《Destiny Among the Stars, a Lite LitRPG Story》


 Prologue

    I was slouched at the bar in my dad¡¯s shipyard caf¨¦, tapping my fingers on the worn wood counter. The place smelled like espresso and grease, a weird mix that somehow felt like home. The hot chocolate in front of me was damn near perfect¡ªrich and smooth, the kind that made you forget the station¡¯s busted climate control was letting the cold creep in through every seam. Outside the big plate-glass windows, all you could see was the endless dark of space, the neon red sign buzzing softly like it was trying to stay awake. Cozy, but in that slightly rundown, ¡°we don¡¯t fix things until they¡¯re broken¡± way. Classic Athan Rossi vibes.


    The door swung open. My old man. Calloused hands, a face that could sell you a starship or rearrange your face, depending on the hour. He spotted me, that little smirk tugging at his mouth¡ªHere we go again, kid.


    ¡°Hey, Dad,¡± I said, trying not to sound like I was hitting him up for cash. Grinned anyway. It¡¯s a reflex. ¡°Got something I wanna run by you.¡±


    He slid onto the stool across from me and waved down the server for his usual double espresso. The man could probably drink rocket fuel and still sleep like a baby. "For you, Luca? Always." He leaned back, all casual, like he had all the time in the world.


    We shot the shit for a bit¡ªfamily, the crew, whatever small talk we could scrape together. It was mostly him asking about the latest portal delve, me trying to make it sound less dangerous than it was. You know, the usual.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the emergency that couldn¡¯t wait?¡± he asked.


    I leaned forward, elbows on the counter. ¡°Okay, so here¡¯s the deal: the Triumph. The Alpha Centauri ship.¡±


    ¡°The one Karen¡¯s funding? What about it?¡±


    ¡°We need to talk ship, literally,¡± I said, lowering my voice. ¡°Look, Genesis builds solid stuff, workhorses, yeah? But this¡­ this needs to be different.¡±


    ¡°Different how?¡±


    ¡°Big, Dad. Way bigger than your usual runabouts. Think long-haul, adaptable. Alpha Centauri is just stop one. We need a ship that can be a home out there, for years if necessary.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow, gaze sharp. "Years? Planning a one-way trip?"


    "Hell no," I said, maybe too fast. Didn''t want him thinking we were bailing, not after Mom. "But we need to be ready for anything. Private cabins, not bunks. Real mess hall, labs, a hangar. This isn''t a joyride; we¡¯re pushing boundaries. We might even hit past level 60 out there, who knows? We need a ship that can keep up.¡±


    ¡°And what happens when you run into something out there that pushes back?¡± he asked, now leaning forward, his voice serious. I guess I must have spooked him.


    ¡°We¡¯ll be ready. Best damn team in the sector. Ryan¡¯s engineering brain, Danny¡¯s science smarts, even Zoe picked navigator at 54. With the right ship, we can handle it. Besides, this is our shot to show the UER what we¡¯re made of. To go beyond.¡±


    He was silent, stirring his espresso. "It''s more than just seeing new planets for you, isn''t it?"


    ¡°It''s about a lot of things. Getting away from here, maybe. Seeing something new.¡± I replied quickly. There was a lot I wanted to do: explore the universe and see new stars and new planets. My team needed a break; we¡¯d been delving into portals nonstop, raising money for this mission to commission our ship. I remember that original ¡®System¡¯ message four years ago. The system arrived to all civilizations in the Milky Way. I wanted to see them, I wanted to get there first.


    "Your mother always said you had stars in your eyes," my dad said, sighing, a hint of sadness in his voice. He must be remembering her, how much she had believed in me, in this crazy dream.


    "Maybe I do. Is that so wrong?" I asked, an edge to my voice. Maybe I needed this escape, this chance to prove myself. And maybe the team did too. We''d spent years delving, fighting to survive in those damn portals. We deserved a break from the grind, a chance to see something beyond Earth and its endless politics.


    He sighed. "He sighed. "No. But space is a bitch, Luca. Doesn¡¯t give a damn about dreams.¡± He was right, of course. It had been a bitch setting up the Shipyard and running it; so many teams had been lost on Mars, Europa, and so many other planets and moons, people who went in unprepared, underequipped, or just had bad luck.


    ¡°That¡¯s why we need the right ship, Dad. A fighting chance.¡± I pulled out my tablet. Emily said I drew like a kid, but whatever. ¡°Look.¡±


    I didn¡¯t wait for him to agree before diving in. ¡°Midsize, roomy for eight. Modular so we don¡¯t kill each other in tight spaces. Big, open bridge with map tables and viewports. Private cabins ¨C screw the bunks. A mess hall that isn¡¯t a closet. Labs, hangar. Comfort and function, that¡¯s the play.¡±


    I couldn¡¯t stop once I got rolling. My hands were flying everywhere, gesturing like I was already giving a tour of the ship that didn¡¯t even exist yet. ¡°Surveying planets, charting systems nobody¡¯s even named yet. We find a good spot, touch down, and bam¡ªalien landscapes under our boots.¡±


    My voice got louder without me meaning it to. ¡°Think about it, Pop. We could uncover entire civilizations, or strike it rich on resources no one¡¯s even dreamed of. And the team¡ªmy crew¡ªwe¡¯re ready to make it happen.¡±


    He sipped his coffee, slow and steady like he had all the time in the universe. ¡°Quite the adventure you¡¯ve got planned,¡± he said, one eyebrow raised like he wasn¡¯t sure if I was a genius or just full of shit. ¡°And what about when you need some R&R?¡±


    I threw my head back, stretching, letting the warmth of the chocolate spread through me. "Oh, don¡¯t worry, Pop. We¡¯ve got plenty of comfortable spaces for that too." In my head, I could already see it: the plush lounge, the dim lighting. Perfect for, you know, unwinding after a long day of discovering new galaxies. Maybe with Emily, her laughter echoing softly, or Zoe, leaning in close, whispering about some nebula she just charted. Not that I¡¯d say any of that out loud. ¡°Picture it. Dad: soft rustle of pages, the murmurs of strategy over poker, the kind of vibe that makes the ship feel like home.¡± My eyes lit up as another idea hit me ¡°Or," I said, grinning, "help Zoe whip up one of her famous casseroles in our state-of-the-art kitchen."


    Okay, so I didn¡¯t really care about casseroles, but imagining Zoe in the kitchen, her apron over her bare shoulders, her ass sticking out? Yeah, that was something. Not that I¡¯d say that out loud, especially not to Dad. No way I was letting him know half the shit rattling around in my brain.


    Dad sipped his espresso and gave me the look¡ªthe one that said, You¡¯ve got big dreams, kid, but do you have the budget? ¡°You know this isn¡¯t going to be cheap,¡± he muttered. ¡°Just the space alone¡ªthe engine, building materials, furnishings... Installing that FTL drive.¡±


    I plastered on my most confident smile, even though my stomach did a nervous flip at the mention of the Drive. "I know it¡¯s a big undertaking, Dad," I said, throwing in a casual shrug like I wasn¡¯t sweating bullets over the numbers. "But I¡¯ve run the math. Between our savings and some financial backing from Karen at the IFC, I¡¯m confident we can make it work."


    The word confident hung in the air like I had it tattooed across my forehead. Truth was, I was about 80% sure we could pull this off, and that 20% uncertainty? Yeah, I buried that under layers of bravado and blind optimism. What was the alternative? Give up before I even started? Not my style. Besides, if we didn¡¯t figure it out, Emily would definitely kill me, and Zoe would probably find a way to make it worse just for fun.


    Dad raised an eyebrow, the kind of eyebrow lift that could stop a lesser man in his tracks. "This is... ambitious, Luca. You do realize what you''re asking for, right? This isn''t just a bigger ship. It''s a whole different class." He shook his head slightly, running a hand over his tired face. "The cost... we''re talking 400, maybe 500 million, easy. And that''s a bare-bones estimate. No gravity generator, no supplies."


    For a second, my enthusiasm dipped like someone had cut the power. Half a billion credits? It was a number so big it didn¡¯t even feel real. But I wasn¡¯t about to show weakness¡ªnot now, not in front of him.


    "I know it¡¯s a lot of money, Dad," I admitted, my voice steady, ¡°but we''ll make it back. We find something valuable out there, a new resource, a new technology... it''ll pay for itself. And Karen, she believes in the mission. She greenlit the Triumph Initiative, remember?.¡±


    "She greenlit a proposal," he countered, his voice firm. "Building a ship like this... that''s a whole different ball game. I''ll have to clear some schedules, expand the drydock..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And Karen''s a businesswoman, Luca. She''ll expect a return on her investment."


    Of course, she would, why else would she loan us the money? It''s her IFC on the line as well. The United Earth Republic would have her head if we failed. "We''ll give her one. I know we will," I said, my voice ringing with a conviction I hoped I could live up to.


    God, I hope that doesn¡¯t sound as desperate as it feels.


    Dad leaned back, studying me with that thoughtful expression he always got when he was deciding if I was full of shit or just stubborn enough to pull it off. "You always were the ambitious one," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.


    "Ambitious," yeah, that was one word for it. Maybe reckless or stupidly hopeful would''ve been more accurate. Relief bubbled up as he added, "Alright, let me talk to my engineers. We''ll run the numbers, see what''s feasible. No promises, but I''ll see what I can do."


    I grinned so wide it hurt. "Thanks, Dad. You won''t regret it." We clinked our mugs together, his espresso against my hot chocolate, and for a second, it felt like we''d already won. Like maybe, just maybe, this crazy dream could actually happen.


    In the back of my mind, though, the doubts were already lining up, whispering about how much was riding on this. How much I was risking. But I pushed them aside. We''d figure it out. We had to. I wasn''t ready to let this go, not yet. Not ever.


    ***


    Four months. Four damn months of waiting, planning, and scraping together credits like a broke college kid saving for spring break. And now, here we were, standing by the port window like kids on Christmas morning. The Triumph of Darron¡ªour ship¡ªwas finally ready. Well, technically, it was docked nearby, still under the watchful eye of one of Dad¡¯s pilots. But seeing it released from the shipyard clamps was something else.


    I leaned forward, my hands pressed against the cool glass, trying to soak it all in. ¡°Look at her,¡± I said, barely able to keep the grin off my face. ¡°Is it just me, or does she look even better than the schematics?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s gorgeous,¡± Zoe chimed in from beside me, her voice low and a little too smooth. I caught her reflection in the glass¡ªbig, dark eyes shining as she tilted her head just enough for the light to catch her long dreadlocks. I knew that look. Zoe didn¡¯t just admire things; she studied them, like she was already figuring out how to make the Triumph her playground. Typical Zoe.


    Ryan, standing on my other side, gave a low whistle. ¡°Looks fast. Reckon we could race her?¡± He elbowed me, grinning like an idiot.


    ¡°Yeah, until we leave your sorry ass in the dust,¡± I shot back. But my chest tightened a little at the thought. This wasn¡¯t just a ship¡ªit was ours. The culmination of every stupidly ambitious, half-baked dream I¡¯d had since we hit level 60 and picked our classes. And now? Now it was real.


    Emily brushed past me, her ponytail swishing as she stepped closer to the window. She had that look¡ªfocused, a little too serious for the moment. ¡°You sure it¡¯s ready for us, Luca?¡± she asked, her tone soft but edged with that undercurrent of doubt that always made me second-guess myself.


    ¡°Hell yes, it¡¯s ready,¡± I said, more for me than her. ¡°We¡¯ve got everything: Dad¡¯s cutting-edge designs and the Vanguard Hyper-Displacement Drive we pulled from Venus. You were there. You saw what we went through to get it.¡±


    And I wasn¡¯t lying. That level 60 portal on Venus had been no joke¡ªan absolute meat grinder of traps, mobs, and some bastard of a boss who nearly took Ryan¡¯s arm off. But we did it. We made it out, drive in hand, just before the whole portal collapsed behind us. Single-use bullshit. Still, that drive? Worth every scraped knuckle and close call.


    I looked over at Danny, who had been quiet this whole time, his gaze fixed on the Triumph. Typical Danny¡ªalways thinking ten steps ahead. ¡°What do you think, science boy? Ready to leave the textbooks behind and play mad scientist in zero-G?¡±


    ¡°Only if you promise not to break my labs on day one,¡± he said.


    ¡°No promises,¡± I said with a shrug, and Zoe snickered beside me.


    The ship was everything I¡¯d hoped for: a Galactic Surveyor Type MK I, sleek and modular, built for exploration but with enough creature comforts to make long missions bearable. It wasn¡¯t just Dad¡¯s first large ship¡ªit was our masterpiece. And that Vanguard drive? It could push us to .5 AU per second. Half a fucking astronomical unit. It was still hard to wrap my head around speeds like that.


    ¡°Once we¡¯re past the Oort cloud, we¡¯ll be golden,¡± Ryan said, his voice cutting through my thoughts. ¡°You sure about that corridor to Alpha Centauri? No ice dust, no debris? Sounds too good to be true.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s legit,¡± I said, clapping him on the back. ¡°Gravitational pull or system mechanics or some other science shit¡ªwhatever it is, it¡¯s clear. Three weeks, give or take, and we¡¯ll be touching down on alien soil.¡±


    Emily crossed her arms, her expression softening just enough to let me know she wasn¡¯t completely sold but wouldn¡¯t argue. Yet. ¡°Alright, Captain,¡± she said with a small smile. ¡°You¡¯ve got us this far. Let¡¯s see if you can keep us alive for the next leg.¡±


    ¡°Challenge accepted,¡± I said, turning back to the window. My reflection grinned back at me, cocky as hell. Inside, though, I was buzzing with nerves, excitement, and something I couldn¡¯t quite name. This was it¡ªthe start of something big, something crazy.


    And, yeah, maybe I was imagining Zoe lounging in one of the ship¡¯s plush chairs, or Emily leaning over the bridge console. Sue me. I was twenty, I was human, and I was about to dive headfirst into the unknown with my best friends and the two biggest distractions in my life.


    What could possibly go wrong?


    With the ship now completed, all we had to do was board and take control. Simple, right? Except stepping into the Triumph of Darron for the first time wasn¡¯t just simple¡ªit was fucking magical.


    The airlock hissed open, and we drifted inside, floating like kids on a zero-g field trip. The ship was pristine¡ªgleaming metal, faint hum of machinery, and the sharp tang of disinfectant in the air. My boots gave a little kick, and I sailed forward, my crew trailing behind. Our breathing echoed in the empty corridors, the sound weirdly satisfying in the silence.


    ¡°Someone forgot to turn on the gravity generator,¡± I said, grinning like an idiot.


    Emily giggled behind me, her ponytail floating in a golden halo. She looked ethereal, the low lights catching the curve of her neck and the shape of her hips. I had to look away before my thoughts ran off the rails¡ªagain.


    We moved deeper into the ship, lights flickering on as we passed, painting our path in warm yellows and cool silvers. It felt surreal, like we¡¯d stumbled into a dream. Zoe caught up to me, twisting effortlessly in midair. Her long legs kicked lazily as she floated upside down, her dreadlocks spreading like ink in water. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to teach me how to drive this thing,¡± she said, smirking.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.¡°Drive? Pretty sure this thing flies itself,¡± I shot back, trying not to focus on how her hoodie was riding up, exposing her flat belly. Jesus, Luca. Get a grip. But, seriously, those legs.


    Emily shoved a datapad into my hand, snapping me out of it. ¡°We finally got it!¡± she said, her grin lighting up her whole face. I took the pad, the edges of pride and excitement bleeding into my chest. This was our ship now. Not Dad¡¯s, not some pipe dream¡ªours.


