The initial brush of Gan’s fingertips against the cool metal hull of the Valtorian had stirred within him not joy but a sobering acknowledgement of his new reality. Rather than feeling like a victor claiming his prize, Gan had been akin to a fledgling bird nudged from the comfort of its nest into a sky brimming with predators. The sensation was less a spark of delight and more a quickening of his pulse, a primal alert to the dangers and challenges that awaited.

Now, alone with his thoughts within the sparse cockpit, Gan could feel the last vestiges of that anticipation fading away. The intricate weave of excitement and trepidation he’d previously entertained was unraveling; his palms slick against the Valtorian’s controls were a testament to his rising anxiety. The expanse of cosmos stretched before him like a mocking mirror, reflecting not the dreams of his youth, but the cold, hard truth of his current predicament.

He remembered his first mission briefing, which had been given by none other than the Engaru himself. He and his fellow graduates, their beacons still aglow, had congregated in a smaller room, buzzing with anticipation. ¶The Engaru, in a stern and inspiring voice, unveiled their inaugural mission. "To the Sigma-9 sector," he detailed, pointing to the star maps. "Rich in resources, yet not without challenges.”

Gan listened intently, leaning in. One of his peers nervously raised his hand.

“Yes?” the Engaru called upon him. It was clear from the way he spoke that the Engaru had neither expected nor wanted questions.

“What is the worst thing that we could do out there?” he asked.

“Disappoint me,” the Engaru replied in a chilly voice. There were no audible gasps, but the atmosphere of the room had changed. The questioner looked down and everyone grew silent. Even the veteran scavengers seemed cowed.

Was it Gan’s imagination or had the Engaru been staring at him when he said it? Early on, Gan had noticed that Elo seemed nervous around the Engaru and had treated him with more than just deference. It had been fear. Now Gan was beginning to understand why.

With that, the Engaru departed, leaving the floor to a pair of seasoned scavengers who, after only a moment’s hesitation, recovered from their shock and assumed the responsibility of training the group. These veterans, bearing the marks of many years in space, stepped forward. Their presence commanded attention, their eyes holding stories of distant worlds and hidden treasures.

The first scavenger, a wiry female with a scar tracing her jawline, began with a tale of navigating the Asteroid Fields of Zarnak. "We were in a dense cluster, sensors barely functioning," she recounted. "But it’s in those treacherous fields where we found rare Xylium crystals. You learn to trust your instincts more than your instruments. Remember, the most valuable resources often lie in the most dangerous places."

Her companion, a burly male with a cybernetic arm, shared his experience with a space anomaly. "The Gorgon Vortex, as they call it, is a swirling mass of energy that can disrupt your ship's systems." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a hush. "I was caught in it once. Had to recalibrate the engine's polarity on the fly. It taught me one thing—always be prepared to improvise. Out there, quick thinking can save your ship, and your life."

The female nodded, her eyes alight with the memories. "And let’s not forget the importance of understanding alien cultures. On Sylara Prime, we nearly sparked an intergalactic incident due to a misinterpreted gesture. Learn the customs, respect their ways. Diplomacy can open more doors than force."

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

The male chuckled, adding, "And sometimes, it's the small, overlooked planets that hold the biggest surprises. Like Aridia-5, a barren world where we discovered an ancient artifact worth a fortune. Don't just look for obvious wealth; sometimes, history is the real treasure."

Their stories painted a picture of a life filled with adventure, danger, and discovery. They spoke of the harsh realities of space, the thrill of uncovering hidden gems, and the satisfaction of overcoming seemingly insurmountable challenges.

As the veteran scavengers concluded, they left the new graduates with a final piece of advice. "Keep your wits sharp and your spirit sharper. In space, every challenge is an opportunity, and every discovery, a story waiting to be told."

As the room emptied, Gan remained, his beacon in hand. He contemplated the light, now a symbol of his shared journey with his peers. Despite a lack of friends amongst them, he felt a deep connection with the collective destiny they all embraced.

