Stanton sat behind his desk, the room dim, with only the cold glow of the screens illuminating his sharp features. Reports and newsfeeds flashed across the screens, chronicling a rise in smuggling, thefts, and unexplained raids across Ironport. Each hit was more brazen than the last, and the crew behind them had grown too bold to ignore.
He leaned forward, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the polished surface of the desk as his eyes scanned the headlines: “Massive Heist at the Navy Yards,” “Military Depot Hit,” “Authorities Scramble to Catch Organized Crime Ring.”
The room’s already dim light seemed to falter. A glance at the window revealed a faint, creeping shadow encroaching on the horizon, the edges of the sun beginning to blur. Stanton’s eyes flicked to it for a moment, noting the unusual dimness but quickly returning to his work. The glow from his screens became sharper against the encroaching gloom, bathing his face in a pale, otherworldly light.
Stanton’s brow furrowed as he brought up a map of Ironport on the largest screen. Red dots marked recent incidents—the Navy Yards, the depot, the industrial zone. Each location struck with precision. And each time, the crew vanished without a trace.
“They’re not just hitting random targets,” he murmured to himself. “There’s a pattern.”
He zoomed out on the map, narrowing the scope to the northern region of Ironport. He traced a finger across the red dots, connecting them one by one. It was becoming clearer. A pattern in their movements. Their strikes weren’t haphazard—they were building toward something. Something big.
The growing shadow from the eclipse outside deepened, dimming the room further. The window’s faint natural light faded to almost nothing, leaving Stanton’s face starkly lit by the cold, glowing screens. He paused, his eyes narrowing at the faint dimness, but didn’t break his focus.
A notification blinked on another screen, pulling Stanton’s attention. It was an internal report—his own tracking of officer deployment schedules. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the data. The increased criminal activity correlated with the absence of Fleet Captain Aria Benowitz. Each major heist had occurred during her leave periods, a pattern too precise to ignore.
Stanton's expression darkened as the pieces fell into place. "So, it has been you all along," he muttered, the confirmation fueling his determination.
Stanton’s eyes remained fixed on the map, his mind working through the puzzle. It wasn’t enough to simply suspect Aria—he needed her exact location. His fingers danced across the console, pulling up activity logs and supply chain reports. One particular document caught his attention: an unusual surge in industrial activity by the northern outskirts, all under the radar. The movements were too discreet for standard operations, all routed toward an abandoned mining facility.
He leaned back, eyes narrowing. “That mine,” he whispered.
At that moment, the door to his office slid open, and Officer Kerr stepped inside, his posture rigid. The faint dimness from outside seeped into the room, softening the lines of Kerr’s silhouette. “Sir, the men are ready to move. All teams await your command.”
Stanton didn’t look up, his eyes still fixed on the mine’s location on the screen. “They think they’re safe,” he said, his voice cold, calculating. “They think they can hide.”
He finally looked up at Kerr, his face sharp and expression dangerous in the unnatural twilight. “Prepare the assault teams. We move at dawn. It’s time to end this.”
Kerr nodded sharply, turning to leave the office. The door hissed shut behind him, leaving Stanton alone with his thoughts. The trap was set. He would catch them. And this time, there would be no escape.
Kai moved slowly through the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps barely audible against the cold metal floor of the half-finished ship. The flickering lights overhead cast long, jagged shadows along the walls, a visual reminder of the ship’s unfinished state—much like everything in their lives right now. He ran a hand along one of the exposed support beams, feeling the rawness of it beneath his palm.
He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling—the moment that soldier fell in the factory. His mind replayed it in fragments: the sharp impact, the sound of cracking bone, and then... nothing. Just silence. He’d taken a life, and now that silence followed him everywhere.
He heard footsteps behind him. Aria’s, unmistakable in their steady rhythm. He didn’t turn to face her, his eyes still fixed on the unfinished corridor ahead.
“You’ve been quiet since the last run,” Aria said, her voice calm, but with a note of concern. She stopped a few feet away from him, giving him space. “You want to talk about it?”
Kai didn’t respond immediately. He kept his eyes forward, searching for words. “I keep seeing his face,” he finally admitted, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Stanton’s man. The one we... the one I killed.”
