The Flux Drive released its hold with a gentle shudder, the kind that ran through the ship like a sigh of relief. Stars snapped back into focus on the main viewscreen, no longer blurred streaks but sharp, unyielding points of light. Vega loomed ahead, a brilliant blue-white giant that dominated the void, its intense radiance forcing the filters to engage with a soft whine.

  “Emergence complete,” Nira said from the helm, her voice carrying the crisp satisfaction of a job well done. “We’re in the system, right on target.”

  Selene Deimos leaned forward in her command chair, scanning the initial readouts. Five months of compressed time behind them, and the first leg of the real journey complete. No hiccups. No surprises. Yet.

  “Full status reports,” she ordered. “Let’s confirm we’re where we need to be.”

  The department heads chimed in one by one, their voices overlapping in the efficient rhythm of a crew that had drilled this a hundred times.

  “Shields at full integrity. No solar interference detected,” Kalia reported from comms.

  “Life support nominal. O? levels are steady, hydroponics output up two percent from the jump looks like the coils played nice this time,” Anjali added from science.

  “Embryo vault secure. All pods green, no fluctuations,” Mira said, her tone laced with the quiet pride of someone who treated those tiny lives like her own.

  Amaya was next. “Medical clear. No warp-sickness reports beyond the usual. The crew’s holding strong.”

  Costa grunted over the comm from engineering. “Engines are cooling as expected. That Flux pulse was textbook coils didn’t even complain. Give me twenty for a full sweep, but we’re good to maneuver.”

  Jax, lounging at the pilot’s station with his usual swagger, couldn’t resist. “See? Told you the old girl had it in her. No need for your doom and gloom, Costa.”

  Costa’s response was immediate, his voice crackling with irritation. “Keep talking, lad. One lucky jump doesn’t make you a miracle worker. Wait till we hit a real snag then we’ll see if your fancy flying saves us or just paints a bigger target on our backs.”

  Jax chuckled, unfazed. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, old man. But if it keeps you sharp, have at it.”

  Selene cut in before it escalated. “Enough. Focus. Anjali, start the system scan. I want a full map, planets, asteroids, anything that looks like it could bite.”

  Anjali’s console lit up as she initiated the sweep. The Hope’s sensors reached out like invisible fingers, probing the Vega system. Data streamed in: the hot Jupiter gas giant whipping close to the star, a belt of debris that could yield metals if they had time to mine, and a cluster of rocky worlds farther out.

  Minutes ticked by in tense silence, broken only by the soft beeps of incoming data.

  “Scan complete,” Anjali said finally. “No hostiles, no unexpected traffic. But… jackpot on volatiles. The third planet’s got massive ice fields: water, ammonia, methane. Enough to top off the VersaForge for the next leg without breaking a sweat. And the composition’s pure; minimal contaminants.”

  Selene’s interest piqued. The VersaForge was the ship’s lifeline, a post-war wonder that reassembled recycled matter and nutrients into anything from tools to food with near-zero waste. But it guzzled volatiles like a thirsty engine, and their stocks had dipped during the warp. A top-up here could mean smoother sailing to Nova Tertius.

  “Explain the yield,” Selene said. “How much are we talking about?”

  Anjali pulled up the holo-projection, a 3D model of the third planet spinning above the table, its polar caps glowing with highlighted deposits. “Conservative estimate: enough water ice to replenish our reserves twice over. Ammonia and methane for the Forge’s chemical buffers could fabricate spare parts, medical supplies, and even boost hydroponics yield if we process it right. We’d be looking at a quick orbital skim or a landing op. Low risk; gravity’s light, atmo thin but stable.”

  Jax leaned in, eyes lighting up. “A pit stop with perks. I like it.”

  Costa’s voice crackled again. “Easy for you to say from up there. Landing means exposing the hull to whatever Vega’s throwing. And if those ice fields are unstable…”

  Jax answered back immediately. “You’re forgetting about the E.C.H.O. Skiff we tested last month. It can take a small party of five or six down to the surface and still have plenty of room for hauling volatiles. And Hope doesn’t even need to leave orbit.”

  Costa groaned and yelled, “Are you out of your mind, kid? That tin can isn’t even fully certified. How do you expect…”

  Captain Deimos recognised the full head of steam the engineer was building and cut him off. “Costa, hold on. Lieutenant McAlister has a point. We can send down the skiff and that way we don’t have to risk the whole ship.”