Gan’s memory of that day lasted just a few minutes before he returned to the moment at hand.

His spacecraft hummed beneath him, a subtle reminder of its reliable service and humble capabilities. It was far from deficient, but its modest functionalities were eclipsed by the advanced tech and raw power boasted by the Excelsior and Excalibur-class vessels. The disparity gnawed at him, transforming his quest for material into one of an underdog. The Valtorian, his allocated spaceship, had been the final straw. The decrepit vessel stood in stark contrast to the gleaming, technologically advanced crafts that his classmates had received. The Valtorian was an antiquated relic, a symbolic representation of the stark difference between Gan and his more privileged peers.

The Ellurians were survivors. Their species had eked a living from the cosmic wilderness by hunting through the metallic skeletons of space wrecks, picking clean the carnage of stellar combat, and skimming mineral riches from alien worlds. This scavenging tradition had shaped their resilience and honed their resourcefulness. As an Ellurian youth, Gan had yearned for this rite of passage, his chest swelling with anticipation at the prospect of proving his worth. Yet now, that same prospect felt less like a worthy trial and more like a herculean task.

The thought festered within him, a slow-burning ember of resentment. He had worked as hard as any of his peers. His fingers had borne the callouses of long hours clutching engineering schematics, his mind had been tempered in the white-hot crucible of relentless simulations. He had given it his all and earned his right to stand with his classmates. So why was he saddled with a disadvantage, pushed off the starting line with an extra weight on his shoulders?

Driven by this burning question, Gan felt an urge to seek answers. His Paktu, Elo, was more than just a teacher and father figure. Elo was his designated guide through these uncertain waters. Elo, with his years of experience as a Scavenger and the wisdom of an Ellurian well-versed in the rigors of their world, seemed to be his only lifeline. However, Gan knew he needed more than the usual dose of wisdom Elo offered; he needed action.

The cosmos, in all its twinkling, infinite grandeur, felt soothingly quiet in its absence of humanoid life, but the Scavenger knew better than to trust appearances.

Leaning forward, Gan activated the multi-spectral scanners, a grid of green lines slicing through the darkness as they probed the surrounding space. The scanners hummed, sending out invisible waves that rippled out into the ether, reaching for hints of life, signs of technology, the footprint of civilization. His eyes flickered to the readout, the data cascading in real time, each glyph a piece of the cosmic puzzle.

Meticulously, Gan began analyzing the data. He scanned for anomalies, for signs of communication trails, signs of energy usage, even the faint whisper of a propulsion wake, anything that could suggest he wasn’t as alone as he appeared to be.

While the scanners worked, Gan turned to his navigational computer, the holographic projection flickering into existence before him. He studied the interstellar map, cross-referencing his current location with known space routes, trading lanes, even noted pirate corridors. The nondescript quadrant where he’d stationed the Valtorian was a no-man's-land, far removed from civilization’s usual hustle and bustle, yet he knew he couldn’t be too cautious.

Once he’d confirmed that his immediate vicinity was devoid of any commercial or military space routes, he turned his attention to the sensory data once again. A wave of relief washed over him as the scanners reported a null result. No sign of lifeforms, no trace of any active or dormant technology, no hint of energy fields. Just the calm, serene blanket of space and the stars twinkling in their far-off distant homes.

With the satisfaction that he was, in fact, as isolated and safe as he could reasonably be in the vast expanse of the cosmos, Gan allowed himself to ease into his seat. His heart pounded with a mix of anxiety and anticipation as he reached for the communicator controls. It was time to contact Elo. After days of silence, cut off from any form of contact, this was his moment to reconnect, to reestablish his link with the world beyond his solitary ship.

Satisfied with his precautionary measures, Gan made his move. His fingers hovered over the touch-sensitive panel, tapping into the subspace frequencies. As he prepared to pierce the veil of his self-imposed silence, his gaze swept over the star-studded void before him, the tranquil serenity of the universe a comforting presence. It was time to break the silence, to bridge the gap that distance had created.

It was time to call Elo.