Aria nodded, stepping closer but still maintaining enough distance to give him room to breathe. “It was self-defense, Kai. We didn’t have a choice.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself,” Kai said, turning slightly to face her. His eyes were clouded, conflicted. “But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”
Aria leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “No, it doesn’t.” She met his gaze, her expression softening. “The first time... it stays with you. That weight. But if you’re asking me whether we’re still on the right path, the answer is yes. This fight isn’t fair, and it’s not clean. We didn’t choose this, but it’s where we are.”
Kai exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve always been good at flying, at outmaneuvering trouble. But this... this feels different. It feels... final.”
“It does,” Aria said softly. “Because it is. Every time we go out there, the stakes get higher. We’re not just fighting for ourselves anymore, Kai. We’re fighting for something bigger—we have a crew now, people to take car of. And sometimes... that means doing things we wish we didn’t have to.”
Kai clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to reconcile the man he was with the man he was becoming. “I didn’t sign up to kill people. I’m a pilot, not a soldier.”
Aria walked closer, her voice firm but understanding. “You didn’t sign up for any of this. None of us did. But we don’t get to choose the fight when it comes to us. You’re not alone in this, Kai. We’re all carrying that weight, and we carry it together.”
He stared at her for a moment, processing her words. His shoulders sagged slightly, the tension easing a little, though the weight wasn’t gone. It would never fully go away.
“Do you ever doubt it?” Kai asked after a long pause. “What we’re doing?”
Aria’s eyes darkened, her face unreadable for a moment. “All the time. I question every choice I make. But every time I wonder if we’re going too far, I remember why we started. This isn’t just about us. It’s about survival. It’s about making sure the people we care about don’t end up dying under the governments boot.”
Kai nodded, but his brow furrowed. “I guess I just... I don’t want to lose myself in all of this.”
Aria placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip steady. “We won’t let that happen. We can still make choices—about how we fight, who we fight for. That’s what keeps us from becoming like them.”
The silence between them was filled with unspoken understanding. Kai’s doubts hadn’t vanished, but they felt... manageable. He wasn’t fighting them alone anymore.
“Thanks,” he muttered, giving her a small, grateful smile.
“Always,” Aria said, offering a brief smile in return. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
Kai turned back to the corridor, feeling the weight of Aria’s words settle in his chest. For the first time in a while, the silence in his mind felt bearable.
The ship had come together in ways neither Aria nor Kai could have ever imagined when they first began. Now it was massive, capable of holding hundreds of individuals at full capacity, with facilities that made it more like a mobile city than just a starship. Sleek, angular, and undeniably powerful, its design carried the sharp edges of a military vessel, but there was a softness, a charm that set it apart from warships.
It was a marvel of engineering and science, on par with—and perhaps even surpassing—the most advanced ships in the Navy. Samir's vision had created something special. The ship’s hull was layered in advanced materials that shimmered faintly in the dim lights of the mine, but it wasn’t just beautiful. It was functional, efficient, with room for everything a long voyage would need. From crew quarters and medical bays to expansive storage holds. Even a hangar bay. The ship was self-sustaining. At full capacity, it could hold entire populations, turning it into a floating city, ready to roam the stars.
Despite its size and elegance, however, the ship was far from battle-ready. There were no weapons yet—Samir had made sure to leave the infrastructure for future modifications, but for now, it was defenseless. And perhaps most crucially, the FTL system wasn’t installed. The empty space for the QPE loomed large in Aria’s mind, a reminder that no matter how ready the ship seemed, it still couldn’t jump to the next system. It was beautiful, but it was not yet an escape. Not fully.
Aria stood at the bridge, listening intently as Samir’s voice guided them through the final stages of construction. The holographic projections glowed softly around her, casting ethereal light across the sleek panels of the bridge. Beyond the windows, the sky above the mine began to darken—not from the approach of night, but from the slow encroachment of shadow. The sun’s light dimmed, casting long, strange shadows over the rugged terrain outside.
“You’re almost there,” Samir said, his voice steady. “Once you connect the propulsion systems to the auxiliary generators, it’ll stabilize the energy flow for the main reactors. I’ve already sent you the schematics for the emergency power backups.”
Aria glanced at Kai, who was bent over one of the panels, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Got it,” she said, focusing on the diagrams floating in front of her. “We’re following the steps. Once the connections are complete, the ship should be flight-ready. Are you sure it’ll hold?”