  Turning to address Jaxon. “Lieutenant McAlister, you are cleared to take the skiff down once we are in orbit.. But I want an open comm channel the whole time and you take someone from security and science with you. Understood?”

  Jaxon snapped to attention, almost as giddy as the first day of flight school. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.”

  He turned to Lieutenant Davikar. “Davi, do you have anyone qualified for this trip?”

  Lieutenant Davikar answered, “Yes, I believe Ava Wilson will do an excellent job. I will send her a message to report to storage bay one. That is where you keep that tinker toy, right?”

  Jaxon smiled, his light-heartedness now spreading to the rest of the bridge staff.

  Deimos stepped in. “That will be all, you two. McAlister, get to the storage bay and prep the skiff. I am sure your team will be there shortly.”

  Jaxon sauntered out the back of the bridge.

  Deimos turned to Maka. “Chief, you have someone to go with him.”

  Tsala Maka nodded once and stepped to the side to make a call. When he was done he turned back. “Ryde will meet them in the bay, ma’am.”

  #

  Jax McAlister slid into the pilot's seat of the E.C.H.O. Skiff, the cockpit lighting up around him, displays flickering to life with familiar chimes.

  The shuttle bay’s harsh work lights threw long shadows across the familiar compact hull, sleek, angular, built for getting in and out fast. Jax had flown these E.C.H.O. skiffs in a hundred sims; at twenty meters they were no luxury liner, but they could haul a full team, gear, and a hold crammed with volatiles without complaint. Jax ran his hands over the console, the holo-displays flickering to life with a soft chime.

  "Preflight check initiated," the skiff's AI intoned, voice calm and genderless. "Systems nominal. Fuel cells at 98%. Thrusters calibrated for Vega gravity. Life support, green."

  Jax leaned back, flipping switches with the ease of someone who'd done this a hundred times in sims and a few in the real black. First, the nav array: He punched in the orbital coordinates for the third planet's polar ice fields, the holo-map spinning to show the descent trajectory. Low risk, Anjali had said. Gravity light, atmo thin. But Jax knew better than to trust "low risk" in a system no human had touched before.

  Next, propulsion: The micro-fusion drive hummed as he tested the burn sequence: short bursts for maneuver, full thrust for escape if things went south. "Engines purring," he muttered. Shields followed rad-hardened plating cycled through test modes, ready to shrug off Vega's glare.

  He saved the weapons check for last. The skiff wasn't armed like a fighter, but it had basics: A pair of NPS-S mounts for defense, and emergency flares that could double as distractions. Jax keyed the diagnostic. "Weapons are hot. Just in case."

  The bay door clanked, and Tevan Ryde stepped in, his security uniform crisp, NPS-R slung over one shoulder. He carried a NPS-H for each of the team, he handed one to Jax without a word.

  Jax took it, checking the charge. "Chief's orders?"

  Tevan nodded. "Wants all of us armed. Just in case." His voice was steady, but his eyes scanned the skiff like he was already mapping escape routes. "Vega's clean on scans, but Tsala doesn't like unknowns."

  Jax holstered the weapon on his belt. "Smart man. Though if it's ice we're scooping, the biggest threat's probably frostbite."

  Tevan allowed a rare chuckle. "Or your flying."

  Before Jax could retort, the bay door clanked again. Ava Wilson strode in, her engineering jumpsuit patched with fresh grease stains, toolkit slung over one shoulder. She was short, wiry, with a no-nonsense braid and a quick grin that knocked the edge off any bad day.

  "McAlister," she said, nodding. "Heard you needed bodies for the ice run. Davi, sent me, said if anyone can keep this tin can from cracking on landing, it's me."

  Jax grinned. "Welcome aboard, Ava. Grab a seat. We're waiting on the rest."

  The "rest" arrived moments later: Leif Torvald from engineering, a lanky guy with a perpetual squint from staring at schematics, and Emma Carter from medical, her kit packed with scanners and emergency hypos. Leif lugged a heavy sampler rig, grunting as he stowed it in the cargo hold. Emma, calm and efficient, ran a quick diagnostic on the skiff's med-pod, a compact unit tucked in the rear for just-in-case injuries.

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  "Full team," Jax said, strapping in. "Suits up, folks. Vega's atmo is thin, but we're not taking chances."