    We rounded a corner into engineering, where Ryan floated surrounded by a halo of tools. His cap was barely holding on, his sandy blonde hair sticking out like he¡¯d just rolled out of bed¡ªwhich, let¡¯s be honest, he probably had.


    ¡°Already losing tools?¡± I teased, pushing off the wall to get closer.


    Ryan looked up, a ratchet floating by his shoulder. ¡°Hey, this is new territory, Luca. Tools weren¡¯t meant to fly.¡±


    He grinned at me, that easy, cocky smile that always felt like a challenge. And damn if he didn¡¯t make even zero-g look good, his broad shoulders filling out his t-shirt just right. Was it normal to notice stuff like that? Probably not. But here I was, noticing.


    We left Ryan to his floating mess and drifted further into the ship, finding Danny in the science lab. His curly red hair floated like a puff of fire, and he was squinting at a big-ass microscope balanced precariously on a crate. Danny always had this boy-next-door vibe, freckles and dimples making him look like he belonged in a vintage ad for milk or something. But seeing him here, all focused and determined? Yeah, it worked.


    Emily kicked off toward him, her voice light. ¡°Think you¡¯ll have everything you need?¡±


    Danny grinned back at her. ¡°Almost. But we might want to move this microscope before Ryan decides to turn on gravity and it crushes something. Like my foot.¡±


    ¡°Relax, you¡¯d only have yourself to blame,¡± Ryan called out from the corridor, already halfway to help. He planted himself next to Danny, their movements synchronized as they adjusted the microscope. Watching them work together¡ªRyan¡¯s toned arms brushing against Danny¡¯s lanky frame¡ªit hit me again: a toned ass was a toned ass. Didn¡¯t matter if it belonged to Ryan, Danny, Emily, or Zoe. The whole crew was a walking distraction.


    Shaking my head, I pushed myself toward the bridge, leaving them to their balancing act. This ship wasn¡¯t going to captain itself, and I wasn¡¯t about to let my hormone-driven brain get in the way of the biggest moment of my life. But, yeah, I¡¯d probably need a cold shower later. Or a long talk with myself about priorities. Preferably both.


    We floated into the bridge, and Zoe was already in her element, gliding from console to console like she¡¯d been born in zero-g. Her dreadlocks stuck out in every direction, and I swear, she looked like some kind of space goddess¡ªintense, focused, and way too attractive for my own good. She adjusted screens, configured the AI, and didn¡¯t so much as glance back at us, her whole vibe screaming, I¡¯ve got this.


    Meanwhile, Emily floated beside me, her hand brushing against mine every now and then, sending little sparks up my arm. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the dim bridge light, and her grin could¡¯ve powered the whole damn ship. I had to force myself not to stare at the way her shirt hugged her curves as she twisted to take in the view. Focus, Luca. Focus.


    We drifted out of the bridge and down the corridors, every new turn revealing another part of the ship that was ours. Ours. It was surreal, exhilarating, and just a little overwhelming. My brain couldn¡¯t stop buzzing with all the possibilities. The bridge console, for one¡ªflat, smooth, and just the right height. I caught myself wondering how easy it would be to clean up afterward if things got messy. Not that I¡¯d ever say that out loud.


    The tour took us everywhere: the observation lounge, the gym, the engine room, even the storage areas. Each space was shiny and pristine, full of promise. But it was the cabins that really did it for me. Eight of them, lined up on the top deck, each a little oasis of privacy. My cabin was small but cozy, with a tiny bathroom, a space for a desk, and a bed that would eventually hold a mattress.


    Standing there, I couldn¡¯t help but let my imagination run wild. This bed¡­ Yeah, it¡¯s gonna see some action. Not that I had much experience to back that up¡ªokay, no experience¡ªbut damn, I could picture it. Emily¡¯s playful smirk as she leaned over me, Zoe¡¯s sharp tongue cutting through the tension, even Ryan¡¯s easy laugh as we clinked glasses of¡­ something. Hell, even Danny might show up if things got weird enough.


    And the lounge? Don¡¯t get me started. All those couches, the low lighting, the view of the stars stretching out forever¡ªprime hookup territory. I made a mental note to add ¡°cleaning supplies¡± to the shopping list. What¡¯s the point of being Captain if I can¡¯t christen this ship in style?


    Emily¡¯s voice pulled me back to reality. ¡°Okay, Captain,¡± she said, her grin widening as she pulled a device from her pocket. ¡°We¡¯ve got shopping to do!¡±


    ¡°Got it, Captain,¡± Emily said with a mock salute, ¡°We have shopping to do!¡± The word hit me like a low-voltage shock, spreading warmth through my chest and, okay, maybe a little lower. Her eyes sparkled as she floated out of the cabin, Zoe close behind, both of them laughing like they didn¡¯t have a care in the world.


    Captain.


    It wasn¡¯t even supposed to be me. Nobody else wanted the gig, so I¡¯d fallen into it like someone tripping over their own feet at a graduation ceremony. At first, I¡¯d been hesitant¡ªhell, terrified, really. But now? Every time someone said it, especially Emily, it was like a little ego boost I didn¡¯t know I needed. ¡°Captain¡± had a ring to it, a weight that felt... good. And yeah, when Emily said it, I felt a little more than good. Not that I¡¯d ever admit that to anyone.


    As their laughter echoed down the corridor, I floated there in the cabin, staring at the space like I¡¯d just stepped into the bridge of the Enterprise. My cabin. My ship. My future. The thought made my pulse quicken, and not just because of the ship. The way Emily had grinned at me, the way she said Captain¡ªdamn, she could weaponize that word if she wanted to.


    I took another look around, imagining how it would feel when the place was fully set up. The bed, the desk, maybe a little frame with a picture of my fam¡ªor just Emily in one of those outfits she rocked so effortlessly. A guy could dream, right? And dreaming was safer than facing how my brain short-circuited every time she smiled at me like that. Focus, Luca. Focus.


    ¡°Hold on,¡± I said, raising a hand to slow her roll. ¡°Let me talk to my dad about food supplies first. He¡¯s got experience with this¡ªhelping new captains stock up. You guys handle the furniture. Just make sure everything can be bolted down in case we lose gravity again.¡±


    ***


    The next four weeks were a blur of activity, and honestly? It felt like some weird space version of a home makeover show. Every day, more boxes arrived for the Triumph of Darron, and Emily and Zoe turned the bare-bones ship into something that actually felt like home. They didn¡¯t disappoint¡ªmattresses, tables, couches, desks, gym equipment, rugs, and all the little things I didn¡¯t even know we needed until I saw them unpacked. Zoe found this ridiculously comfortable leather couch that somehow fit perfectly in the lounge, and Emily picked out curtains for the observation deck windows. Curtains. In space. I had to admit, it kind of worked.


    Meanwhile, I¡¯d been neck-deep in logistics with Dad and his team on the Genesis Platform, coordinating food supplies for the voyage. Sure, we had the small greenhouse for herbs and maybe some greens, but the bulk of our meals would come from frozen and pre-prepared rations. You can¡¯t exactly live off basil and lettuce when you¡¯re charting uncharted space.


    By the end of it all, our quarters didn¡¯t even look like part of a spaceship anymore. The cold steel walls and floors were mostly hidden under soft fabrics, wood paneling, and carpeted walls. My cabin now had a mattress that made me want to skip shifts just to lie on it. The whole ship felt... alive. Cozy. Like it was ours in every sense of the word.


    As I stood in the lounge, looking at the ridiculous amount of effort we¡¯d put into making this ship a home, I couldn¡¯t help but grin. This was going to be so much fun. Sure, the whole thing had cost a small fortune¡ªnorth of 550 million credits, and that didn¡¯t even include the street value of the FTL drive, which added another 200 million if anyone felt like doing the math. But who cared? This was our dream.


    Of course, none of this would¡¯ve happened without the Interstellar Frontier Company. They¡¯d won the Alpha Centauri survey charter from the United Earth Republic and thrown 300 million credits at us to build this ship and make the mission happen. The rest? That had come out of our savings, every credit we¡¯d managed to scrape together. We¡¯d spent weeks convincing Karen and Michael at IFC to back us. I mean, begging wasn¡¯t off the table at one point.


    This was their big bet on us, and if we screwed it up, the IFC would lose their investment and get their asses handed to them by the UER. No pressure, right? But if we pulled this off? We¡¯d be rich. Like buy-your-own-space-station rich.


    For now, though, I wasn¡¯t thinking about credits or charters or all the ways this could go wrong. Standing there, surrounded by my crew¡ªmy family¡ªit all felt worth it. Every sleepless night, every impossible negotiation, every credit we¡¯d spent. We were ready. And as Captain¡ªstill weird, still kind of a turn-on¡ªit was my job to make sure we didn¡¯t screw it up.


    ***


    The last thing on the never-ending list was uniforms. Uniforms. Just the word made me cringe. I wasn¡¯t exactly the ¡°matching outfits¡± type, and the idea of telling my crew what to wear felt... weird. But Dad had been insistent. ¡°It¡¯s about discipline, Luca. Morale. Presentation. You¡¯ll be among other crews¡ªminers, gas scoopers, shuttle pilots. They¡¯ll expect it.¡±


    So here I was, dragging Emily and Zoe to a shop called Uniforms Unlimited because, let¡¯s face it, I figured they knew more about colors and clothes than I did. My fashion sense maxed out at ¡°does this have holes in it?¡± and ¡°is it clean enough to wear again?¡±


    When we walked in, a middle-aged woman with purple hair and a smile like she genuinely enjoyed her job greeted us. ¡°Athan Rossi¡¯s son, correct?¡± she said, extending her hand. ¡°I¡¯m June. A pleasure to meet you, Luca. And you must be Emily and Zoe?¡±


    I blushed¡ªlike, actually blushed. Why do people always know I¡¯m Athan¡¯s kid? ¡°Uh, yeah. Hi, June,¡± I managed, shaking her hand like a nervous intern. ¡°We¡¯re here to, uh, get some uniforms made for our crew.¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± she said, leading us into her office, which looked like someone had exploded a rainbow in it. Swatches of every fabric and color imaginable covered the walls and tables. It smelled like coffee and ambition, and she wasted no time pouring us cups from the fancy machine in the corner.


    ¡°So,¡± June began, sliding into her chair and looking at me expectantly, ¡°what kind of look are you going for? Professional? Casual? Camouflage, perhaps?¡±


    I hesitated, glancing at Emily and Zoe for backup. ¡°Uh, professional but comfortable?¡± I said, trying to sound like I had a plan. ¡°We¡¯ll be spending long hours on the ship, exploring planets. Maybe a set of uniforms for onboard tasks, something for downtime... gym clothes too, maybe? Neutral colors? Grays?¡±


    The second I finished, Emily groaned audibly and facepalmed. Literally facepalmed. ¡°Luca,¡± she said, getting up and pushing me toward the door, ¡°we¡¯ll take care of this, okay?¡±


    ¡°You sure? I was thinking maybe¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± Zoe cut in, joining the shoving effort. ¡°We¡¯ve got this. You¡¯re off uniform duty.¡±


    June raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t stop them. The girls plopped back into their seats as I stumbled out the door, still holding my untouched coffee. ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered, half to myself. ¡°Just don¡¯t make us look like space clowns or something.¡±


    From the hallway, I could hear Zoe¡¯s laugh echoing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Captain. We¡¯ll make you look good.¡±


    And there it was again¡ªthat word, Captain. It hit me like it always did, sending a warm buzz through my chest and, yeah, lower. I shook my head, trying to clear the image of Emily and Zoe in perfectly tailored uniforms out of my mind. Focus, Luca. Let them handle it.


    Still, as I walked away, I couldn¡¯t help but imagine what they¡¯d come up with. Hopefully not something that screamed ¡°space janitor,¡± but knowing those two, they¡¯d figure out how to make us look damn good. I just hoped they didn¡¯t spend too much on it. Actually, scratch that¡ªI hoped they did.


    Five hours. Five damn hours since Emily and Zoe had kicked me out of Uniforms Unlimited, and I was still fuming. Not because I didn¡¯t trust them¡ªwell, not entirely¡ªbut because sitting around while they ran the show left me feeling like a third wheel on my own ship.


    I was in the command chair, fiddling with the bridge¡¯s user interface, trying to figure out if I could customize the layout. It wasn¡¯t going well. Every time I clicked something, another menu popped up, and none of it made sense. Why does everything in space have to be overengineered?


    When I heard the airlock hiss, I glanced up to see Emily and Zoe strolling in like they owned the place. Emily had this smug little grin on her face, and Zoe looked like she¡¯d just pulled off the heist of the century.


    ¡°How¡¯d it go?¡± I asked, spinning the chair around and leaning back like I was totally cool with being left out of the loop.


    ¡°It went great, Luca,¡± Zoe said, her smirk almost a challenge. ¡°We¡¯ve got some surprises for the whole crew, but you¡¯ll have to wait and see.¡±


    ¡°Surprises?¡± I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure if I should be excited or terrified. Knowing Zoe, it could go either way. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we try them on before we leave? Did you get everyone¡¯s measurements?¡± I asked, trying to sound like a responsible Captain and not like someone secretly wondering how good everyone would look in their new uniforms. Okay, mostly wondering about Emily and Zoe.


    ¡°June will transmit the design specs over tonight,¡± Emily said, waving off my concern. ¡°We¡¯ll have them before we leave. Don¡¯t worry.¡±


    Zoe rolled her eyes. ¡°Relax, Captain. We¡¯ve got it under control.¡±


    And there it was again¡ªthat word, Captain. Zoe¡¯s tone was casual, but it still hit me like a well-aimed punch. Captain. My title. My role. My... weird turn-on when she or Emily said it. I tried not to let it show, turning back to the interface and pretending I didn¡¯t feel a little warm under the collar.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, because I did know better than to question them when they were in mission mode. They were a force of nature, and honestly? I wasn¡¯t about to get in their way. Instead, I turned my attention back to the bridge, letting out a slow breath as I scanned the room.


    The ship was coming together, piece by piece, and it looked spectacular. The consoles gleamed under the soft light, the viewports stretched out to reveal the endless starscape, and my command chair? Perfectly positioned. This was my domain, my sanctuary, my ship.


    But in the back of my mind, I couldn¡¯t stop imagining what those uniforms might look like¡ªor more accurately, what the crew might look like in them. Especially Emily and Zoe. And maybe Ryan, if I was being honest with myself. God, I was hopeless.

 Chapter 1 - The Uniforms

    ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± I muttered, holding up one of the so-called uniforms like it was about to disintegrate in my hands. It looked like it was made for a doll, not a full-grown human being. Around me, the guys were tearing into their own boxes, and judging by their faces¡ªsomewhere between stifled laughter and utter disbelief¡ªI wasn¡¯t alone in my confusion.


    ¡°These are our new uniforms,¡± Zoe said, grinning like she¡¯d just pulled off the prank of the century. She leaned casually against a crate, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. ¡°Emily and I worked on them based on the specs you gave us. They¡¯re smart-suits, designed for functionality and...¡± Her voice dipped slightly, and her gaze flickered towards Danny for a moment, a playful smirk touching her lips. "...style." She let her gaze drift over him, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary, before returning to the group.


    Danny, caught off guard, froze, his freckles practically glowing under the hangar lights. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand coming up to adjust his collar as if it had suddenly become too tight. Zoe watched him, her grin widening slightly, clearly amused.


    I looked away quickly, pretending to inspect the ridiculous suit in my hands. God help us. This ship hasn¡¯t even left the dock, and it¡¯s already a mess.