There was a brief silence, then Samir chuckled faintly, though it was a hollow sound. “I’ve done the math, Captain. I wouldn’t send you up there if I wasn’t sure.” His voice trailed off, an undertone of something else—something off.
Aria noticed it immediately, her instincts flaring. “Samir? What is it?”
A pause followed, and Samir’s tone darkened. “I think… I think I’m being watched. They’re starting to close in on me, Captain.”
The shadow outside deepened, swallowing the jagged edges of the mine and dimming the faint light that illuminated the ship’s exterior. Aria’s gaze flicked to the viewport, catching a glimpse of the crescent sun now framed in the sky. The scene felt surreal, almost like an omen, but she shoved the thought aside, focusing instead on Samir’s words.
Aria exchanged a look with Kai. “What do you mean, Samir?” she pressed, her voice tight with concern. “How close are they?”
Samir’s voice dropped lower. “They’ve been cracking down harder than I anticipated. My transmissions, the tech I’ve been sending you… They’ve started to notice. I don’t think I can keep this up much longer.”
Kai straightened, the tension on the bridge palpable. The dim red glow of emergency lights from an inactive section of the bridge caught the side of his face, the faint eclipse light filtering in through the viewport. “Patel, are you in immediate danger?”
“I don’t know,” Samir admitted, his voice shaking just slightly. “I’ve had to divert my operations. I thought I could stay ahead of them, but…” His words trailed off, replaced by a brief rustling sound over the comms. He let out a sharp breath. “They’re getting too close. If they track me down, it’ll be over. I won’t be able to help you.”
Aria’s heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to remain calm. “Samir, you’ve gotten us this far. Just focus on staying safe. We can handle the rest.”
Another brief silence, then a sigh. “I wish it were that simple. You don’t understand—if they catch me, it’s not just me they’re after. They’ll be coming for you next. All the transmissions we’ve exchanged… They’ll track everything. You need to finish the ship as fast as possible.”
The shadow outside the bridge windows thickened further, the mine growing dimmer under the partial eclipse. It cast the ship in stark, high-contrast light, its sharp angles made more pronounced. Aria felt the weight of the moment pressing down on her.
"We’re doing everything we can, Samir. But without the QPE, we’re stuck. We can’t escape the system without FTL."
“I know,” Samir’s voice cracked slightly. “I’m working on a way to get you those parts. But… I might be out of time.”
A low thud echoed over the transmission, followed by muffled footsteps. Samir’s breathing grew heavier. “Wait,” he whispered. “Someone’s here.”
Aria’s pulse quickened. “Samir? Samir, what’s going on?”
The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, and Samir’s voice became strained. “They’ve come for me. Captain… If I don’t make it—”
“No!” Aria’s voice was sharp, desperate. “We’ll get you out of there. Just tell us where you are—”
“It’s too late,” Samir interrupted, his voice a mix of fear and resignation. “Run. You have to—”
“Dr. Patel?” A new voice interrupted from the background, calm yet authoritative.
Samir’s breath hitched. “I’m coming,” he said, his tone barely controlled.
The transmission cut off with a soft click, leaving only static.
Bakari and the rest of the crew worked feverishly on the ship’s final systems, following Samir’s last-minute instructions to get the vessel spaceworthy. The clang of metal and the hum of machinery echoed into the open air of the mine-turned-shipyard. The massive ship loomed above them, its angular structure reflecting the waning light filtering through the dusty air.
But something was changing. The light in the mine began to dim, unnaturally slow but unmistakable. Shadows stretched longer, deeper, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Above, the sun was being consumed, a crescent of light slowly vanishing into shadow.
Bakari wiped the sweat from his brow, squinting up at the strange twilight falling over the mine. The ship’s exterior gleamed faintly in the shifting light, its sharp lines and unfinished edges appearing almost otherworldly. “We’ve almost got it!” he shouted, his voice barely carrying over the noise of the ship’s systems coming to life.
Outside, Aria paced anxiously, her mind racing with thoughts of Samir. He had been compromised, and the realization gnawed at her. Kai stood nearby, his arms crossed tightly as he stared out at the barren landscape beyond the mine. The deepening gloom seemed to seep into the edges of his thoughts, a tightening in his chest that mirrored the growing urgency of their situation.