  They donned the environment suits in practiced motions, sealed helmets, pressurized seals, life-support packs humming to life. The suits were bulky but flexible, designed for low-g work with built-in thrusters for fine maneuvers. Jax felt the familiar weight settle over him, the Heads-Up Display flickering on with vitals and nav overlays.

  "Comm check," he said, voice tinny through the speakers.

  One by one: "Ryde, clear."

  "Ava, good."

  "Leif, online."

  "Emma, ready."

  Jax keyed the bay comm. "Bridge, this is Skiff One. Team aboard, preflight green. Requesting clearance for launch."

  Selene's voice came back steady. "Skiff One, cleared for departure. Open channel the whole way. Bring back the goods and watch your backs."

  Costa couldn't resist chiming in. "And don't scratch my paint, kid. That skiff's not a toy."

  Jax laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it, old man. See you with full tanks."

  The bay doors cycled open, the force field shimmering as the atmosphere vented in a slow hiss. Jax eased the thrusters, the skiff lifted with a gentle vibration. They cleared the Hope's hull, the massive ark receding behind them as Vega's light bathed the cockpit in blue-white.

  "Orbit departure burn in three," Jax said. "Hold tight."

  The skiff arced away, thrusters flaring. Vega's third planet grew in the viewscreen a mottled ball of ice and rock, its polar caps vast white plains cracked by slow geological heaves. No atmosphere to burn through meant a smooth descent, but Jax kept his hands on the controls, eyes on the HUD for any surprises.

  "Entry in two minutes," he called. "Suits sealed?"

  Affirmatives all around.

  The skiff hit the thin atmo like a stone skipping water minimal drag, just a faint whistle through the hull. Jax banked toward the target zone, the ice fields spreading below like a frozen sea.

  "Touchdown in thirty," he said. "Ava, Leif prep the scoops. Emma, med scan on landing. Tevan, eyes out."

  The skiff settled with a soft crunch, thrusters kicking up slow plumes of ice dust that hung in the low gravity like smoke. Jax killed the engines, the cockpit falling silent save for the suit recyclers.

  "Boots down," he reported to the Hope. "Vega Three is ours."

  They cycled the airlock, stepping out into the crunch of eternal frost. Vega's light cast long shadows across the plain, the ice gleaming under Vega’s harsh light. Tevan took point, NPS-R at the ready, scanning for movement. Ava and Leif deployed the scoops' extendable arms that bit into the ice, hauling chunks into the processing hold.

  Emma knelt, her scanner humming. "Volatiles are pure as promised. Water ice 99.8% minimal contaminants. Ammonia pockets deeper down, but accessible."

  Jax nodded, clapping Leif on the back. "Let's load her up. Costa's waiting to complain about something."

  The work was methodical: Scoops digging, processors whirring, canisters filling with compressed volatiles. The VersaForge back on the Hope would love this water for life support, ammonia and methane for chemical synthesis. Enough to fabricate spares, boost hydroponics, even print luxury items if rations allowed.

  Tevan stayed vigilant, circling the skiff. "Clear so far. But this place feels... off."

  Jax glanced up. Vega hung low, its light harsh. "Just the star playing tricks. Keep sharp."

  Hours passed in the slow rhythm of low-g labor. The hold filled, the skiff's weight shifting as canisters locked in. Emma monitored vitals, handing out nutrient packs through suit ports. "Suits holding. No radiation buildup."

  Finally, Ava sealed the last canister. "Full load. That's enough to keep the Forge happy for months."

  Jax keyed the comm. "Hope, this is Skiff One. Harvest complete. Heading home with the goods."

  Selene's voice came back. "Copy that. Dock when ready. Good work down there."

  The skiff lifted off with a low rumble, thrusters kicking up slow plumes of ice dust. Jax banked for one last look at the frozen plain.

  Emma frowned at her scanner. "Jax... I'm picking up a low-frequency seismic trace. It's faint, but regular."

  "Ice settling?" he asked.

  "Maybe. But the pattern...it's too even. Like something is walking."

  Jax zoomed the rear camera. Their landing site looked undisturbed except for a fresh line of deep, evenly spaced indentations leading away across the ice, disappearing into the glare.

  He tightened his grip on the controls and firewalled the thrusters. And headed back to the ship.