    The thing in my hands¡ªcalling it a uniform felt generous¡ªwas sleek, stretchy, and so form-fitting it looked like it would vacuum-seal to my body. The material shimmered under the hangar lights, and a zipper ran from the neckline all the way to the crotch. It even came with a face mask for emergencies, which was probably the only thing about it that made sense.


    "Uh, are these... are these supposed to be compression garments? Because I''m not sure about the, uh, the ventilation properties of this material. We might overheat. Or, you know, chafe." He pushed his glasses up his nose, avoiding eye contact with anyone.


    ¡°Uh, girls?¡± I ventured, waving the tiny, shiny thing at Zoe and Emily. ¡°I think there¡¯s been some kind of misunderstanding. We need practical gear, not... this.¡± My voice cracked a little as I gestured at the suit. ¡°How the hell are we even supposed to put it on? It¡¯s so... tiny.¡±


    Emily sighed dramatically, crossing her arms like I was the dumbest person on the ship. ¡°Luca Rossi,¡± she said, her tone dripping with exaggerated patience, ¡°you, of all people, should know how important it is to look good while exploring the universe. First impressions matter. Besides, these suits are state of the art.¡±


    I blinked at her, struggling to find the words. ¡°State of the art? Emily, this thing looks like it came out of a sci-fi strip club.¡±


    ¡°Well, if we don''t make it to Alpha Centauri, at least we''ll look good in these uniforms when they find our remains,¡± said Ryan as he handled one of the tiny outfits.


    Great, here we go. Time to find out just how badly they blew the budget.


    ¡°How much did you spend on this ¡®state of the art¡¯ gear?¡± I asked, bracing myself for the answer.


    Emily hesitated, her confidence cracking just a little. ¡°Well, we got the smart-suits, gym clothes, shoes, loungewear...¡±


    ¡°How much?¡± I pressed, my stomach doing somersaults.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, about a buck twenty?¡± she said, looking everywhere but at me.


    ¡°120...?¡± My voice rose, sharp enough to cut through the hangar¡¯s hum.


    ¡°120,000 credits,¡± she said in a quiet voice, like saying it softly would somehow make it less insane.


    The hangar went completely silent except for the collective gasp from the guys. 120,000 credits? On clothes? What the actual fuck?


    ¡°And we worked really hard on them,¡± Zoe added, pouting like she was the victim here. ¡°Don¡¯t you trust our judgment?¡±


    Trust? Oh, I trusted them to blow through a budget faster than a starship through hyperspace. I glanced around. Ryan looked like he wanted to laugh but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Danny was fiddling with his box like it might give him answers to life¡¯s mysteries. No one said a word. Arguing with Emily and Zoe was like arguing with gravity: pointless and dangerous.


    I let out a long sigh, feeling every ounce of defeat settle on my shoulders. ¡°Fine,¡± I said, throwing up my hands. ¡°Fine. Whatever. The money¡¯s already gone.¡±


    Emily¡¯s face lit up instantly. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said sweetly, stepping forward to plant a quick kiss on my cheek. And just like that, it was hard to stay frustrated. Damn her.


    ¡°Exactly," Zoe said, clapping her hands together. "So, moving on! We didn''t just get the suits." She grabbed another box, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let''s see what else we''ve got, shall we? There¡¯s also the gym uniforms, loungewear, shoes, boots, and other stuff,¡± she added as if that somehow made spending a small fortune on space spandex okay.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a look at those,¡± Ryan said, stepping up to another box like he was ready to unravel the next layer of chaos.


    I leaned back against a crate, rubbing a hand over my face. Fuck me. What did I get myself into? The money was gone, the uniforms were shiny enough to blind someone, and my crew was clearly going to have opinions. But as I watched Zoe and Emily dive into the next box, laughing and chatting like this was all some grand victory, I couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    This is going to be a shitshow. A fun one, maybe, but still a shitshow.


    The first thing out of the box was the loungewear: sleek, white, and soft-looking, with personalized color accents for each crew member. But the kicker? It was sheer. Suspiciously sheer. As in, you¡¯d better not be shy about what you¡¯ve got underneath. My mind instantly went into overdrive, imagining Emily lounging on one of the couches in her red-accented set, legs curled up, maybe leaning just a little too far forward... or Zoe, her green highlights catching the light as she stretched out in the observation lounge, totally unconcerned about how see-through the fabric might be. Shit, focus, Luca.


    Then there were the gym uniforms¡ªmoisture-wicking, breathable, and made in the ship¡¯s colors. The shorts were... short. Not tight, but the kind that rode up when you moved, showing just a bit too much leg, maybe even a peek of bum if you weren¡¯t careful.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Hey, these are actually nice,¡± Danny said, holding up his workout gear, completely oblivious to the fact that Zoe was practically undressing him with her eyes. She flashed him a smile so bright and hungry it could¡¯ve melted a lesser man. I swore I saw her fingers twitch, like she was resisting the urge to reach out and adjust his collar or something. God help us all.


    I forced myself to snap out of it, rubbing a hand over my face as if that would clear the images. ¡°Alright, alright. You win this time,¡± I said, trying to play it cool. ¡°Everyone grab your box¡ªor boxes, rather¡ªand let¡¯s get suited up.¡±


    As the crew started gathering their new gear, I couldn¡¯t help but glance back at the loungewear, my imagination firing on all cylinders again. This is going to be fun. Sure, it was completely impractical, and I was still mentally calculating how many credits we¡¯d blown on this stuff, but seeing everyone in those outfits? Yeah, I wasn¡¯t complaining. I just hoped I¡¯d survive it without embarrassing myself.


    ***


    I grabbed my own boxes, the weight surprisingly hefty. Time to see if these things were as bad as they looked.


    Carrying the three boxes up to my cabin, I couldn¡¯t help but grin like an idiot. Sure, the clothes were skimpy¡ªokay, really skimpy¡ªbut I couldn¡¯t deny it: the girls had outdone themselves. The color schemes, the ship¡¯s livery stamped on everything, even the socks... They¡¯d thought of everything. My original plan had been simple: matching coveralls for basic protection and cohesion, nothing fancy. But Emily and Zoe had gone full runway fashion show and given everyone a damn wardrobe.


    By the time I reached my quarters, I was out of breath. I dropped the boxes onto my desk and opened the first one, letting out a low whistle at the neatly folded uniforms. They were soft¡ªalmost luxurious¡ªand I ran my hand over the material, half-impressed, half-annoyed. Then I spotted the undergarments. Boxer briefs. Of course. I preferred boxers¡ªloose, free, and, you know, breathable. But looking at the tight, form-fitting outfits they¡¯d picked, I knew boxers weren¡¯t going to cut it.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    I stripped down, folding my jeans, hoodie, and boxers with the kind of precision Dad would¡¯ve been proud of. The boxer briefs went on first, and I had to admit¡ªthey were snug but comfortable. Then came the main event. The bodysuit.


    Slipping one leg in, I immediately started doubting my life choices. The material hugged my calf like it was trying to choke it. ¡°How the hell is this supposed to fit?¡± I muttered, hopping on one foot as I worked the suit over my thigh. The other leg wasn¡¯t any easier, and by the time I got the thing up to my waist, I was bouncing around the cabin like a madman.


    ¡°Shit,¡± I hissed, trying to yank it higher without tearing it. Finally, with a deep breath and a lot of effort, I shoved my arms in and zipped the thing up. The fabric clung to me like a second skin, squeezing every muscle and curve. And yeah, there was definitely a wedgie situation going on.


    ¡°Fucking hell,¡± I groaned, adjusting awkwardly.


    I walked over to the mirror, bracing myself for the worst. But when I saw my reflection, I froze. Wide-eyed, I stared at the guy in the mirror¡ªlean, athletic, and... damn.


    ¡°Damn,¡± I whistled, tilting my head to get a better look. ¡°I look good.¡±


    The suit wasn¡¯t terrible. It had pockets, which was a win in my book, as well as belt loops to hang a utility belt, and the built-in tech panel on the sleeve was pretty cool. Curious, I tapped the panel and scrolled through the options. It showed my vitals¡ªheart rate, temperature, all that fun stuff¡ªbut the color customization caught my eye.


    I picked silver-gray, watching as the white bodysuit shifted subtly, filling in with a sleek graphic design. The thin V-shaped graphic stretched from my shoulders to my crotch. Right to the crotch.


    ¡°Oh god,¡± I muttered, staring at the bold design. ¡°This is going to be awkward.¡±


    I tried to look at the positives. The suit felt comfortable, and it made me look like a proper space captain. But walking around with a crotch-high V and everyone else in matching outfits? Yeah, this was going to take some getting used to. With a resigned sigh, I turned toward the door. Time to face the crew. Let the awkwardness begin.


    Shaking my head, I decided to just get it over with. The sooner I faced the crew, the sooner this whole uniform thing would be behind us.


    ***


    The door to my quarters slid shut behind me with a soft hiss, and I stepped out into the corridor, the new uniform hugging every inch of me like it was custom-molded to my body. The matching boots added a little extra spring to my step, and I was already half-wondering how the rest of the crew would react when I saw Emily stepping out of her cabin.


    ¡°Holy shit!¡± we said in unison, both of us freezing mid-step.


    My brain short-circuited. Her uniform¡ªwhite with red accents¡ªwas like something out of my most vivid daydreams. The narrow V design that started right between her legs and ended below her breasts in an upturned crescent drew attention exactly where it was supposed to, leaving nothing to discussion. Her blonde ponytail framed her face perfectly, softening the intensity of those green eyes that now had me feeling about five degrees too warm.


    ¡°You... uh, you look... so hot,¡± I stammered, my voice cracking like a goddamn teenager. And I meant it. The suit clung to her in ways that made my brain do somersaults. Her chest, her hips, every curve¡ªit was like the universe had decided to showcase everything in high-definition, and I wasn¡¯t ready.


    Emily blushed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink that somehow made her look even more irresistible. She crossed her arms over her chest, but honestly? That just made it worse. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said shyly, looking anywhere but at me. ¡°You look...¡± She trailed off, clearly struggling to find words.


    I grinned, leaning into the moment. "Like my uniform?" I asked smugly, shifting my weight and subtly flexing my bicep, just enough to make the fabric of the uniform tighten a little. Not like I was trying to show off or anything. Okay, maybe a little. If I couldn¡¯t stop myself from drooling over her, I might as well distract her with some humor.


    Emily laughed, the sound bright and warm. She stepped forward and gave me a playful punch on the abs, her knuckles brushing against the unforgivingly tight material. ¡°You ass,¡± she said, shaking her head but smiling. "The uniform definitely... suits you." She winked, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe a little too much."


    Damn, she''s not pulling any punches, is she? And is it just me, or did her fingers linger for a second there? Focus, Luca. Don''t make this weird. Or do... No. Focus!


    ¡°Come on,¡± I said, offering her my arm. ¡°Let¡¯s go see how the others look in their new threads.¡±


    As she hooked her arm through mine, she glanced up at me, her teasing smirk firmly back in place. ¡°Did you like the undies we chose?¡±


    I swallowed hard, my mind instantly flashing to the snug boxer briefs. ¡°They¡¯re... different,¡± I said, trying not to sound like a total idiot. ¡°But I guess I can get used to them. What about you two? What did you pick for yourselves?¡±


    Emily winked at me, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°Just wait and see.¡±


    Her arm pressed against mine, and I felt the heat of her body through the thin material of our uniforms. It was innocent enough¡ªa casual touch¡ªbut my imagination was already in overdrive. What did she mean by ¡°wait and see¡±? Was her underwear even more revealing? Would I even survive seeing the whole crew in these outfits? My thoughts spiraled, one image blending into the next: Emily lounging on the observation deck in sheer loungewear, Zoe in those gym shorts doing stretches, even Ryan and Danny in their workout gear, because apparently, my brain was equal-opportunity horny.


    That was it. Game over. The warmth of her body against mine, even through the thin fabric of their suits, was too much. The tightness in my boxer briefs turned into a full-on situation, and I fought the urge to adjust myself right there in the hallway. Shit, shit, shit. Focus on something else. Stars. The ship. Engine specs. Anything but how her chest feels so close¡ª


    ¡°Easy there, Captain,¡± Emily teased, her voice light but sharp enough to make me want to crawl into the nearest airlock.


    My face went nuclear. ¡°Sorry, I¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± she said, cutting me off with a gentle squeeze of my bicep. Her touch lingered just long enough to send a fresh wave of heat through me. ¡°I can¡¯t say I blame you.¡±


    Her words hung in the air, the playful edge of her tone doing absolutely nothing to help my situation. I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure. Focus, Luca. You¡¯re the Captain. Act like it.

 Chapter 2 - Thanks Dad

    Together, Emily and I made our way to the mess hall, my heart pounding as much from anticipation as the snugness of my uniform. Every step through the corridors of the Triumph of Darron made me acutely aware of how the suit clung to my body, highlighting everything¡ªeverything. And if I felt exposed, I could only imagine what the others would look like.


    When we reached the mess hall entrance, Zoe was already there, leaning against the doorframe like she¡¯d been plucked straight from a magazine spread. Her long legs looked impossibly sleek in the form-fitting suit, the material hugging her in ways that should¡¯ve been outlawed. The zipper of her uniform was pulled down just enough to draw attention to her small chest, a tease of almod skin visible beneath. She caught me looking and smiled, running her hand down her waist like she knew the effect she had.


    ¡°Damn, Zoe,¡± Emily exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. ¡°You look incredible.¡±


    Zoe tilted her head, her smirk widening. ¡°Thanks. I guess this suit does have its advantages.¡± Her voice was light, but her eyes were practically daring someone to disagree.


    Holy shit, I thought, trying to keep my expression neutral. How am I supposed to focus with this going on?


    Before I could say anything, Joey walked up, his uniform stretching taut over his broad shoulders and chest. And, yeah, there was no missing the way the material left absolutely nothing to the imagination below the belt. Joey didn¡¯t even look embarrassed¡ªin fact, he was grinning like this was the best day of his life.


    ¡°We¡¯re never going to be able to concentrate with all these distractions walking around,¡± he said, his tone half-joking but his gaze lingering on Zoe.


    Ryan strolled in next, his sandy blonde hair as messy as ever, but his uniform made him look like some kind of space model. The sleeves clung to his arms, showcasing muscles that, let¡¯s be honest, deserved to be shown off. He grinned as he approached, flexing just a little as he slid into the group. ¡°Speak for yourself, Joey. I¡¯m just glad I can finally show off my muscles without having to wear a tank top.¡±


    Okay, Luca, breathe, I told myself. Between Ryan¡¯s casual confidence, Joey¡¯s unintentional thirst-trap vibe, and Zoe¡¯s deliberate smolder, my brain was on fire. And then there was Emily beside me, the warmth of her body brushing against mine, her suit highlighting every curve¡ªdamn it, focus.


    Danny shuffled in next, tugging at his uniform with an annoyed groan. ¡°Can we just appreciate how uncomfortable these new uniforms are? I feel like they¡¯re constantly riding up.¡±


    I almost laughed at the sight of Danny¡ªfreckled, red-faced, and clearly out of his element¡ªbut even he managed to make the outfit work. The snug material showed off his lean frame in ways I hadn¡¯t noticed before, and the way his curly hair shifted slightly as he moved made him look oddly endearing. Why is everyone on this ship so ridiculously attractive?


    ¡°The lady told us they¡¯ll break in,¡± Emily said, her voice soothing. ¡°It should be wicked comfortable after a couple of wears.¡±


    Meanwhile, Chris walked in behind Danny, cool and confident as ever. His jet-black hair framed his face perfectly, and his suit practically glowed under the mess hall¡¯s lights. The bulge in his pants was... noticeable, and he clearly didn¡¯t give a damn. Seriously? Is this my life now?