“There has to be a way to get him out,” Aria muttered, breaking the silence. “We can’t just leave him behind.”
Kai shook his head, his voice low. “He’s too deep in the core, and we’re out of time. Even if we could mount a rescue—”
“Captain!” Zaya’s panicked voice cut through the air as she skidded into the yard, breathless. Two of her smugglers followed behind, wide-eyed and frantic.
“They’re coming,” Zaya gasped, her voice laced with fear. “The Navy. Stanton. They’re on their way here right now. We have to move!”
Aria’s blood ran cold as she locked eyes with Kai. The realization hit them both at the same time: their cover was blown. After all the months of preparation, they had been found out.
“No,” Aria whispered, the dread settling in her gut. “How much time do we have?”
“Minutes, if that,” Zaya panted, her hands trembling. “We barely got out of the city before they locked everything down. We need to launch now, or we’re done for.”
Before Aria could respond, the sound of approaching vehicles reverberated through the mine. It was faint at first, but unmistakable. The rumble of Stanton’s forces drew closer with every second, the ground trembling beneath their relentless march.
Kai’s heart pounded in his chest as he moved closer to Aria, his voice low but urgent. “We need to get inside the ship, now.”
Aria’s mind raced. “We can’t leave yet—the ship’s not ready to fly. Bakari and the others are still working on the final systems.”
Another tremor shook the mine, and Zaya’s eyes widened. “We don’t have a choice. If we don’t get this thing in the air, we’re done. They’ll kill us all.”
Before they could act, a voice boomed across the shipyard, cutting through the chaos like a knife.
“Aria Benowitz!” Stanton’s voice echoed through the mine, filled with authority and venom. He was here. His forces were closing in.
Above, the eclipse deepened. The sun was now a thin sliver, its feeble light barely illuminating the mine. The growing darkness made the Navy’s advancing vehicles stand out even more starkly, their headlights piercing through the gloom like predatory eyes.
“Kai, Zaya—get everyone inside!” Aria barked, her heart hammering in her chest. She could see the flicker of Navy lights at the entrance of the mine. They were almost out of time.
Bakari’s voice crackled through her comms. “We’re getting close, but the propulsion systems aren’t fully synced yet! If we launch now—”
“If we don’t launch now, we won’t get the chance,” Aria cut in, already moving toward the ship’s entry ramp. “Keep working, Bakari. Get it as stable as you can. We’re leaving.”
The rumble of Stanton’s forces grew louder, the unmistakable hum of military vehicles closing in. Zaya rushed past Aria, guiding the remaining crewmembers into the ship’s belly, their faces pale with fear but filled with a desperate resolve. This was it—the moment they had been working toward for months.
The mine was nearly plunged into total darkness now, the sun fully eclipsed. Only the headlights of Stanton’s vehicles, the faint glint of metal in the dim light, and the growing glow of the ship’s engines cut through the shadow. It was as if the world itself had turned against them.
Aria hurried to the bridge, her heart racing as she slapped the comms panel. “Kai, you ready to take off? Bakari, I need those engines operational now!”
Kai’s hands hovered over the controls, his face set in concentration as the systems flickered to life. “It’s going to be rough, Aria, but I’m ready,” he said, his voice steady despite the tension.
Bakari’s strained voice came back over the line. “I’m working as fast as I can, Captain. We might not be stable enough for orbit.”
Aria gritted her teeth, glancing at the displays flickering around her. “Just get us off the ground. We’ll figure out orbit later.”
Outside, Stanton’s forces had arrived, their vehicles skidding to a halt at the edge of the shipyard. Armed soldiers poured out, their weapons drawn, their sights set on the massive ship standing before them.
The eclipse reached its zenith. The mine was bathed in an eerie, almost unnatural darkness, punctuated only by the glow of Stanton’s lights, and the searing heat of the ship’s engines firing up.
Stanton himself stepped forward, his cold eyes narrowing as he spotted Aria through the rapidly closing entry ramp. “Benowitz!” he shouted, his voice carrying even over the distance. “There’s no escaping this time!”
The roar of the engines drowned him out as the ship began to rise, the blinding fire of the thrusters painting the mine’s shadowy walls in fiery hues. The light seemed to push back the darkness, fighting against the eclipse itself as the ship awoke.