  #

  The docking was smooth. The skiff settled into its cradle with a soft clang. The team cycled out, peeling off suits in the decon chamber. Tevan hung back, checking his NPS-H before stowing it.

  "Clean run," he said to Jax. "First of many."

  Jax nodded. "Here's hoping they all go this easy."

  But as they filed out, Emma paused, her scanner beeping softly. "Wait... picked up something on the surface scan. Faint metallic signature under the ice. Could be nothing."

  Jax raised an eyebrow. "Or something. Flag it for Anjali."

  The team dispersed, the volatiles transferred to the Forge. For the first time since launch, the Hope felt a little heavier and a little more ready for whatever lay ahead.

  Tevan Ryde turned to the group before they scattered too far. "Hold up," he said, voice firm but not unkind. "Weapons check. The chief wants all NPS-Hs back in the armory, no exceptions. Hand 'em over."

  Jax unslung his borrowed NPS-H first, passing it to Tevan with a grin. "Here you go, babysitter. Didn't even fire a shot. Happy?"

  Tevan took it, checking the charge with a practiced eye. "Thrilled. Means I don't have to write up an incident report." He looked at the others. "Ava? Leif? Emma?"

  Ava Wilson handed hers over, wiping a streak of ice dust from her glove. "All yours. Though if we'd run into trouble down there, this would've been handy."

  Leif Torvald followed suit, his NPS-H looking oversized in his lanky arms. "Yeah, but Vega's third rock was about as exciting as watching paint dry. No regrets."

  Emma Carter was last, her medical kit slung over one shoulder. "Here. Clean and unused. Thanks for the loan, it felt good to be prepared."

  Tevan collected them all, stowing them all into a case he had brought with him. "Appreciate the cooperation. Bay's clear head out."

  The engineers Ava and Leif nodded and peeled off toward the lift, chatting about how the volatiles would ease the next engine tune-up. Emma gave a quick wave and headed for medbay, scanner still in hand.

  Jax lingered a moment, leaning against the skiff's hull. "You know, Tevan, for a security guy, you're not half bad company. That low-g hop down there smooth as silk. Admit it, you enjoyed the view."

  Tevan chuckled, adjusting the rifles' straps. "The view was fine. Work was boring. Boring's good in our line means no one gets shot."

  Jax pushed off the hull, falling in step as they walked toward the bay exit. "Boring? Come on. Skipping across that ice like a stone on a pond? It felt like flying without the ship. You security types miss out, always watching backs instead of leading the charge."

  Tevan shot him a sidelong glance. "Watching backs kept us alive on Ceres. You flyboys forget that. But yeah... the glide down was something. Smoother than I expected from you."

  Jax barked a laugh. "Ouch. High praise from the stoic type. Tell you what next run, you take the controls. See if you can beat my landing."

  Tevan shook his head, amusement in his eyes. "I'll stick to the NPS-H. Flying's your circus. See you at the next drill, McAlister."

  They parted at the corridor junction Jax toward the bridge, Tevan to the armory. Jax watched him go for a second, then rolled his shoulders and headed up. The lift ride was quick, the ship's hum a comforting backdrop. Vega's light filtered through the viewports, casting blue-white patterns on the walls.

  The bridge doors swished open, and Jax stepped in, the familiar thrum of consoles greeting him. Selene turned from the main screen, where Vega's system spun in holo-form. Costa was there too, glowering at a diagnostic panel, while Nira monitored the helm.

  "McAlister," Selene said, voice even. "Report."

  Jax crossed to his station, dropping into the chair with a satisfied sigh. "Mission complete, Captain. Skiff's tucked in, volatiles offloaded to the Forge. Water ice pure, ammonia and methane stocks full Ava says we could run flat out for months without dipping reserves."

  Selene nodded. "Complications?"

  "None worth mentioning," Jax replied. "Planet's a frozen wasteland low-g made the scoop a breeze. Emma flagged a faint metallic ping under the ice, but it's probably ore or debris. Send it to Anjali for a look."

  Anjali looked up from her console. "Already on it. If it's harvestable, it'll show."

  Costa snorted, not looking up. "About time you got back, kid. Those volatiles better not be slush, or the Forge'll choke on 'em."

  Jax grinned. "Clean as your conscience, old man. Try smiling, it's good for the heart."