    I stepped back slightly, my gaze sweeping over the team. Zoe¡¯s dimples, Emily¡¯s curves, Joey¡¯s confidence, Ryan¡¯s charm, Danny¡¯s endearing awkwardness, Chris¡¯s cool swagger¡ªevery single one of them looked like they¡¯d stepped out of a fantasy.


    Years of fighting together, of building trust and risking our lives for each other, had led to this. A crew so hot they could melt steel beams just by walking into a room. My chest swelled with pride¡ªand something a lot less noble¡ªas I looked at them. We¡¯re doomed, I thought. Absolutely doomed.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± I said, trying to play it cool as I clapped my hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s focus. Everyone looks... great.¡±


    We finally gathered around the mess hall¡¯s oversized table, everyone crammed into seats that were clearly not designed with this many egos in mind. I sat at the head because, well... I was the Captain. My table... was already scratched and scuffed, already broken in, even though we hadn¡¯t left yet. We''d need to be more careful around here if we wanted things to last, I thought, and I drummed my fingers against the surface, stalling for time. The chatter died down, and all eyes turned to me.


    God, I hated this part. Speeches. They were awkward and unnecessary. Everyone here knew what they were doing¡ªor at least pretended to¡ªand I wasn¡¯t about to act like I had some profound wisdom to drop on them. Still, Captain duties and all that. I leaned forward, elbows on the table.


    ¡°Alright, listen up,¡± I started, keeping my tone casual because that¡¯s all I had. ¡°I know this whole setup¡¯s new. The ship, the uniforms, the tiny gym shorts. Yeah, it¡¯s tight, and yeah, it¡¯s weird. But we¡¯ll figure it out.¡± I paused, letting my eyes sweep across the crew. ¡°Just don¡¯t fuck up too badly, alright?¡±


    That earned a few laughs, and I couldn¡¯t help but smile. Humor: 1, Awkward Silence: 0.


    Leaning back, I stretched my arms behind my head like I wasn¡¯t winging every word. ¡°Let¡¯s get the last of the cargo loaded and get moving. The sooner we¡¯re out there, the sooner we start making history.¡±


    The crew nodded, murmuring their agreements as they stood to head off to their tasks. The table emptied, leaving me sitting there for a moment, staring at the now-vacant seats.


    Do we have everything? Hell if I knew. We had food, fuel, and enough gear to at least pretend we were ready. That¡¯d have to be enough. The rest? We¡¯d figure it out as we went, or we wouldn¡¯t. Either way, the clock was ticking, and Alpha Centauri wasn¡¯t getting any closer.


    This was my team. Flawed, ridiculous, way too attractive for my sanity, but they were mine. And somehow, I had to keep them alive, functional, and hopefully out of each other¡¯s pants long enough to complete the mission.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ¡°Great pep talk, Captain,¡± I muttered under my breath, standing up and heading for the door. Let¡¯s see if we can survive launch without blowing something up.


    ***


    The mess hall had cleared out, leaving me alone. I shook my head, trying to clear my brain. Right. Loading. We needed to finish loading the ship.


    I headed towards the cargo bay, the hum of the Triumph''s systems growing louder with each step. As I rounded the corner, I saw the crew struggling with a particularly large crate, its metal edges groaning under the strain. Or rather, most of the crew.


    "Easy, easy!" Danny was saying, his voice tight with anxiety. He was practically hovering over the crate, his hands outstretched as if he could prevent any damage through sheer force of will. "We need to be careful. That contains sensitive calibration equipment. If we jostle it too much¡ª"


    "Relax, science boy," Ryan said, his tone far too casual for someone who was supposed to be helping. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching Emily, Zoe, and Chris grunt and push. "They''ve got it."


    "A little help here, Ryan?" Emily grunted, her face flushed from the effort. The muscles in her arms were straining against the fabric of her uniform, and for a moment, I was too distracted to be annoyed.


    "Yeah," Zoe added, her voice low and slightly breathless. "Unless you''re planning on carrying this thing to Alpha Centauri yourself?"


    Ryan pushed himself off the wall with a lazy grin. "Fine, fine. But someone should''ve grabbed a pallet jack. My back isn''t what it used to be." He sauntered over to the crate, finally deigning to add his strength to the effort.


    As they inched the crate forward, its metal legs scraped against the floor, making me wince. "Guys, guys! Watch the floor!" I called out, hurrying over. "The ship is brand new! You''re going to scratch it all up."


    "Maybe if someone helped instead of just supervising," Chris muttered under his breath. He adjusted his grip, his biceps bulging.


    "Seriously," I said, trying to regain some authority, "We need to lift, not drag. There are pallet jacks for a reason." I gestured to the controls on the side of the crate.


    "Yeah, yeah," Ryan said, waving me off. "We''re almost there. Just a few more feet." With a final, combined heave, they shoved the crate into place, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the bay.


    Panting slightly, Zoe leaned against the crate, her chest rising and falling. She shot me a grin. "See? We got it. No scratches."


    I ran a hand over the floor, inspecting for damage. "Just try to be more careful next time, okay?" I said, trying not to sound too much like a nagging parent. "This isn''t some beat-up freighter. It''s our home now." I paused, then added, "And a very expensive one at that."


    Danny, ever the pragmatist, was already scanning the crate with a handheld device. "Readings are nominal," he announced, relief evident in his voice. "No damage to the equipment."


    "See? We''re professionals," Ryan said, clapping Danny on the back a little too hard. Danny stumbled, and I saw Zoe''s hand twitch like she wanted to steady him. Interesting.


    "Alright," I said, clapping my hands together, "Let''s get the rest of this stuff loaded. And someone grab a pallet jack this time. Please." I shot a pointed look at Ryan, who just grinned back, unrepentant.


    ***


    I stood near the loading bay, watching them hustle to get the last of our supplies onboard. This was it¡ªthe moment we¡¯d been building toward for months. The Triumph of Darron was about to embark on its maiden voyage into the unknown, and I was leading the charge with my closest friends by my side. No pressure or anything.


    Running a hand through my hair, I tried¡ªand failed¡ªto ignore the wedgie creeping up my butt. The damn bodysuit was tight as hell, but Emily swore it would ¡°break in¡± eventually. For now, it just felt like a polite, fabric-covered assault on my dignity. Still, she¡¯d chosen this for the crew, and I wasn¡¯t about to half-ass it. Fine, bodysuit. You win this round.


    Emily glanced my way and flashed me a quick smile before returning to her work, her blonde ponytail swishing as she moved. Focus, Luca. Focus on the ship. The mission. Literally anything else.


    The final crates were secured, and the crew started drifting toward the bridge. For a moment, I felt a pang of sadness. We were leaving everything behind¡ªthe station, the platform, the only life we¡¯d ever known. But that was the point, wasn¡¯t it? To go where no man has gone before?


    As I turned toward the bridge, I saw Dad making his way toward me. His timing was impeccable, as always. Athan Rossi¡ªthe man who¡¯d taught me everything I knew about space and survival, now watching me take my first real steps as Captain. It was weird seeing him like this, not as the commander of the Genesis Platform, but just... my dad.


    ¡°Hey, Dad,¡± I said, pulling him into a quick, awkward hug. ¡°Glad you made it.¡±


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t miss this for anything,¡± he replied, his voice steady but warm. ¡°A journey into uncharted territory. I¡¯m proud of you, son.¡±


    The words hit harder than I expected. I stood a little straighter, nodding as if I wasn¡¯t completely floored. ¡°Thanks, Dad,¡± I said, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.


    His eyes flicked down to my uniform, and his lips twitched with the kind of amusement that only a dad could manage. ¡°You¡¯re really going to travel through space in that?¡± he asked, gesturing at my snug outfit.


    I grinned, even as my cheeks burned. ¡°Emily promised it¡¯ll loosen up after a few wears,¡± I said, tugging at the fabric riding up my thighs. ¡°And hey, it¡¯s supposed to protect against cuts and scrapes. Fashion and function, right?¡±


    He shook his head, laughing softly. ¡°Well, let¡¯s hope it holds up. I brought you something to make the journey a little easier.¡± He held up two cases of wine, his expression softening in a way I wasn¡¯t used to. ¡°For celebrating new discoveries¡ªor just surviving the day.¡±


    I froze for a second, staring at him. Celebrating new discoveries? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he being literal, like, ¡°Good job finding a new planet, here¡¯s a toast¡±? Or was there more to it? Dad wasn¡¯t exactly the ¡°wink-wink, nudge-nudge¡± type. Since Mom died, he¡¯d been all business, all the time¡ªfocused, serious, the kind of guy who measured success in results, not feelings. And yet, here he was, holding wine like we were about to party our way through Alpha Centauri.


    Was he telling me to cut loose?


    My mind went into overdrive. Was this some kind of subtle dad-code for ¡°go out there and enjoy the hell out of life¡±? Was he telling me to celebrate everything I discovered? Planets, new species, Emily¡¯s body, Ryan¡¯s tight ass¡ªholy shit, stop thinking. But seriously, what if he meant it like that? Was this some weird father-son bonding moment where he was low-key telling me to¡­ explore?


    No. No way. This was Athan Rossi. Mr. Stoic. He couldn¡¯t possibly mean¡ªcould he? I tried to shake off the thought, but my brain wasn¡¯t letting it go. Damn it, Dad. Be clearer with your cryptic life advice!


    I glanced at the cases of wine, my grip tightening around the handles. ¡°Uh, thanks, Dad,¡± I said, my voice steady even as my brain continued its internal meltdown. ¡°I¡¯ll, uh, make sure it gets used for... appropriate celebrations.¡± Smooth, Luca. Very smooth.


    He gave me a knowing look, the kind that made me feel like he could see through every bullshit layer I was trying to hide behind. ¡°Good,¡± he said simply, patting my shoulder before turning to greet the rest of the crew.


    As I watched him walk away, I felt like I was missing something¡ªa joke I wasn¡¯t in on, or maybe just another one of those dad moments that only made sense years later. My thoughts drifted back to Emily, the way her uniform hugged her curves, and to Ryan, who had no right looking that good in anything. Celebrating new discoveries.


    Was that Dad¡¯s way of saying, Go live your life, kid? Go screw around? Or just¡­ don¡¯t be afraid to feel something? I sighed, hefting the wine cases. Either way, the man had dropped a philosophical grenade on me and walked off like it was nothing.


    Fine, Dad. I¡¯ll figure it out. Eventually. Probably. Maybe after a glass of this wine. Or three.

 Chapter 3 - Separation

    Okay, here we go. Time to wrangle these idiots. "Alright, everyone," I clapped my hands, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. Which, let''s be real, I usually didn''t.


    My eyes snagged on Emily, holy shit. That bodysuit¡­ tight as hell. And it was riding up her back just enough. Damn, she looked amazing. Like, a straight-up firecracker. And she knew it, with that little smirk and a wink. She was doing that on purpose.


    She sauntered over, pecked me on the cheek, "Alright, Captain," she said, all teasing and batting her eyes at me. She knew she was hot, the way she strutted away, that sway in her hips.


    Danny shuffled past, his eyebrows practically touching as he tugged at the collar of his uniform. "This thing''s tighter than a vacuum seal," he muttered, his voice a mix of annoyance and resignation. "I swear I just heard it squeak when I moved.¡±


    And of course, Ryan, that little shit, jumped in. ¡°Here, let me fix that wedgie for you, Danny.¡± Asshole. Tugging at his suit. Danny yelped, "Get your hands off me!" Face bright red. Ryan always had to mess with Danny. I¡¯d probably do the same thing, if I¡¯m being real.


    ¡°You two are hopeless,¡± I muttered, shaking my head. They were like a couple of toddlers. Still, I¡¯d die for those two knuckleheads, wouldn''t admit it though. They were idiots.


    Okay, with all the last-minute stuff finally done, we were all in our spots on the bridge of the Triumph of Darron, ready to rock and roll. Zoe, our navigation officer, was front and center, looking like she was born to pilot this damn ship. I¡¯m pretty sure she slept with a star chart under her pillow.


    To her right, Emily was all focused, her eyes scanning the screens like she was dissecting them. She was a real looker when she was concentrating like that. If I didn''t know better, I''d say she wanted to be here more than me. Maybe I was wrong, but damn if I wasn''t curious.


    Ryan and Danny were off to the side, like the nerdy science and engineering department, hunched over their consoles. Those two were a pair of tools sometimes, but when push came to shove, they knew their jobs. They were arguing about some pointless crap as usual. On Zoe¡¯s left were Joey and Chris, the newbies, but not really. They were like the older brother types who hung out with us back in the day. Joey''s got this quiet intensity about him, like he was carrying the weight of the world, which he kind of was, what with his dad being a grade-A shitbag and all. But underneath that brooding, he was solid. A good dude.


    Chris, on the other hand, was all smiles and energy. The guy just radiated positivity, it was almost sickening, bet he was glad to be part of the crew. He was a last-minute addition, someone to bring along with Joey. But all that charm was just hiding the fact that he was a beast in combat, yeah, we had that going for us.


    ***


    Okay, everyone was in position. I took a deep breath, the kind you take before jumping off a cliff. "Alright, initiate undocking procedures," I said, trying to sound all captain-y. Like I knew what the hell I was doing.


    "Alright, everyone," I said, settling into the captain¡¯s chair. My voice sounded steadier than I felt, which was all that mattered. "Initiate undocking procedures. Let¡¯s do this clean."


    ¡°You got it, Captain,¡± Zoe responded, her fingers already moving over the controls. She had that cocky little smirk that said she could do this blindfolded. The Triumph of Darron rumbled softly, the engines humming alive beneath us. The vibrations carried through the deck, like the ship itself was just as eager as I was.


    "Docking clamps disengaged," Emily reported, her tone steady. "Jetbridge retracted. All systems nominal."


    ¡°Copy that,¡± I said, watching as Zoe began the delicate work of easing us out of the bay. ¡°Nice and steady.¡±


    Chris leaned into his console, toggling the comms. ¡°Genesis Platform, this is Triumph of Darron,¡± he said, his tone all business. It suited him, even if I could tell he was barely holding back a grin.


    A short burst of static came through before the reply: ¡°Triumph of Darron, this is Genesis Traffic Control. We read you loud and clear. What¡¯s your status?¡±


    ¡°Traffic Control, we are undocked and maneuvering clear of the bay,¡± Chris replied smoothly. ¡°Requesting departure clearance.¡±


    ¡°Roger that, Triumph,¡± came the response. ¡°You are cleared for departure. Proceed on vector zero-seven-one until you are 10 kilometers clear, then resume your planned course. Safe travels.¡±


    ¡°Copy, Traffic Control,¡± Chris said. ¡°Proceeding on vector zero-seven-one. Thank you, Genesis.¡±


    The Triumph glided smoothly away from the platform, Zoe working the controls like the damn artist she was. The massive structure of Genesis shrank in the viewport, its spindly construction like a web against the stars. It looked smaller already, which was saying something. I swallowed a weird lump in my throat. Nostalgia or nerves? Could¡¯ve been both.


    "Ship¡¯s clear," Zoe announced, her voice calm but smug, like she¡¯d just nailed a perfect landing. Which she had, in reverse.


    "Confirmed," Emily added. "All systems green. You¡¯re good to set our course when ready, Captain."


    Chris switched the comms. ¡°Genesis Traffic Control, this is Triumph of Darron. Clear of the platform and proceeding on departure vector.¡±


    "Copy, Triumph. You are cleared to engage your next sequence. Safe journey, and we¡¯ll see you on the other side." The radio crackled one last time before falling silent.


    And just like that, we were on our way.


    Chris thanked them, ending the transmission with a smooth, practiced move. He turned to me, gave me a thumbs-up and a wide grin, all teeth and boyish charm. ¡°That was easy,¡± he said.