Aria’s pulse quickened as she locked eyes with him, knowing this was the moment of truth. She slammed her hand down on the ship’s internal comms. “Kai, Zaya, everyone—secure yourselves! We’re leaving. Now.”
Bakari’s voice was frantic over the comms. “Engines are firing up, but it’s going to be rough! Hold on to something!”
Kai’s hands tightened on the controls. He glanced at Aria as she entered the command bridge. “Here we go.”
The ground beneath the ship trembled as the massive VTOL engines roared to life, dust and debris swirling around the mine as the ship slowly began to rise. The mine was bathed in shadow, the sun completely obscured. What little light remained came from the flickering beams of vehicle headlights, and the brilliant glow of the ship’s engines as they began to burn hotter and brighter.
The crew clung to their seats, gripping anything they could as the ship lurched upward, its massive bulk straining against the pull of gravity. Alarms blared, and the control panels flickered with warnings, but Kai kept his focus steady, guiding the ship through the tension and chaos.
The ship creaked and groaned under the strain, but it was moving. They were moving.
As the ship ascended, the sound of gunfire erupted from below. Stanton’s forces opened fire, their bullets ricocheting off the hull. The bursts of light from the weapons illuminated the mine in sporadic, eerie flashes, highlighting Stanton’s silhouette as he stood resolute amidst the chaos.
“Get us out of here, Kai!” Aria shouted, her voice drowned out by the roar of the engines.
Kai’s hands flew over the controls, adjusting the power to the engines as the ship gained height. “I’m on it!”
The roar of the VTOL engines reached a fever pitch, drowning out everything else. Their glow was blinding now, cutting through the darkness like a beacon, pushing against the shadow of the eclipse. The mine, once shrouded in black, was now a chaotic canvas of smoke, fire, and blinding light as the ship rose higher.
As the ship gained altitude, the whine of the VTOL engines reached a crescendo. The ground fell away beneath them, the mine shrinking rapidly into a dark pit as the clouds loomed closer. Then, with a jolt that shook the entire ship, Kai engaged the rocket engines.
A deep, thunderous rumble shook the ship to its core as the rockets ignited. The raw power of the propulsion systems fired to life, and the ship surged upward with a force that pinned them against their seats. The entire vessel groaned under the strain, the bulkheads vibrating with the intensity of the thrust. Warning lights flickered on the consoles, but Kai’s hands stayed steady on the controls.
Below, the mine erupted into light, violently illuminated by the fire of the ship’s engines and the faint glint of Stanton’s forces as they scrambled in vain. Stanton’s cold, calculating gaze followed the ship’s ascent, his features lit intermittently by the flashing lights of his troops.
The acceleration pressed hard against their chests, each second feeling like an eternity as the ship rocketed higher, slicing through the atmosphere. The nose of the ship punched through the thick clouds, and for the briefest moment, the darkness of the eclipse gave way to the inky black of space. They had left the shadow behind.
“Come on,” Aria muttered, gripping the armrest beside her. The ship shuddered violently, the vibration rattling through the floor, the walls, and the air itself.
The ascent was grueling, the engines screaming as they pushed the ship higher. The crew could feel the raw power beneath them, each jolt and tremor a reminder of just how much strain the vessel was under. For a moment, it seemed like the ship might rip itself apart—but then...
In an instant, everything shifted.
One moment, the ship had been tearing through the sky, its frame shaking with the force of the engines, the sheer violence of the ascent threatening to overwhelm them. The next, the roar of the rockets cut off, leaving only a distant hum of systems and the quiet creak of settling metal. The intense vibration ceased, and suddenly, it felt as if time itself had stilled.
Aria blinked, her grip tightening on the armrest as the sensation of weightlessness set in. The pressure that had pinned them into their seats vanished, and the view outside the bridge window shifted from the deep blue of the atmosphere to the endless black of space. The stars twinkled faintly, undisturbed by the shadows below. They had broken free of the planet’s grip—and the eclipse.
The stark silence of space was eerie, the only noise the soft whir of internal systems adjusting to the change in environment. The ship’s lights flickered softly, casting long, calm shadows over the crew who had braced for disaster.
Kai’s hands remained steady on the controls, though his knuckles were white from the strain. He exhaled slowly, the tightness in his chest loosening as the ship adjusted to the vacuum of space. He glanced at Aria, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on the viewport.
The transition was almost surreal.
