!" Luca shouted, taking point as they raced through the cramped tunnels. Exposed pipes and dim lighting made everything feel like a nightmare, but he knew these passages. Dad had made sure of that.

They burst onto the terminal and there she was. The Triumph of Darron. Their pride and joy, their future, their five-hundred-million-credit gamble. She sat in her docking cradle, still connected to auxiliary power.

Where are all the techs? The ship should have been crawling with Genesis Platform workers. Instead, the gangway was empty except for a few scattered crates.

Soldiers poured into the far end of the terminal.

"Go, go, go!" Luca grabbed Emily's hand and led the desperate final sprint down the jetway. Their feet rang against metal as shouts erupted behind them.

They made it through the airlock with seconds to spare. Luca slammed the inner door as the first soldiers reached the outer hatch.

He was breathing hard, his crew gathered around him in the dim corridor of their unfinished ship. Emily's green eyes met his, and he saw his own determination reflected there.

"Bridge!" he commanded. "All hands to stations. We're launching this thing."

As they moved through the half-completed corridors, stepping over loose cables and around stacked equipment, Luca noticed something else wrong. The ship was too quiet. Where were all the Genesis Platform techs who'd been swarming over her just an hour ago?

His interface pinged.

[Asset Transferred Successfully] Triumph of Darron: Exploration Vessel, Helios Class Mk-I Ownership: Genesis Platform → Triumph Initiative Status: Active

Note: All System privileges and responsibilities have transferred to the new owner.

A second notification followed.

[Charter Activated: Alpha Centauri Survey Expedition]

Pre-Requisites: FTL-Capable Vessel [Complete]

Mission Checkpoints: Depart Sol System with a qualified crew - [Pending] Arrive in Alpha Centauri - [Pending] Map all planetary bodies and major asteroid fields - [0/? Mapped] Conduct surface surveys on habitable zone planet - [0/? Mapped] Return with verifiable data - [Pending] Reward: See Mission Compensation Table.

The contract was active. Which meant those soldiers had no legal right to take his ship.

Then who the hell are they working for?

The bridge was chaos. Wrapped furniture, disconnected panels, warning lights flashing amber across every surface. The main reactor was stone cold, running on station power like they were tourists instead of a starship crew.

"Stations!" Luca ordered, his voice cutting through the noise. "Ryan, I need main power. Zoe, get navigation online. Emily, coordinate the startup sequence. Joey, get the medical station online. Let me know if anyone's vitals start to crash."

Behind them, something heavy slammed against the airlock. The soldiers weren't giving up.

"The reactor's cold," Ryan called from the power station, his usual manic energy focused like a laser. "This is gonna be ugly."

"How ugly?" Luca demanded.

"Like, 'might blow us all to hell' ugly. We're supposed to have a twelve-hour warmup sequence."

"We don't have twelve minutes. Make it work."

Ryan grinned, the crazy bastard. "You got it, Captain."

He grabbed the main startup lever with both hands and yanked it down. The ship screamed in protest—a deafening screech as the fusion reactor fought to wake from its cold sleep. Warning lights exploded across every panel.

"Coolant pumps are redlining!" Chris shouted from his engineering station.

"Hold together," Luca muttered, watching the indicators climb into dangerous territory. "Just hold together."

The lights brightened as the reactor found its rhythm. Screens flickered to life across the bridge.

"Got it!" Ryan yelled triumphantly.

"Good," Luca commanded. "Chris, get us free of the station. Automated release sequence."

Chris tapped a command into his console. A green light blinked, then immediately turned red. An error message flashed on the screen.

[DOCKING CLAMP RELEASE FAILED: CORRUPTED HANDSHAKE PROTOCOL]

"What the hell?" Chris tried again. Same result. "The release command isn't being recognized by the station's computer. It's like our ship and the platform aren't speaking the same language anymore."