    I tried to keep it cool, but a small laugh escaped my lips. ¡°Don¡¯t get too comfortable yet, Chris. We still have a long way to go.¡±


    Just then, the comms panel on Chris''s console chirped, a rhythmic pulse indicating an incoming priority message. He tapped a control, his brow furrowing slightly. "We''ve got a priority one hail from Genesis, Captain," he reported, his voice all business. "It''s Commander Rossi."


    I nodded, straightening up a little in my chair. "Patch it through to the bridge speakers, but keep it formal." This wasn''t just a casual chat; it was a message to the entire crew, and potentially being recorded for the logs.


    Chris manipulated the controls, his fingers moving with practiced ease. A soft tone echoed through the bridge, signaling the open channel.


    "Triumph of Darron," a familiar voice filled the bridge, rich with authority. "This is Commander Athan of the Genesis Station. Please confirm receipt."


    "This is Captain Luca Rossi of the Triumph of Darron," I replied, my voice echoing slightly in the sudden formality. "We read you loud and clear, Commander. Go ahead."


    There was a brief pause, a moment of static that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Then, my father''s voice, a little softer now, but no less commanding. "To the crew of the Triumph of Darron, I extend my official best wishes for a successful and safe voyage. You have trained hard, and you are prepared for the challenges ahead." He paused, clearing this throat.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "You carry the hopes of many with you," Athan continued, his tone gaining strength. "The success of this mission, the data you gather, will be invaluable to the United Earth Republic, and the IFC. Remember your training, rely on your crewmates, and conduct yourselves with honor and integrity. Genesis Station will be monitoring your progress. We expect great things."


    "We will do our best, Commander," I said, glancing around at the crew, who were all listening intently. "Thank you for your support."


    "Don''t worry, Commander," Emily chimed in, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "We''ll keep him in line."


    "Good. Remember what I said about sticking together." He paused, then to me, "Luca. Lead them well, son. Make me proud."


    My throat tightened unexpectedly. "I will, Dad. I promise."


    "Good. Genesis Station out." The connection closed with a soft click, leaving a sudden silence on the bridge.


    I nodded, took a deep breath, and turned to face my crew. ¡°Alright, guys,¡± I started, trying to keep the excitement from making my voice crack. ¡°This is it. Our journey begins now.¡± I glanced around at each of them¡ªEmily, focused and ready; Zoe, smirking with anticipation; Danny, a little nervous, but determined; Ryan, already scheming, I just knew it; Joey, looking steady and resolute; and then, back to Chris, who flashed me another bright smile. Was he flirting with me?


    Across the bridge, Danny¡¯s fingers danced across his console, his brow furrowed in concentration as he double-checked the readings. On his screen, the Genesis Platform was already a distant speck, barely visible amidst the swirling chaos of the asteroid belt.


    Ryan leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied groan as he finished the final systems checks. He shot me a confident wink. "All green, Captain. Ready to punch it."


    Joey''s gaze swept over the crew, his eyes lingering for a moment on each of us. He tapped a few commands into his console, his expression unreadable. When our eyes met, he gave a curt nod. "Vitals are nominal," he reported, his voice calm and steady.


    I cleared my throat, because, you know, captain stuff. I hated speeches, but sometimes I gotta say something, right? I didn''t want to be captain, no one else did, so here I was, stuck. ¡°Alright, everyone, let¡¯s remember why we¡¯re out here.¡± Ugh, this sounded so lame, the words tasted like ash. I tried to sound like I knew what I was doing, like some action movie hero. ¡°We have a mission to explore the Alpha Centauri system and uncover its secrets.¡± I paused, met each of their eyes, trying to look all serious and professional. ¡°It¡¯s gonna be scary, exciting, and awkward at times, but I know we can handle it.¡±


    My words got a few chuckles out of them, and I couldn¡¯t help but grin. It was nice when they weren¡¯t looking at me like I was a complete loser.


    ¡°But seriously, guys,¡± I continued, ¡°this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Let¡¯s make the most of it and discover something extraordinary. If it goes well, we¡¯ll secure funding to continue these sort of missions in the future.¡± Okay, that was enough inspirational captain bullshit for one day.


    I took one last look at the disappearing platform, a mix of relief and anticipation swirling inside me before I settled back into my chair, my face set with some kind of determined expression. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get this show on the road. Engage primary thrusters, Mr. Mitchell. Ms. Woods, plot a course for the Oort cloud passage.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± they shouted back in unison, then burst out laughing. I couldn¡¯t help but laugh with them, they were a bunch of goddamn goofballs. The good kind.


    Ryan activated his control panel, and the Triumph of Darron kicked into gear, accelerating smoothly away from the asteroid belt. I leaned back, feeling the low hum of the engines vibrating through the ship.


    To my right, Danny was a statue, his eyes fixed on his sensor readings. Zoe, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of motion, double-checking her coordinates with rapid-fire movements. Her gaze flickered between the console, Danny, and Ryan, a hint of a smile playing on her lips whenever she looked their way, it didn¡¯t take a rocket scientist to know she''s got a crush. I felt a pang of empathy for her, it couldn¡¯t be easy being stuck between those two goofballs. I knew all too well how hard it was to admit feelings for someone when you''re around them all the time, especially if it was complicated. What was she waiting for? They were all idiots.


    With our duties done, the ship cleared the asteroid belt and set its sights for the Oort Cloud. Chris relayed our destination to flight control, the guy always seemed to know the right thing to say. One by one, they left the bridge, their tasks done for now as the ship shifted to autopilot. And then I was left alone. Fuck. Captain¡¯s log, I muttered to myself, today I gave a horrible speech, and everyone laughed at me.


    ***


    The cabin door slid shut behind me with a soft hiss, and I was alone, finally. For a minute, I just stood there, taking it all in. The walls were stark, like some kind of military prison cell, the furniture was too damn new to feel like mine, and the overhead lights were buzzing brightly, we should have installed dimmers. It wasn''t much, but it was mine for this trip, or however long this mess lasted. I could smell the sterile plastic, the recycled air, everything felt too clean, too new. I wanted to mark it, leave my stink on the place.


    I wandered over to the tiny desk by the viewport, placing the picture frame I brought from home right in the center. It was a shot of all of us, my mom, Maddie, smiling with that tired but warm look she always had; my dad, Athan, looking like he''d rather be anywhere but in front of the camera; and my brothers, Matteo and Alessio, grinning like a couple of idiots in matching Christmas sweaters. I ran my thumb along the edge, feeling the ghosts of the last real good holiday before everything went to shit. Before we lost mom. Before everything turned to dust.


    I shook off the nostalgia that was creeping into my chest, put the picture down, and turned my attention to the bed. The mattress looked like something straight out of a hospital, sterile and unwelcoming. Like they were expecting me to die here. I unzipped the bag holding my comforter and sheets, giving it a few jerky shakes that sent static crackling in the air. The warm, flannel comforter unfolded in my hands, soft and familiar against my skin. I threw it onto the mattress and smoothed it out with a few half-hearted swipes, ¡°Close enough,¡± I muttered. I could still smell the detergent, too clean.


    Next up were the crates at the foot of the bed. I popped the lid off the first one to find my standard-issue uniforms, neatly folded like I was some kind of military robot. I dumped the uniforms into one of the drawers, stacking them in uneven piles that sort of toppled into the drawers. The plastic smell of the factory still clung to them, a stark contrast to the familiar scent of home I was trying to create.


    The second box held my casual clothes, mostly gym clothes, those shorts and loungewear. My eyes landed on a set of flannel pajamas, green and black, and I snorted. Zoe and Emily¡¯s handiwork, 100 percent. They thought they were funny, those two. I bet they¡¯d planned this out for weeks. There were three sets, enough for a change, and for when the other two were dirty. They were soft though, they¡¯d be nice and cozy at night.


    The third box was heavier. Boots, spare gloves, and other gear. I pulled out the boots first¡ªwhite, matching the bodysuits, with that clean, no-nonsense look that screamed crew uniform. They had magnetic soles, too, for when gravity inevitably decided to take a day off. Practical. Fine. They were even velcro, because apparently we¡¯re kindergartners now, incapable of handling laces. I bet Emily and Zoe thought that was hilarious.


    They looked like they¡¯d be comfortable, though. Probably needed breaking in, but they¡¯d do the job. I tucked them into the bottom of the wardrobe carefully, right where boots belonged. Gotta take care of your boots¡ªthey¡¯re the only thing standing between you and the vacuum of space. These ones still smelled new, like rubber and whatever synthetic leather substitute they used. It wasn¡¯t bad, but it wasn¡¯t right, either. My old boots? They smelled like leather and sweat¡ªa good smell. Familiar. Like they¡¯d been through hell and back with me. These ones had some work to do before earning that kind of loyalty.


    By the time I was done, the room looked a little less like a storage closet, and more like it might actually belong to me. It was still not perfect, I''ll likely be shuffling all this stuff around for days. I could still smell the emptiness.


    I sat down at the desk, elbows on the surface, staring out at the endless black through the viewport. Out there, somewhere, was the Oort Cloud, and beyond that, Alpha Centauri. It was huge, too big almost, but then I looked back at the photo, and felt a sense of duty wash over me. I had to do this for them, for mom. It was the only way to make the world right.


    I glanced around the cabin, now slightly more lived-in. I dug into my duffel bag and pulled out my old RISK board game. The worn box felt familiar, grounding. I spent countless hours playing it with my brothers, the sound of our laughter echoing in the kitchen back on Earth. I set it down on the shelf above the desk, letting my fingers linger for a moment. I could almost hear them yelling at each other, the stupid strategy we used to argue about.


    Then, I pulled out my Energy Tomahawk, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. It had been with me on so many missions where stealth and precision meant the difference between life and death. The metal felt cold, but right, in my hand, like a natural extension of my arm. It reminded me of the danger that was always waiting for me, the blood I had spilled. I placed it carefully on the desk beside my laptop, the weight of it both reassuring and a little terrifying.


    I leaned back in my chair, my gaze drawn to the viewport. 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 us further and further from home. I pictured the crew in their own cabins, unpacking, making their own spaces, hopefully not tearing each other to shreds.


    The picture frame on my desk was slightly crooked. I reached out and adjusted it, aligning it perfectly with the edge of the desk. Mom, Dad, Matteo, Alessio¡ªall smiling back at me, frozen in a moment of happiness from a lifetime ago. A wave of longing washed over me, so strong it almost took my breath away.

 Chapter 4 - Unpacking

    The corridor was quiet except for the soft hum of the ship, a constant, low reminder that we were out in the middle of nowhere. I leaned against my cabin door, glancing up and down the hallway. My brain¡¯s practically screaming at me: Captain, shouldn¡¯t you be doing something important? But there really wasn''t much to do; the autopilot had like twenty uneventful days mapped out ahead, and I was restless as hell.


    I started with Emily''s cabin, two doors down, because, well, it was Emily. I knocked twice, waited a beat, then peeked my head in before she even answered.


    ¡°What do you want?¡± Her voice carried from behind a pile of clothes she was tossing onto her bed. Damn, she¡¯d already got everything strewn everywhere, what a mess.


    I stepped inside, like the oblivious jackass I was. ¡°Just checking.¡± Smooth, Luca, real smooth.


    ¡°Checking, huh?¡± She stood up, hands on her hips, and she''d got that look in her eyes, the one that said "you''re about to piss me off."


    ¡°Maybe I can help?¡± I offered, trying to be helpful, maybe a little too eager for her attention.


    Emily just gave me that look, then sighed, like dealing with me was the most exhausting thing in the world. "Out. I¡¯ve got unpacking to do.¡± Her body language was screaming "space," and for some reason, I couldn¡¯t seem to read the room.


    Before I could even process what was happening, she was ushering me backward, out through the door. It slid shut with a soft hiss, leaving me standing there, staring at the cold, metallic surface. Okay, maybe I should just let her be.


    I turned, frowning, and walked towards Chris¡¯s cabin. His door was wide open, which wasn''t really surprising. I glanced inside, his bed wasn¡¯t even made, boxes were scattered on the floor, and he was nowhere in sight. It was like he just dumped everything in there and vanished.


    ¡°Gym rat,¡± I muttered, shaking my head. Chris was probably already bench-pressing something heavy, sweat-slicked, and grinning like an idiot as he ¡®broke in¡¯ the equipment. I could see him, muscles bulging, the veins in his arms popping, sweat dripping down his chest. It''s the kind of stuff I¡¯d do, if I had more time and energy to be a jackass.


    Ryan¡¯s cabin was next, so I rapped my knuckles against the doorframe, poking my head in without hesitation.


    ¡°Luca! Come in, come in!¡± Ryan waved me in from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, unpacking a ridiculously fancy poker set. The silver metallic box gleamed in the light, and the neatly stacked chips looked way out of place in this ship. What a show-off.


    ¡°Fancy,¡± I said, crouching to get a closer look. ¡°Marshalls, you said?¡± My eyes were drawn to Ryan¡¯s hands, the way his fingers moved, quick and agile.


    ¡°Last-minute buy,¡± Ryan said, grinning like he¡¯d just pulled off a bank heist. ¡°Figured we¡¯d need something classy for poker night on the edge of the universe.¡±


    ¡°Classy is a stretch,¡± I said, thumbing one of the chips. It did have some weight to it, I¡¯ll give him that. I could feel the subtle grooves of the chip under my finger, felt the subtle weight of it.


    Ryan laughed, and we were both grinning like idiots. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s see what Danny¡¯s up to. If anyone needs distracting, it¡¯s him.¡±


    We headed to Danny¡¯s cabin, and it was the complete opposite of Chris¡¯s chaos. Everything was meticulously organized, everything unpacked and squared away. Danny looked up from his desk, where he¡¯d been fiddling with a small holographic star map. He was all focused, his brow furrowed, like he was solving a puzzle.


    ¡°Hey, guys,¡± he said, leaning back in his chair. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡±


    Ryan flopped onto Danny¡¯s bed, not even waiting for an invitation. ¡°Nice place. Tidy, boring, but nice.¡± He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. ¡°You see Zoe in that uniform? She looks incredible.¡±


    ¡°Can we not?¡± I said, running a hand down my face. Ugh, here we go. I hated how predictable we were.


    Ryan propped himself up on one elbow, smirking. ¡°What? You¡¯re telling me you didn¡¯t notice? Come on, Captain, you¡¯re not that professional.¡± He knew how much I noticed.


    Danny shook his head, already knowing what we were. ¡°Ignore him, Luca. It¡¯s easier.¡±


    ¡°I''m just saying!¡± Ryan continued, ¡°Zoe is looking like a snack, I bet you anything she''s got one hell of a bubble butt under those pants." He clapped his hands, "Just saying."


    ¡°And Emily¡­¡± I started, picturing her in my head. ¡°Emily, man¡­¡± The way her breasts strained against the fabric of her uniform, I could imagine burying my face there.


    ¡°I know what you mean,¡± Ryan said, his eyes lighting up. ¡°It¡¯s like, she can''t help but be a smokeshow. I bet those things of hers are like soft pillows.¡±


    Danny rolled his eyes, ¡°You guys are unbelievable! Seriously? Are you two always going to be like this?¡± He sounded annoyed as hell, and I could see the muscles in his jaw tighten.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°What, jealous?¡± I joked, nudging him with my elbow.


    Ryan chimed in, ¡°Maybe we just need to loosen you up Danny. You¡¯re always so focused on facts and science. How about we go for some girl-watching?¡±


    I laughed, "That¡¯s rich, you have a crush on everyone."