For the first time since the launch, the crew dared to breathe. The silence was profound, yet peaceful. They had made it. They had escaped.
Stanton stood at the edge of the mine, his fists clenched, watching as the massive ship lifted off into the sky. The rumble of its engines shook the ground beneath his feet, a brutal reminder of how close he had been. Overhead, the eclipse cast the entire mine into a foreboding darkness. The dim glow of vehicle headlights and the waning light of the ships engines provided the only light, their faint illumination throwing stark shadows across Stanton’s rigid form.
The ship’s engines burned bright, a streak of fire slicing through the eclipsed sky, trailing smoke and light in its wake, its trajectory unmistakable—Aria Benowitz was escaping. The brilliance of the engines stood in stark contrast to the oppressive shadow around them, cutting through the darkness like a taunt.
“Sir,” Kerr’s voice interrupted his thoughts, hesitant yet urgent. He stood at attention beside Stanton, his expression tight with anticipation. “Should we send a corvette after them? We can catch them before they break orbit.”
Stanton’s jaw tightened, his gaze never leaving the glowing scar the ship was carving across the sky. The eerie light of the eclipse deepened the lines of his face, casting his features into sharp relief. The cool air did little to temper the fire burning in his chest. Every instinct screamed at him to chase them, to bring Aria down before she could slip away completely. But this… this had gone beyond a simple pursuit.
“No,” Stanton’s voice was low, controlled, though his fury simmered just beneath the surface. Kerr’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly masked it.
“Sir? With all due respect, we could—”
“I said no, officer.” Stanton’s voice cut through the night like a blade, sharp and unyielding. He turned slowly, finally tearing his gaze away from the sky to face his second-in-command. The muted glow of the eclipse illuminated his eyes, now cold and calculating.
Kerr hesitated, visibly confused but too disciplined to ask further. “Then… what’s the plan, sir?”
Stanton’s lips curled into a tight smile, his gaze distant as he stared after the fading trail of the ship. The light from its engines faded into the darkness, leaving only the oppressive shadow of the eclipse behind. “I’ll handle it,” he said coldly, leaving no room for questions.
Kerr straightened, nodding once. “Understood, sir.”
The mine plunged into an eerie quiet as the roar of the engines faded completely. Stanton remained still, the faint beams of vehicle lights casting harsh, angular shadows against the walls of the mine. The once-distant fire in his eyes seemed to burn brighter, his resolve unwavering despite the suffocating darkness around him.
As the eclipse reached its zenith, Stanton turned back toward the horizon, his thoughts a quiet storm. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Aria stood on the bridge, the vastness of space stretching before her. The stars flickered against the inky black canvas, a distant reminder of how far they’d come. The crew gathered behind her, silent for a moment, each of them taking in the reality—they had escaped. Battered, bruised, but alive.
The ship hummed softly, still rough around the edges, unfinished. But it was theirs. A home.
Kai broke the silence, his voice steady. “We’ve made it this far. What do we call her?”
The crew exchanged glances, tired smiles breaking through. Zaya leaned against the console, her usual sharpness softened by exhaustion. “She deserves a name that reflects what we’ve survived.”
Bakari nodded from his place at the engineering station. “Something that speaks to the fight ahead.”
Aria turned back to them, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and responsibility. She had never envisioned leading a crew like this, never imagined this moment—but now, standing here, it felt right.
After a few moments of discussion, ideas tossed around between weary voices, Aria’s gaze drifted out to the stars. "We’ve been through hell,” she said softly. “But we’re still here. We’re still standing."
Kai smiled faintly, his hands resting on the pilot’s controls. “How about The Endurance? It fits.”
The name resonated. The ship was more than just an escape vessel—it was a testament to their struggle, their resilience. It would carry them forward.
Aria nodded, her voice quiet but firm. “The Endurance.”
She turned back to the viewport, watching as the stars slowly drifted by. With a soft command, she logged the ship’s name into the system. The letters appeared across the holographic interface, glowing softly: The Endurance.
A sense of calm settled over the crew. They had a name, a purpose, and for the first time in months, hope stretched out before them—far beyond Ironport, and into the stars.
Aria stood there a moment longer, the weight of leadership heavy but no longer unbearable. They had a long journey ahead. But for now, they had this.
They had The Endurance.
End of Chapter 1
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