"Try the manual override," Luca ordered, his stomach clenching as a high-pitched whine started from the direction of the airlock. The soldiers were starting to cut their way through.

"Already on it," Chris said, his fingers flying. "Manual override... also rejected. That's weird."

"Try a direct system query," Ryan suggested, leaning over.

Chris' expression shifted. "The release protocols... they're corrupted. Like someone rewrote the handshake codes."

"We're trapped," Zoe said, her voice dangerously quiet.

The crew looked at each other, then at him. They were out of standard options. Luca's mind raced, his eyes darting from the "Access Denied" message to the soldiers on the security monitor. They can't hack the clamps. They can't override them. But what if we don't have to? What if we just break them?

It was a crazy, desperate idea. But it was the only one he had.

"Zoe," Luca commanded, his voice sharp and absolute, leaving no room for argument. "Fire the starboard attitude thrusters. A short, low-power burn."

"What?" Zoe spun around. "Captain, we're still clamped down! The torque will tear the hull apart!"

"I know!" Luca cut her off, his gaze locked on Chris. "Chris, the second you feel that ship start to pull, blow the emergency explosive bolts. All of them. At once. We're going to rip ourselves free."

A beat of stunned silence. This wasn't in any manual. The explosive bolts were a last-ditch system designed to sever the ship in case of a catastrophic dock explosion, not to launch it.

"You heard him!" Chris yelled, a manic grin spreading across his face as he dove for the override. "Get ready!"

"Hold on!" Luca yelled, grabbing his console as Zoe, trusting his command, fired the thrusters.

The Triumph screamed as the metal groaned and pulled, as the starboard side of the ship tried to pull away while the port side was held fast.

"G-forces are spiking!" Joey called out from his station. "We're hitting our physical limits! Someone's going to black out!"

"Now, Chris!"

Chris yanked the lever.

The ship jerked with the force of a battering ram as the bolts exploded open. The violent, uncontrolled release sent them lurching sideways. Danny went down hard, crashing into a pile of equipment.

"We're clear!" Chris screamed like a maniac.

Before anyone else could move, Joey was already at Danny's side, helping him up. "You okay? Any signs of concussion?"

"I'm good," Danny grunted, shaking his head clear. "Just... dizzy."

"Main thrusters!" Luca commanded. "Full power!"

The Triumph shuddered violently as Zoe yanked the lever for the primary drive engines. The attitude jets were nothing compared to the roar of the main thrusters fighting to push them clear of the Genesis Platform. They were moving, finally.

Luca took a shaky breath, trying to regain control.

...Then the alarms changed pitch.

"We're losing power!" Danny called from his science station. "Reactor's going unstable!"

The generator indicators were flashing angry red, heat warnings climbing toward critical.

"Ryan! Chris!" Luca barked. "Get that generator stable!"

Ryan dove for the controls, his face going pale as he scanned the readouts. "What the hell? These coolant lines were fine yesterday! I tested them myself!"

Chris looked up from the engineering panel, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning horror. "The primary heat exchangers... someone pulled the safety interlocks. These systems don't just fail like this."

"Wait, what?" Danny's voice cracked. "You're saying someone—"

"Sabotage," Chris said, the word hanging in the air like a death sentence. "Those techs... they weren't finishing the install. They were breaking it."

"Working on it!" Chris slammed switches as Ryan fought with the turbine controls.

"Stabilized!" Ryan shouted.

But their victory was short-lived. Before they could even process the sabotage reveal, a new set of alarms began wailing.

"Main thrusters are offline!" Zoe reported, her voice flat. "The power surge from the generator fried the ignition relay! We're on momentum only!"

A beat of silence hung in the air as Luca stared out the large viewport, the Genesis Shipyard spinning slowly away. They were adrift, crippled, and running blind.

Shit. What do I do now?

As if in answer, a muffled thump echoed from somewhere deep within the ship's infrastructure. It was followed by the unmistakable, acrid smell of burning plastic.

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