    Ryan, chuckled, ¡°Guilty as charged!¡± He paused, his mind wandering, ¡°But, I wonder what Zoe would look like with¡­¡±


    Danny interrupted, ¡°Okay, okay, enough! Can we please focus on our mission or do literally anything else?¡±


    Ryan, winked, "Fine, fine, no girl talk." He paused for a beat, "So¡­ back to the mission? Do you think Zoe likes how Emily fills out her uniform more than she does when she sees Emily?" The pervert.


    I snorted, "Yeah, I can see that. Emily has a huge advantage." I leaned into Danny''s ear, "Poor Zoe, maybe we should make a club for people who get overshadowed by other, larger¡­ assets?"


    Danny threw his hands up, ¡°I¡¯m done. I¡¯m going back to my star map. You two are hopeless.¡± He shook his head, and turned back to his map.


    ***


    This day was a blur, like a bad dream where I was forced to move boxes all day long. We were hauling supplies out of the hangar, all those heavy MREs and flash-frozen food, and it was like a never-ending game of Tetris. Me, Ryan, and Joey were taking turns maneuvering these carts stacked so high they looked like they were gonna tip over any second, dragging them across the decks to the kitchen. Every time we hit a corner too fast, the stack teetered like it was about to topple, earning groans from Joey, and laughter from me and Ryan, especially when that stupid package of vacuum-sealed broccoli went skittering across the floor. Of all the things to spill¡­ it had to be broccoli, the most pathetic of the vegetables.


    ¡°Careful!¡± Danny barked from across the hallway, struggling to keep his own load of science instruments balanced. ¡°That box you just bumped? Yeah, it¡¯s full of very delicate instruments.¡±


    Ryan just grinned, shifting a box of wires precariously on top of another. ¡°Why do they all look like overpriced soda cans?¡± He was teasing him, that little shit.


    ¡°Ryan!¡± Danny¡¯s voice cracked with exasperation. The dude was about to blow a gasket, I swear.


    I shook my head, trying not to laugh. ¡°We¡¯ll be lucky if half your equipment still works by the time it reaches your lab.¡± It was all just a mess, boxes everywhere.


    The real battle came later when we started setting up the lounge. The pool table alone was enough to make me reconsider the whole concept of recreational furniture. Moving that thing turned us into a pack of sweating, swearing caricatures of ourselves, and by the time it was finally in place, I was ready to swear off pool for life.


    And it made you wonder, with all the technology we had, why couldn''t they invent robots or androids to handle this kind of work? I mean, we¡¯ve got spaceships that travel faster than light, but we were still lugging around boxes like cavemen. I''d invest my own goddamn credits if we could get some help around here. Seriously, where is the AI when you need it?


    The lounge finally looked like something resembling livable by the time the sun¡ªor a sad imitation of it from the ship¡¯s artificial lighting¡ªhad set. The big TVs were mounted, the video game systems were powered up, and the sleek furniture was arranged around the electric fireplace. It was almost enough to make me forget how much I hated chores. Almost.


    ***


    That evening, Joey took over the kitchen, all Gordon Ramsay with his ¡®get out of my way¡¯ vibe. He was yelling over his shoulder at anyone who dared to offer help. The result, though? The food was incredible. The smell of garlic, spices, and something sweet and caramelized filled the air. My stomach rumbled, but also, something else¡­ Plates clattered as we sat down at the long mess hall table, the sounds of laughter and conversation echoing off the walls. For a minute, it almost felt normal. I could smell the rich sauce, the herbs, it was making my mouth water.


    ¡°This,¡± Ryan said, shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth, ¡°is what I call a proper send-off. None of that bland freeze-dried crap.¡± His cheeks were full, and he was grinning.


    ¡°Enjoy it while it lasts,¡± Joey said, smirking as he waved his fork in the air. ¡°The good stuff¡¯s going to run out before you can blink.¡±


    ¡°Which is exactly why we need to make the most of what we¡¯ve got,¡± Emily interjected, leaning forward like she was about to make an important announcement. I thought she was about to praise


    Joey, but no¡ªthis was Emily, so of course, she had a plan. ¡°That includes keeping the lounge sacred.¡±


    Ryan blinked at her. ¡°The lounge?¡±


    Emily nodded, setting her fork down with authority. ¡°Shoes off, loungewear only. It¡¯s supposed to be a sacred space.¡± Her voice was firm, her eyes gleaming with that weird kind of determination she got whenever she started organizing things. I could see the muscles in her arm tighten as she straightened up. Maybe she should be our leader; that would be hot.


    I groaned quietly. Here we go. She was on a roll, and I wasn¡¯t about to stop her.


    Zoe, of course, chimed in immediately, nodding in agreement. ¡°Yeah, nothing¡¯s ruining that vibe. If you want to hang out there, you¡¯ve gotta play by the rules.¡± Those two were totally on the same page, a dangerous combo, to be honest. And I couldn¡¯t deny that their faces had a sort of excited sparkle to them. What were they planning? They were definitely up to something.


    Danny, chewing on a piece of bread, squinted. ¡°The loungewear is, like, completely see-through, though. Is no one else weirded out by that?¡±


    Chris leaned back, crossing his arms with a grin. ¡°It¡¯s not completely see-through, and it¡¯s just the seven of us, Danny. If everyone¡¯s in loungewear, what¡¯s the big deal?¡± Oh shit, now this was getting interesting. I looked at Chris, the way his muscles stretched under his shirt, I knew he had to be thinking the same thing. I swear he could read my mind.


    ¡°It¡¯s the principle of it!¡± Danny protested, his voice rising with indignation. ¡°I don¡¯t want to feel like I¡¯m in some sci-fi fashion magazine ad every time I grab a snack.¡± I was with you on that Danny, but for completely different reasons. My mind was now racing, I couldn¡¯t wait to see everyone in the loungewear. I wondered if I would be able to see¡­ enough.


    Emily just shrugged, like she was dealing with a toddler. ¡°Consider it bonding. Besides, the rules are non-negotiable.¡± Oh, they were definitely non-negotiable, and I was kind of okay with it. This was going to be a mess, a good mess.


    ¡°You¡¯re both tyrants,¡± Ryan said, pointing a breadstick at her and Zoe. ¡°I hope you know that.¡± He was probably just as curious as I was.


    Emily grinned sweetly, like she¡¯d already won. ¡°And you¡¯ll thank us when the lounge is spotless and zen, not smelling like somebody¡¯s sweaty boots.¡± She¡¯d laid down the law, and I was trying to keep my face neutral but all I could think about was getting a full view of their figures. This was going to be interesting. This was my life now. Captain''s log, Luca muttered to himself, today Joey made a feast, Emily became a tyrant, and I was curious as hell about that see-through loungewear.

 Chapter 5 - The Day After

    After dinner, the crew scattered to their rooms to change into their designated loungewear. I lingered in the corridor for a minute, watching the others retreat, their doors sliding shut with those soft hisses. I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck, that restless energy still bubbling just under the surface. It was hard to believe we were really doing this.


    Pajamas, uniform bodysuits, and now loungewear? The thought played on repeat as I stepped inside my cabin and sealed the door behind me. Who changes clothes this much in one goddamn day? It was like we were in some kind of intergalactic fashion show.


    Kicking off my boots, I started peeling off the snug bodysuit, the fabric clinging stubbornly as I tugged it over my shoulders. My muscles, still aching from hauling all those damn boxes, felt immediate relief as the pressure eased. My chest felt all tight and confined.


    ¡°Finally,¡± I muttered, tossing the suit into the laundry chute. That thing was practically molded to my skin after hours of moving supplies. It had been too tight. I stretched, relishing the freedom and the way my skin tingled. The girls had insisted on packing plenty of spares, which was good because these things were going to need daily washing. Between the sweat and the overall¡­confinement, I doubted anyone could bear to wear the same one twice.


    I reached for the folded loungewear on the shelf. Pulling on the loose pants and matching shirt, I immediately noticed the difference. The fabric was soft, like air, and so light against my skin. It was a complete reversal from the bodysuits. I glanced down and frowned. My boxer briefs were clearly visible through the sheer fabric of the pants.


    ¡°Ugh,¡± I groaned, adjusting the waistband as if it would help. Well, at least everyone else was in the same boat. The thought brought some comfort, but not enough to quell the awkwardness. This is what leadership looks like, right? Leading by example, showing my underwear to the whole ship? I had to laugh, the absurdity of it all.


    I smoothed out the shirt and glanced at myself in the small mirror by my desk. Yeah. Good example. Sure. I rubbed the back of my neck again, then took one last look at my reflection before heading out. The fabric was barely concealing anything, I looked like I was ready for a photoshoot.


    The corridor was quiet, the faint hum of the ship the only sound as I made my way to the lounge. My steps slowed as I approached the doors. What if no one else showed up dressed like this? What if Ryan decided to buck the rules just to be difficult? He¡¯s definitely the type. Maybe I should just go back and¡­ yeah, no.


    Stop overthinking it, Luca, I told myself. It¡¯s just clothes. Yeah, see-through, practically naked, clothes. Totally normal. I shook my head and pushed through the doors to the lounge, ready for whatever the fuck was waiting on the other side. I could feel the blood rushing.


    ***


    I flicked on the lounge lights, the soft glow bouncing off the sleek furniture and the polished pool table. The electric fireplace hummed to life, those simulated flames casting a warm, flickering glow against the walls. It was actually pretty nice, like a real place we could hang out, instead of just a metal box hurtling through space. I dropped onto the plush leather couch in front of the video game console, letting out a long breath.


    ¡°First one here,¡± I muttered to myself, a smug grin creeping across my face. I couldn''t help it, I was kind of excited about this. Everyone else must be mulling it over, maybe even freaking out a little. I pictured Ryan pacing in his cabin, grumbling about the loungewear rules, and Danny triple-checking his outfit for accidental transparency. I snickered at the thought, then grabbed the controller and powered on the console.


    The main menu lit up the screen, a colorful collection of game titles that immediately soured my mood. Damnit, most of them required an active internet connection, something that was impossible out here. But then, Ryan came through again, jailbreaking the system before we left. Two-player mode was still functional, a small victory, but a vital one. Fucking Ryan, always the sneaky bastard.


    The door slid open with a soft hiss. Ryan strolled in first, his usual swagger undercut by the faint blush on his face. He plopped down next to me, his sheer loungewear leaving little to the imagination, and he seemed acutely aware of it. Damn, those muscles were on full display, I thought, admiring the contours of his body. I wondered how he felt under that thin fabric, if he felt as good as he looked.


    ¡°Alright, Captain, happy?¡± Ryan said, spreading his arms as if to display his outfit. ¡°This better be worth the hype.¡± His voice was a little higher than usual, and I knew he was just as self-conscious as I was.


    Danny followed close behind, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. ¡°You know,¡± he muttered, ¡°I¡¯m not sure about this whole¡­translucent thing.¡± Okay, so Danny wasn''t exactly thrilled about this. His cheeks were flushed, and he was carefully keeping his arms close to his sides, like he was trying to hide something. He looked like a kid in a new pair of shoes.


    ¡°No rebels in this crew, huh?¡± I teased, tossing the controller onto the coffee table. I was honestly surprised they actually followed the rules. For a bunch of rule breakers, they were all surprisingly compliant.


    Ryan snorted. ¡°You¡¯re lucky Zoe and Emily are making these rules, or I¡¯d be in gym shorts and calling it loungewear.¡± He was trying to play it cool, but I could see the way his gaze kept darting down to his own body, checking, double checking.


    ¡°Sure you would,¡± I said, leaning back into the couch. I was still trying to process the view. Ryan was, as always, a total package of athletic prowess, but then I took a proper look at Danny, and holy shit. He was toned as well, his body not as bulky as Ryan¡¯s, but lean and defined. He hid it so well under his usual clothes. He was hot, like, really hot, in a quiet, unassuming way. I suddenly understood why Zoe seemed to be so into him.


    We¡¯d been fighting monsters side by side for years, seen each other in the buff plenty of times out of necessity, but this was different, this was our space, in our ship, where we could let our guard down. And now they were here, almost naked, and all I could think was ¡°this was going to be a long trip¡±. This was going to be a goddamn nightmare.


    ***


    The door slid open again, and Zoe and Emily walked in, chatting animatedly, their loungewear doing little to hide the outlines of their bras and panties. The sheer fabric clung to all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination, while also leaving plenty not to. They were acting completely at ease, oblivious to the fact that they¡¯d just derailed every coherent thought in my head. The way they moved, it was like a dance, all fluidity and grace.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    My mouth went dry. My gaze darted from Emily¡¯s easy smile to Zoe¡¯s confident stride, catching every subtle detail in between, the way the soft fabric shifted against their skin, the light catching the curve of a hip, the delicate strap of a bra. It was all too much. My brain was screaming at me to stop staring, but my body refused to cooperate, like some kind of horny traitor. My mouth might as well have hit the goddamn floor. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my ears.


    Holy shit. I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. How was this even legal? Were they trying to kill us all with sex appeal? Their bodies were like sculptures, all curves and lines and soft, inviting skin.


    The other guys weren¡¯t faring much better. Ryan seemed intensely focused on a random spot on the wall, as if he was trying to memorize the pattern, probably trying to ignore the way he was hard as a rock. Danny had practically buried himself in his seat, like he was trying to become one with the couch cushions. He looked like he wanted to disappear.


    Emily was the first to break the silence, her smirk as sharp as the edge of a blade. ¡°You boys look cute,¡± she said, draping herself onto the arm of the couch right next to me. Her hip brushed against my shoulder, and I froze, caught between self-consciousness and the overwhelming realization that Emily Carter was right there, touching me. I could smell her perfume, a light, floral scent that made me ache.


    Zoe rolled her eyes, her own smirk playful. ¡°It¡¯s called equality. If we¡¯re dealing with this, so are you.¡± She moved with a casual confidence that made my skin tingle.


    I managed to snap my jaw shut, but my thoughts were still racing. Equality, my ass. I¡¯m pretty sure this was just torture, they were doing this on purpose. They had to know how hot they looked, how they were making me feel, it was some kind of cruel game. I wanted to hate them for it, but I couldn''t.


    Chris entered fully now, his imposing frame filling the doorway. The loungewear fabric clung to his broad shoulders and bulging muscles, and I couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of insecurity as Chris casually tossed a pool cue stick to Ryan. Seriously, was he trying to make me feel inadequate? The way the fabric stretched across his chest¡­ it was a lot. And yet I still wanted to touch him. I was a goddamn mess.


    ¡°Alright, who¡¯s up first?¡± Chris asked, his grin all confidence. The way his eyes sparkled, the way his muscles rippled under the sheer fabric, it was almost too much to handle.


    ¡°Me and Danny,¡± Ryan said, grabbing another cue. ¡°Loser buys dinner next time we hit port.¡± He was practically vibrating with energy, a smug little shit. I could practically see the competitive fire burning in his eyes.


    ¡°Bold of you to assume there¡¯s anywhere to buy dinner,¡± Danny shot back, taking his position at the pool table. He was trying to play it cool, but I could see the faint flush on his cheeks, the slight tremor in his hands. The poor guy, he was probably as overwhelmed as I was. I bet he would break if I touched him.


    Joey arrived last, muttering to himself as he browsed the movie catalog on the main screen. ¡°What is this crap? Half these movies look like they were pirated by someone¡¯s grandpa.¡± He was clearly not impressed, but then, Joey¡¯s never impressed by anything. He was likely just annoyed that he wasn¡¯t the center of attention.


    ¡°Welcome to our life now,¡± Ryan said over his shoulder, lining up his first shot. ¡°Better find something good, or Zoe¡¯s picking.¡± He was so focused on the pool table, like it was some kind of life or death competition. I bet he was probably picturing himself as some kind of cool movie star, showing off his skills. The way he leaned over the table, the way the fabric clung to his back¡­ it was a lot to process.