  Costa muttered something about "flyboys and their egos," but Selene raised a hand. "Enough. Well done, Lieutenant. Stand down for the cycle. We'll jump to Nova Tertius at 0800, get some rest."

  Jax hesitated. "Captain... permission to oversee the Forge transfer? Just to make sure Costa doesn't grumble the volatiles into submission."

  Selene's eyes twinkled. "Granted. But keep it civil."

  "Aye, ma'am." Jax saluted and headed out, the bridge settling back into its rhythm.

  Down in engineering, the volatiles were already feeding into the VersaForge, a hulking machine that dominated the bay, its nano-assemblers whirring as they broke down the raw materials. Costa stood over it like a sentinel, barking orders at Leif Torvald and Ava Wilson as they locked the canisters in place.

  "Easy with that seal, Torvald! You want to vent the lot?"

  Leif grinned, unfazed. "Relax, Chief. It's locked tight."

  Jax sauntered in, hands in pockets. "Miss me already?"

  Costa shot him a glare. "You? Not likely. But your report says these volatiles are pure, better be right, or the Forge'll choke."

  Jax leaned against a bulkhead. "Purer than your optimism. Watch Ava, run a sample."

  Ava keyed the console, and the Forge hummed to life. A test batch processed: Water ice purified into crystal-clear liquid, ammonia buffered for chemical synthesis, methane compressed for energy cells. The output tray produced a small tool, a wrench, gleaming fresh.

  "See?" Jax said, picking it up. "VersaForge magic. Turns volatiles into anything food, parts, even that coffee you pretend to hate."

  Costa snatched the wrench, inspecting it. "Adequate. But don't get cocky, lad. One good run doesn't mean the next won't bite us."

  Jax chuckled. "Always the ray of sunshine. But admit it this haul buys us breathing room for Nova Tertius."

  Costa grumbled but nodded. "Aye. Now get out of my bay before I put you to work."

  Jax left with a wave, the successful run leaving him in a good mood. The Hope felt steadier, more prepared. For the first time since launch, the void didn't feel quite so hostile.

  But as he headed for his quarters, a faint unease lingered. Vega had given them what they needed.

  Easy runs never stayed easy for long.

  Selene waited until the bridge cleared for shift change before allowing herself a moment alone. The viewscreen showed Vega's system spinning slowly, a hot Jupiter, debris belt, rocky worlds. The third planet's ice fields had yielded more than expected; the Forge was already churning out spares.

  She keyed her console for a private log.

  "Captain's log, stardate 2200.147. Vega arrival nominal. Volatiles harvest complete reserves topped. Crew morale high after a clean run. Proceeding to Nova Tertius at 0800."

  She paused, then added, "No incidents. For once."

  The door chimed. Amaya entered, her expression unreadable.

  "Captain. About those visions during the jump..."

  Selene waved her to a seat. "Increasing?"

  Amaya nodded. "For me, yes. And a few others have reported similar. Nothing debilitating, but... it's like they're building to something."

  Selene leaned back. "Keep monitoring. If it's tied to the nanocytes, we need to know before Nova Tertius."

  Amaya hesitated. "And if it's not just us? If it's the ship or Vega?"

  "Then we adapt," Selene said firmly. "That's what we do."

  Amaya left, and Selene stared at the screen. The volatiles were a win. But in space, good luck never lasted.

  0800 came with the usual drilled efficiency.

  The bridge crew strapped in, the Flux Drive humming to life.

  "Course laid in for Nova Tertius," Nira said.

  Selene gave the order. "Engage."

  The stars stretched, and the Hope leaped forward once more. Vega faded behind them.

  Just as the jump initiated, a faint automated ping arrived on the long-range comm array priority beacon from Stellar Pathfinder, the old probe still scanning the void outside the heliopause. Nira frowned at her console.

  "Captain, a fragmented burst packet just decoded. Pathfinder reports… ‘anomalous energy surge detected, Nova Tertius system, magnitude ’" She paused. "That’s it. Message cuts off mid-transmission."

  Selene leaned forward. "Corrupted packet or deliberate truncation?"

  "Unknown. Signal strength was marginal Pathfinder’s decades out. We won’t get clarification until we drop closer."

  Selene nodded once. "Log it. Priority decode when we exit Flux. Helm, maintain course."

  The stars snapped back to points.

  Nova Tertius lay ahead, quiet for now.

  But the probe had seen something.