Days bled into nights and back again, time rendered nebulous in the vacuum of space. Gan’s mind was a battlefield, his excitement at the prospect of the riches the spaceship graveyard held in store at war with his anxiety over the illicit nature of his expedition. Each beep of the communication console, each flash of the incoming signal indicator compounded his trepidation.
With the Valtorian moving towards its forbidden destination, Gan had taken the precaution of deactivating the spacecraft’s internal transponder. In the vast, silent expanse of space, it was a small step, a flicker of defiance against the might of the Council’s watchful eyes. His thumb hovered over the control panel before making the decision, a small smirk playing on his lips at his own audacity. But that small step felt like a giant leap towards preserving his secret, a necessary act of subterfuge in his cloak-and-dagger mission.
“No signal in, no signal out,” Gan muttered to himself, an affirmation to steel his resolve, even though the words hung heavy in the sterile air of the Valtorian’s control room. His words were a vow, a silent promise he made to himself—he would keep the Council, Elo, and the rest of the universe at bay. His journey—and the potential spoils that awaited him—would remain his secret.
However, the universe, it seemed, had a different script to follow.
The sharp, insistent ring of the communication console abruptly pierced the quiet hum of the Valtorian. Gan’s heart lurched, the abrupt noise a stark contrast against the hushed backdrop of his solitary vessel. The digital display flickered with an incoming transmission: Elo.
His fingers froze above the console, the familiar ping of Elo’s identifier serving as a stark reminder of the world Gan had left behind. A sharp pang of guilt gnawed at him. Elo had been more than just his Paktu, more than just a guide. Over time, the seasoned Scavenger had come to be a mentor, his unwavering belief in Gan a buoy in the churning sea of his worries.
Yet Gan could not afford the luxury of sentimentality. He steeled himself, letting the incoming transmission go unanswered. Each unattended ping gnawed at his conscience, but the promise of the treasures in the spaceship graveyard held firm his resolve.
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As the days trickled by, the solitude within the Valtorian grew more pronounced. Each light-year the spacecraft put between itself and Elluria was another brick in the wall of isolation Gan had erected around himself. More calls came, a steady stream of digital lifelines tossed out by Elo. And one by one, Gan let them slip through his fingers.
In his quieter moments, as he stared out into the unending darkness, Gan couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing more than he hoped to gain. But the prospect of returning to Elluria triumphant, his ship laden with valuable materials, his reputation as a successful Scavenger secured, offered him a lifeline of hope in the bleak ocean of his doubts.
Training with Pelve became a regular part of his routine. The AI, with its wealth of knowledge and adaptive learning capabilities, made for an excellent tutor. Gan delved into intricate spaceship mechanics, learning about advanced systems and parts of the Valtorian that were unfamiliar to him. Pelve’s holographic interface transformed the dull cockpit into a virtual classroom, demonstrating mechanical processes with crisp 3D animations. Gan would then handle the ship’s components, feeling the cold metal against his skin as he practiced repairs and upgrades.
Pelve also taught him about alien linguistics, providing him with crucial communication skills that could be valuable during scavenging or negotiation scenarios. The AI’s mimicry of alien speech was accurate, and although Gan initially struggled with the strange phonetics and tonal nuances, he grew more adept with each passing day.
When not studying under Pelve’s guidance, Gan busied himself with maintaining the Valtorian. He moved through the ship with practiced ease, running diagnostic checks on the ship’s systems and inspecting its labyrinthine machinery. He’d often find himself covered in lubricants or nursing a minor burn from a sizzling circuit, but the satisfaction of keeping the Valtorian in peak condition outweighed the occasional discomforts.
But a healthy mind requires a healthy body. Space travel, devoid of gravity’s persistent tug, could cause muscular atrophy and bone density loss if ignored. Thus, Gan dedicated a portion of his day to a rigorous physical regimen. He exercised using resistance bands, their elastic tension creating a formidable workout despite the weightlessness. Push-ups and sit-ups, aided by magnetized boots, were interspersed with bouts of zero-G Kraka, the strange poses leaving him both rejuvenated and pleasantly sore.
As the spaceship graveyard loomed ever closer—a gargantuan spectral entity in the celestial darkness—Gan pressed on, his unattended communications fading into echoes, swallowed whole by the yawning void of the universe. The die had been cast. There was no turning back. The only way forward was through the graveyard and whatever trials and treasures it held in store.