    Zoe smirked, settling into a chair with a drink. ¡°You say that like it¡¯s a bad thing.¡± She was right, I had no doubt that she''d pick the most terrible movie imaginable, just for the hell of it. I knew she was a force to be reckoned with.


    I shut the console off, leaning back into the couch and letting the atmosphere of the room wash over me. The hum of the fireplace mixed with the faint clack of the pool balls and Joey¡¯s quiet grumbling as he scrolled through the movie titles. The warm light from the lamp cast the room in a golden glow, making the sleek lounge feel cozy and inviting. It was almost like we¡¯d created a real place to relax, despite it being a metal box in the middle of the void. And I was stuck here, surrounded by incredibly hot people, my mind going a million miles an hour. This was going to be a long, torturous trip. I was so fucked.


    I glanced around at everyone, trying to ignore the knot that was forming in my stomach. And then, my eyes landed on Emily. She was laughing with Chris about something, their faces illuminated by the electric fireplace, and a pang of jealousy hit me hard. He¡¯s got this easy charm, and Emily was practically glowing in his presence, and it made something inside of me boil. She had that soft, inviting look on her face, like she wanted him, and I hated it.


    I¡¯d had a crush on Emily since I was, what, 12 or 13? And somehow, it was hitting me all over again, like a freight train straight to the chest. And there was Chris¡ªfucking Chris¡ªall muscle, charm, and that easy, infuriating smile, standing there like a goddamn Greek statue flirting with my girl. Not that she¡¯s my girl, I reminded myself, but still. It felt like a fist squeezing my heart, sharp and sudden, making me want to lash out or punch something. Or maybe just sulk in a corner like some lovesick teenager.


    I kept hoping¡ªpraying¡ªthat Chris wasn¡¯t actually flirting, that he was just being his usual friendly, annoyingly perfect self. Because if he was flirting? I was screwed. There¡¯s no competing with Chris. The man was a literal masterpiece, and me? I was just... me. The thought made my chest tighten, a pout threatening to creep onto my face, but I buried it. No way was I letting anyone see that. It made me feel like a kid competing with an adult, and I hated it.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Danny sneaking glances at Zoe. It wasn¡¯t subtle¡ªevery time she laughed or tilted her head, his eyes flicked toward her like he couldn¡¯t help himself. Danny and Zoe, I thought, smirking slightly. Always a thing, even if they don¡¯t say it out loud. She¡¯d been flirting with him all day, and he¡¯d clearly been soaking it up. The guy was cute¡ªfreckles, dimples, the whole package¡ªbut he always seemed so unsure of himself. If anyone could pull him out of his shell, it was Zoe.


    Ryan, meanwhile, was completely focused on Chris, his gaze darting toward him whenever he thought no one was paying attention. So, I¡¯m not the only one feeling threatened. Great. At least I wasn¡¯t alone in the "Chris is stealing our spotlight" department.


    And Zoe? She was doing what she does best¡ªwatching everyone with that sly little grin that said she knew exactly what was going on. Mischief radiated off her like a beacon. She¡¯d caught Danny¡¯s glances, of course she had, but she was taking her time, letting him squirm just enough to make it interesting.


    Emily, on the other hand, was either oblivious to the tension or enjoying every second of it. She had this knack for walking into a room and becoming the center of everyone¡¯s attention without even trying. And Chris? He was leaning into it, which only made my chest tighten more. Relax, Rossi. It¡¯s just Chris being Chris.


    For a moment, it all felt strange but... okay. Like we were just existing, all of us in the same space, caught in the absurdity of our situation but somehow making it work. It wasn¡¯t exactly peace, but it was something close. A truce, maybe.


    I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I closed my eyes, trying to shake off the tension coiled in my muscles. It was a good ache, though, from all the moving and laughing. It made me feel real, alive, like I could handle this. Yeah, I can do this. We can all do this¡ªeven if Chris is secretly trying to steal my girl.


    When I opened my eyes again, something caught the light¡ªChris, standing just right so his bulge was unavoidably there, clear as day. And Emily? Her gaze wasn¡¯t on him. It was on me. She winked.


    She knew.


    Heat rushed to my face so fast I thought my head might explode. Damn it. I forced myself to focus anywhere else, but the damage was done. This trip was going to be so much more complicated than I thought. And if Chris wasn¡¯t careful, this wasn¡¯t just going to be a mission to Alpha Centauri¡ªit was going to be hell.

 Chapter 6 - Deviation

    The mess hall buzzed with the sounds of clinking plates and murmured conversation as the crew gathered for breakfast. I stood at the head of the table, carefully pulling out my wedgie, armed with a printed chore list I''d cobbled together the night before, and I felt like the most annoying dickhead ever. I tapped the paper with two fingers, drawing everyone¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Alright, listen up,¡± I began, raising my voice over the scraping of utensils. ¡°I know nobody wants to hear this, but we¡¯ve got to keep this ship clean. That means daily chores.¡± A collective groan rippled through the group. Yeah, I know, I''m a buzzkill. I could feel their annoyance, their silent resentment.


    ¡°First up,¡± I said, glancing at the list, ¡°vacuuming the corridors. All four decks, every day. It¡¯s better to stay on top of it than let things build up.¡±


    ¡°I call Deck Three,¡± said Ryan immediately. ¡°Shortest corridor.¡± Of course he did, the lazy bastard. He was always looking for the easy way out.


    ¡°Not how this works,¡± I shot back, glaring over my paper. ¡°We rotate. Everyone takes a deck. And while we¡¯re at it, a quick mop every other day. Not crazy, just enough to keep it looking decent.¡±


    ¡°I hate mopping,¡± said Zoe, leaning back in her chair. ¡°Can¡¯t we just skip that?¡± Please, don''t give me a hard time first thing in the morning. I could feel a headache forming.


    ¡°Sure,¡± I said, deadpan. ¡°And we¡¯ll all enjoy slipping and breaking our necks.¡± I wanted to bang my head on the table. Why did I even become captain?


    Zoe rolled her eyes, but Emily stifled a laugh beside her. I hoped Emily had slept alone in her room last night, and not with him. Oh well. I tried to ignore the pang of jealousy.


    ¡°Next,¡± I continued, ignoring them, ¡°bathrooms. Weekly chore¡ªthank god¡ªbut that means everyone¡¯s taking a turn. I don¡¯t care how ¡®gross¡¯ it is.¡±


    ¡°Gross is an understatement,¡± said Danny muttering. ¡°Have you seen what Ryan eats?¡± He was probably remembering the last time they had to clean the bathroom.


    ¡°I¡¯m right here!¡± said Ryan, gesturing with his fork. The way his eyes widened, I could tell he was genuinely offended.


    ¡°Good. Then you¡¯ll clean the bathroom after breakfast,¡± I replied with a smirk. Take that, you lazy ass. He was an idiot, but he was my idiot.


    Danny snorted into his coffee, and Ryan glared at him before I pressed on. I had to resist the urge to join in on the teasing.


    ¡°Dishwashers and kitchen cleaning¡ªdaily,¡± I said firmly. ¡°That includes wiping down counters, cleaning the sinks, and making sure the appliances aren¡¯t a biohazard.¡±


    Joey raised his hand. ¡°Does that include the stove? Because whoever cooked last night didn¡¯t wipe it down.¡± He was being a dick on purpose.


    ¡°I cooked,¡± Joey added, ¡°so it wasn¡¯t me.¡± Of course it was. He was trying to deflect, but he wasn''t fooling anyone.


    ¡°That¡¯s part of the job,¡± I said, fixing him with a look. ¡°And folding laundry? Daily. No exceptions.¡± I felt like such a mom, and I hated it.


    Chris groaned, leaning back in his chair. ¡°Laundry¡¯s one thing, but folding it? Really?¡± His muscles bulged as he stretched, and I couldn¡¯t help but notice. Why was he so attractive, even when he was complaining?


    ¡°Yes, really, and ironing¡± I said. ¡°Unless you want to wear wrinkled loungewear for the next six months.¡± I internally grinned, I can''t wait to see them in that fabric again.


    ¡°I¡¯m okay with wrinkles,¡± Chris muttered. Yeah, okay, we all know you have a goddamn God body, Chris. No need to rub it in. I had actually slept pretty well, despite how much I was thinking about Emily.


    I woke up in my own bed, all alone, and I hoped that she¡¯d been in her room too, but who knows? It would suck if she spent the night with Chris. Anyway, here I was, being a boring captain, trying to keep them all in line, but all I could think about was them.


    ¡°Lounge cleaning,¡± I continued, raising my voice to drown out the complaints, ¡°Daily as well. That includes picking up after yourself. No leaving dirty mugs, snack wrappers, or whatever else you people drag in there.¡± I swear, you¡¯d think we were all teenagers living in a frat house, not highly trained professionals on a mission.


    ¡°What about the cabins?¡± asked Emily, raising a hand. Smart question, Emily, very smart. She was thinking the same thing I was, the mess that would inevitably accumulate behind closed doors.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Cabins are your responsibility,¡± I said. ¡°But if they start looking like disaster zones, I¡¯ll have to inspect them.¡± And then who knows what I''ll find there?


    ¡°Oh no,¡± said Zoe, feigning shock. ¡°The horror of a Captain¡¯s inspection.¡± She was totally just messing with me, and I wasn¡¯t sure if she knew how much I wished that were a real thing. I could imagine her room, all messy¡­ I needed to stop these thoughts.


    I ignored her, glancing back at the list. ¡°The recycler doesn¡¯t need to be handled daily¡ªthank god¡ªbut if it¡¯s full, someone needs to take care of it. No excuses.¡± I swear, if I have to deal with a broken down recycler¡­ I was going to lose my mind.


    ¡°What if someone doesn¡¯t want to do their chore?¡± asked Ryan, his tone almost gleeful, like he was already planning something. That little shit was always looking for trouble.


    ¡°The airlock is right there.¡± I said. That got a laugh from the group, even as Danny leaned over to whisper to Ryan, ¡°He¡¯s not joking, is he?¡± I''m not. I wanted to see how far I could push them, what I could get away with.


    I folded the paper and tucked it into my pocket. ¡°The goal is to bust through these after breakfast. Get it all out of the way so we¡¯re not dreading it the rest of the day.¡± I needed to get this over with so I could have some time to myself.


    ¡°And then?¡± Joey asked, poking at the last of his scrambled eggs. He wasn''t as enthused as the others about all this work, he was likely already planning on shirking his responsibilities.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s up to you,¡± I said. ¡°Instrument calibration, unpacking, gym time¡ªwhatever you want. Speaking of which, gym¡¯s mandatory, but since the space is small, go whenever it works for you.¡± Now we¡¯re talking. I was already picturing myself there, muscles pumping, sweat dripping.


    ¡°Finally, a good rule,¡± said Chris, perking up. Of course he likes the gym rule. Show off. He was probably already flexing in his head, the smug bastard, but hey, so was I.


    ¡°Do I have to?¡± groaned Zoe. She was probably just being dramatic; she enjoyed the gym as much as we all did; I¡¯d seen her enjoying the treadmills back at the Genesis Platform, usually surrounded by her fan club.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said firmly, hoping I¡¯d bump into her at the gym. ¡°That includes everyone.¡±


    The group dissolved into bickering, complaints about chores mingling with jokes about whose turn it was to mop the most annoying corners of the ship. I leaned back in my chair, sipping my coffee. They''d complain, sure, but I could already see the routine settling into place. It was just a matter of making it work, keeping the ship clean, and keeping everyone busy, including myself. I needed to stay focused, stay in control, but they were making it so hard.


    For now, it was a waiting game¡ªbut at least they¡¯d stay busy. And maybe, just maybe, I¡¯d finally get a moment to check out everyone at the gym later. Yeah, that was something to look forward to.


    ***


    I stepped onto the bridge, the soft hiss of the door fading behind me. The air was cooler here, the hum of the ship¡¯s systems steady and constant. It was a nice change from the stuffy, humid laundry room. Zoe was at the navigation console, her dreadlocks past her shoulder, exposing her neck, and did she look good. She was totally in her element, as she studied the navigation map projected on the main screen, looking flustered. She was checking our location in the route, pausing every few moments as she cross-checked the ship¡¯s position against the plotted trajectory. I could watch her do that all day.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, still feeling a little damp after dealing with the mess of socks, sweat-soaked shirts, and more stinking underwear than any person should have to handle. I swear, if I have to do that again I''m going to lose it. My hands still felt damp and smelled like dirty socks.


    ¡°Deviation,¡± replied Zoe without looking up. ¡°Three percent off-course. Not a lot, but over 1800 AU, that¡¯ll cost us days if we don¡¯t fix it.¡±


    Shit. Not good. I frowned, glancing at the map. We¡¯d plotted a clear route to the Oort Cloud Passage. The last thing we needed was to veer off and slam into some rogue asteroid¡ªor worse, a debris field.


    The Oort Cloud Passage. Just saying it out loud made it feel like something straight out of a sci-fi novel, but it was real. Two massive, clear-as-day corridors¡ªone from Sol to Alpha Centauri and another from Sol to Barnard¡¯s Star¡ªcutting through the icy chaos at the edge of our solar system. No debris, no rogue ice, no orbiting bodies to worry about. A clean shot, like someone¡ªor something¡ªhad cleared the table and left the rest of us guessing why.


    Nobody knew for sure whether it was natural or another trick from the System, but one thing was clear: without these passages, FTL travel wouldn¡¯t just be dangerous¡ªit¡¯d be suicidal. At the speeds we were talking about, even a microscopic grain of ice could punch through the ship like a bullet through glass. And considering we were all crammed into this shiny tin can of a spaceship, that wasn¡¯t exactly ideal.


    The passages were discovered a couple of years ago when Earth¡¯s exploration teams started pushing out toward the solar system¡¯s edge. Lucky for us, someone figured out these pathways were the only reason FTL travel could even be possible. That, and the fact that two FTL engines had been scavenged from portals. One was locked up in some UER research lab, getting poked and prodded by university scientists. The other? Sitting on the Triumph of Darron. Our ship. Our shot at making history.


    The FTL engine itself was... well, complicated. But from what I understood¡ªbarely¡ªit worked by slipping us between real space and subspace. Think of it like riding the edge of a wave, but that wave was light speed, and we were pushing past it. The engine generated some kind of field around the ship, shielding us from reality while we burned through the nothingness at speeds we weren¡¯t supposed to be able to hit.


    The catch? At those speeds, even the tiniest particle could become a nightmare. That¡¯s where the passages came in, giving us a clean, unobstructed runway straight to Alpha Centauri. No ice, no debris¡ªjust a long, empty stretch of space to light up the engine and pray it held together. It was genius. Or terrifying. Probably both.


    So here we were, on the edge of everything, about to push this engine¡ªand ourselves¡ªto the limit. The Oort Cloud Passage was our ticket to another star system, but it came with a hell of a warning label: Don¡¯t screw it up, or there¡¯s no coming back.

 Chapter 7 - Navigation and the Lounge

    I stepped closer, focusing on the map as Zoe adjusted the perspective. The plotted route and our current trajectory were out of sync, the discrepancy clear even to my untrained eye. The lines had separated just a bit, and it made my teeth ache. We were talking about outer space here, a small deviation could mean weeks of travel.


    "I thought Ryan handled that," I said. I mean, plotting the route based on her navigation was his job, right? He was probably screwing off, as usual. Typical Ryan.


    "He did," replied Zoe evenly, her tone not unkind but far from complimentary. "The autopilot overcorrected based on his inputs. It¡¯s small, but still wrong." She glanced at her monitor, her fingers dancing across the surface. She looked so in control, like she was born to do this. Which she kind of was, being the navigator and all.


    As if summoned, Ryan appeared at the doorway, a protein bar in one hand and an unmistakable chip on his shoulder. "What¡¯s wrong with my inputs?" he asked, crossing the room in a few easy strides. He looked all pissed off, his jaw tight. As if this was somehow an attack on him, personally.


    "They weren¡¯t wrong," said Zoe, her fingers still moving across the keyboard. "The autopilot just... misinterpreted them. It didn''t factor in the gravitational pull from the nearby moon." She paused, her fingers flying, adjusting the course on the monitor. She moved with such confidence, with such ease. It was mesmerizing. And a little distracting.


    Ryan leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the screen, that familiar cockiness in his expression. "We gave it all the necessary parameters, including gravitational and positioning data. It shouldn¡¯t be deviating,¡± he said. He was probably just trying to save face, like a little kid who got caught doing something bad.


    "Shouldn¡¯t and didn¡¯t are two different things," said Zoe, her voice calm but clipped. She paused, typing in a set of coordinates, meticulously accounting for the pull, and double-checking the star map before locking in the adjustment. "The autopilot AI can hallucinate sometimes. It¡¯s good, but not perfect. It over-relies on its internal database and fails to account for real-time positional shifts,¡± she said, finally taking her fingers off the keyboard, and looked directly at Ryan. God, she was good. "Did you, by chance, double check the positioning data after inputting the route?" The question hung in the air, innocent enough, but loaded with implication.


    Ryan frowned. "We spent hours calibrating it back at the platform. You¡¯re telling me it just... got creative?" He sounded genuinely frustrated, but now there was a hint of defensiveness too.


    "Yes," she replied, finally looking up at him. "Because that¡¯s what it¡¯s designed to do when it encounters variables it doesn''t fully understand, or variables that were not accounted for.¡± She emphasized the last part, ever so slightly. "It¡¯s better than nothing, but it¡¯s not infallible. It''s meant to learn, adapt, even improvise, but that means it can also make mistakes." She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering.


    I stayed quiet, sensing the tension brewing between them. Ryan folded his arms, his jaw tightening as he stared at the screen. Here we go, I thought, two of them, ready for a fight. Honestly, though, Zoe looked incredible right now. She was so focused, so in control. It was kinda hot, to be honest. If I didn''t know any better, I''d say she was turning him on, too.


    "I get it," Ryan said after a beat, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But if we keep overriding it every time it hiccups, we¡¯re going to waste more time than we save." He was so stubborn, so sure of himself. He hated being wrong. Typical engineer.


    Zoe turned back to the console, her voice calm but firm. "If we don¡¯t correct this now, that three percent becomes six, or worse. We''re not just flying from point A to point B; we''re navigating a complex web of gravitational forces, spatial anomalies, and temporal distortions. A minor error now can compound exponentially over time and distance. Trust me, Ryan, this is faster in the long run." She was so focused, so in control.


    The bridge fell quiet except for the soft tapping of Zoe¡¯s keyboard and the faint hum of the ship. I shifted my weight, glancing between the two of them. The air wasn¡¯t hostile, exactly, but it was heavy, like the stillness before a storm. Goddamn, it¡¯s so obvious, I thought, they need to get laid, probably. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and it was all the more obvious because it was two very hot people with a very clear problem. Not that I''d ever been laid, but still, I was sure it was that. They¡¯d been on this ship for two days, and they were already wound tight, like springs waiting to be released.


    Ryan sighed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But if it screws up again, we¡¯re recalibrating the whole system,¡± he said. Oh yeah, that was definitely a threat. A childish, pointless threat. Typical.


    "Deal," Zoe said, not looking up. Her fingers paused over the keyboard as she hit the final command, locking in the corrected course. The map shifted, the new trajectory aligning perfectly with our intended route. She moved with such purpose it made my skin tingle.


    "Done," she said, sitting back in her chair. "We¡¯re back on track." She looked relieved, a small sigh escaping her lips.


    Ryan muttered something under his breath and walked out, leaving me and Zoe alone. I hesitated for a moment, then leaned against the console beside her. I could smell her perfume, the faint scent of something floral and spicy. And maybe a hint of frustration.


    ¡°You okay?¡± I asked. I¡¯m probably making things worse, but I can¡¯t help myself. I was always stepping into situations that didn¡¯t involve me.


    ¡°Fine,¡± she said, exhaling slowly. Her eyes stayed on the screen, scanning the data as if double-checking her work. She looked so serious, so focused, it made my chest ache. ¡°Just... this stuff matters, you know? If we mess it up, it¡¯s not like we can pull over and fix it.¡± I wanted to reassure her, but I knew I couldn''t.


    I nodded, understanding the weight she carried in that moment. ¡°You did good.¡± Smooth, Luca. Real smooth. I hated how lame I sounded.


    Zoe didn¡¯t answer right away, but after a moment, she glanced at me, a faint flicker of gratitude in her eyes. ¡°Thanks.¡± Okay, maybe I didn''t totally screw that up. All I could think about was their unresolved sexual tension, they were so going to make out in the engine room later or something.


    ***


    The lounge buzzed with energy, the crew settling in for another night of movie-watching. The electric fireplace cast a soft glow, the snacks were piled high, and the opening credits of Terminator rolled on the oversized screen. Joey had already claimed the spot closest to the TV, narrating the movie with his usual mix of trivia and exaggerated enthusiasm, why does he always do this. It was like he was trying to prove he knew more than everyone else, that little know-it-all.


    ¡°Fun fact: James Cameron sketched this idea on a napkin,¡± Joey announced, tossing popcorn into his mouth like a goddamn seagull. I swear he practiced that move in the mirror.


    ¡°You¡¯ve told us that three times,¡± Zoe shot back, sinking into the other couch right against Danny, who had tried to scoot over but had run out of space. She stretched her legs out and flicked a pillow at Joey, smirking when it hit its mark. Damn, her legs are gorgeous, I thought for the hundreth time, my gaze lingering on her smooth, almond-colored skin. I sorta wanted to sneak a touch, just to feel the texture, but that would make me a creep. And I¡¯d probably get my hand slapped.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    ¡°Hey, respect the classics,¡± Joey retorted, dodging the next pillow with theatrical flair. He was such a drama queen, always trying to be the center of attention.


    I leaned into the corner of the couch, my focus divided between the screen and Emily, who sat beside me. She¡¯d curled up with a bowl of chips, her green eyes lighting up at the explosions on the screen, and my body felt like it was about to explode as well. Her shoulder pressed lightly against mine, and every so often, her fingers brushed mine as we both reached for the bowl. Stop moving Emily, I thought, you¡¯re going to make me hard. Her touch sent shivers down my spine, little sparks of electricity that had nowhere to go. I had to remember to act casual, cool, like I didn¡¯t notice. I wanted her hand to linger.


    ¡°You know, Terminator was revolutionary for its time,¡± Emily said, her voice animated. ¡°The way it combined practical effects with early CGI¡ªthis movie basically paved the way for modern sci-fi.¡± God, she¡¯s so smart, and beautiful. She knew so much about everything.


    ¡°You sound like Joey,¡± Ryan quipped from across the room, earning a laugh from Emily. He was such a jealous shit.


    ¡°Please,¡± Emily said, grinning. ¡°I¡¯m way more insightful.¡± She''s probably right. She was probably way more insightful than all of us put together.


    The room filled with laughter, but I caught the slight tilt of Emily¡¯s head, the way her ponytail brushed against her neck as she turned to me. Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself watching her more than the movie, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.


    When the credits rolled, Zoe grabbed the remote, spinning it in her hand like a baton, and I knew things were about to get messy. ¡°Okay, my turn to pick the next one,¡± she announced, leaning back like she¡¯d already won the argument. She was sitting way too close to Danny. Poor guy was perched by the armrest like he was ready to leap off the couch at any second. His face was flushed, his shoulders stiff, and he kept shifting like he thought maybe¡ªmaybe¡ªhe could scoot over and escape. Spoiler: he couldn¡¯t. Zoe wasn¡¯t going to let him. She was leaning in, brushing his arm just enough to drive him insane, and I swear, she was doing it all on purpose.


    ¡°No way,¡± Ryan said, sitting up straight. ¡°You already picked this one.¡± Of course he was ready to argue. He was such a predictable tool.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Zoe raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with mock outrage. She casually shifted closer to Danny, her thigh now pressed against his. He looked like he might explode. ¡°We all agreed on Terminator.¡±


    She had to be lying. She always did. That didn¡¯t stop her from flashing Danny a sly smile as she said it, her shoulder brushing his. He laughed nervously, the sound halfway between ¡°please help¡± and ¡°I might die.¡±


    ¡°You pressured us into it,¡± Ryan argued, crossing his arms. ¡°It¡¯s Emily¡¯s turn. She¡¯s the biggest sci-fi nerd here.¡± Oh yeah, she is. She probably knew more about this stuff than most directors.


    Emily perked up, her grin widening. ¡°Finally, someone acknowledges my superior taste.¡±


    Goddamn, she¡¯s adorable, I thought, watching the way her whole face lit up. Meanwhile, poor Danny was squirming like he was sitting on hot coals, and Zoe was relentless. She tilted her head toward him, whispering something I couldn¡¯t hear, but the way Danny¡¯s ears turned bright red told me everything I needed to know. The kid¡¯s doomed.


    ¡°Superior is a stretch,¡± Joey muttered, earning a half-hearted kick from Emily. He was just jealous that she got all the attention.


    ¡°Fine,¡± Zoe said, waving the remote like it was a sword. ¡°Emily can pick next, but I get the one after that. No backsies.¡± Her tone was playful, but she didn¡¯t stop leaning into Danny, her hand brushing his arm as she adjusted her position. He looked ready to either faint or bolt, and honestly? It was hilarious.


    Ryan groaned. ¡°Not Blade Runner. It¡¯s so slow,¡± he said. He always liked his movies fast, loud, and stupid.


    ¡°It¡¯s atmospheric,¡± Emily shot back, her tone firm but playful. ¡°And a masterpiece.¡± I had to agree with her on that one.


    The debate spiraled from there, with Ryan lobbying for Starship Troopers. ¡°It¡¯s not a crap movie!¡± he argued, gesturing with a half-eaten pretzel. He really loved that movie, it was kind of endearing, in a weird way.


    ¡°Oh please,¡± Zoe said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the couch, her thigh still pressed against Danny¡¯s. ¡°You just want to see the naked girls.¡± Her tone was sharp, but her grin was playful, her eyes flicking to Ryan like she¡¯d just called out the most obvious thing in the world. She wasn¡¯t wrong. Ryan was that predictable.


    Danny shifted uncomfortably, his face so red I thought it might start glowing. Zoe, of course, noticed. She noticed everything. She let out a mock sigh, shaking her head like she couldn¡¯t believe what she was about to do, and reached behind the couch. A second later, she pulled out a blanket, spreading it over her lap. ¡°Here,¡± she said, draping it over Danny¡¯s legs. ¡°You look cold. Can¡¯t have that.¡±


    Danny blinked, his whole body stiffening like the blanket weighed a hundred pounds. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m fine,¡± he stammered, but Zoe just smiled, settling in closer as if that settled it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she tilted her head toward him, her dreadlocks spilling over her shoulder.


    I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Danny gave a nervous laugh that sounded more like a dying engine. He looked like he wanted to crawl into the couch and disappear, and Zoe? She was loving every second of it.


    Ryan paused, his mouth half-open to respond. Before he could come up with anything, I leaned back on the couch, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. ¡°Are you sure you want to watch that scene in these clothes?¡± I asked, gesturing at the sheer loungewear, and god I hoped he didn''t. I might lose it. I was already about to lose it just by sitting here with Emily.


    Ryan blinked, then nodded as if giving the idea serious thought. ¡°Huh. Good point.¡± He was such an idiot, I couldn¡¯t believe how obvious I was. I wanted to smack myself, but it was still funny.


    The room erupted in laughter, even as Zoe rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re predictable,¡± she said, shaking her head. ¡°It¡¯s honestly kind of sad.¡± She was probably laughing at all of us.


    ¡°Predictable or consistent?¡± Ryan shot back, leaning into the arm of his chair with his usual smugness. ¡°You say sad, I say dependable.¡±


    He¡¯s trying, I¡¯ll give him that. Ryan could be so dumb sometimes, but there was something almost endearing about how hard he tried to make his arguments sound logical. Almost.


    ¡°That¡¯s one word for it,¡± Emily muttered, amusement clear in her voice as she reached for another chip. Her fingers brushed mine, and I swear my entire body lit up like I¡¯d been zapped with a taser. Calm down, Rossi. Don¡¯t be weird.


    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Danny cut in, his voice squeaking slightly as he raised his hands like he was calling for a ceasefire. ¡°Let¡¯s settle this. How about The Matrix? Sci-fi, action, no naked people¡ªunless you count Neo in the pod.¡± His voice cracked just a little at the end, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Good idea, Danny. Please, let¡¯s stop talking about naked people before you combust.


    Joey, who had been quiet up until now, perked up, his grin widening. ¡°But it¡¯s a really gross pod scene. That should count.¡± Of course, Joey would focus on that. The guy always zeroed in on the weirdest parts of movies.


    ¡°Not the same, Joey,¡± Danny said, his tone slightly strangled as he dodged a popcorn kernel Joey lobbed at him. ¡°Not the same.¡±


    Meanwhile, Zoe had made herself at home. She¡¯d leaned her head on Danny¡¯s shoulder, her hands tucked under the blanket she¡¯d spread over the two of them. Where her hands were exactly? No clue. But judging by Danny¡¯s bright red ears and the way his voice kept cracking, I could guess he was losing his mind. She shifted slightly, her body pressed closer, and Danny froze like a deer in headlights. It was hilarious. Poor guy couldn¡¯t even figure out where to put his arms.


    ¡°Children,¡± Emily muttered, rolling her eyes at Joey and Danny¡¯s antics before turning to Ryan. ¡°The Matrix isn¡¯t a bad idea, but it¡¯s not going to win. We need something with actual artistic merit.¡± She punctuated the point with a look that could have killed any argument dead.


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Zoe chimed in, a slight blush showing on her face, her voice smooth and playful, as she adjusted herself under the blanket. Danny flinched slightly but didn¡¯t dare move. ¡°Artistic merit. Thank you, Emily.¡±


    Ryan groaned, leaning back with his arms crossed. ¡°Fine. Just let the women take over, as usual.¡±


    ¡°Finally,¡± Emily said, her grin widening. ¡°So¡­ Blade Runner? Philosophical androids, atmospheric brilliance¡ªit¡¯s perfect.¡±


    Ryan muttered something under his breath about pretentious androids, but the decision had already been made. The crew resigned themselves to Emily¡¯s pick, the women victorious again. No complaints here, I thought, leaning back with a smirk.


    The real entertainment wasn¡¯t on the screen, though. It was Danny, stiff as a board under Zoe¡¯s blanket, trying not to melt into a puddle of awkwardness. And Zoe? She was having the time of her life. Poor kid never stood a chance.


    At least Emily sat by me tonight, a small victory, I guess, but it was enough to make my brain melt. And Chris seemed happy to sit by Joey tonight, they were sort of touchy with each other, their arms touching, and their legs entwined. Shouldn¡¯t that feel weird and gross? It was like some sort of weird, forbidden fruit that I knew I shouldn¡¯t be looking at, but I couldn¡¯t help it.


    Oh god, stop it Luca, and focus on Emily. Just focus on Emily, her laugh, her eyes, her gorgeous green eyes. Stop, Luca, I thought, just breathe.