The cockpit of the Infinity & Beyond hummed softly, a steady rhythm that had become as familiar as my own heartbeat. I leaned back in the pilot’s chair, the glow of the galaxy map casting a faint blue light across my face. Luna, my ever-present copilot, was curled up at my feet, her soft snores a comforting counterpoint to the distant whir of the Frame Shift Drive. We’d been at this for days—scouring the edges of the populated bubble for a system worthy of a long-term colony, a dream I’d held since my earliest days as a Commander, back when I first joined the ranks of pilots exploring the galaxy.
I’d just installed an engineered SCO Frame Shift Drive the day before, a decision that felt like a whim at the time but would soon prove to be a stroke of fate. The galaxy map flickered as I scrolled through systems, my eyes heavy from hours of searching. Luna stirred, lifting her head to glance at the canopy—a habit from home where she’d bark at anything that moved, especially the delivery truck she despised. Out here, there were no delivery vehicles to rile her up, but she still kept a vigilant watch on the stars.
“Almost there, girl,” I murmured, scratching behind her ears. “We’re gonna find a new home today—I can feel it.”
Back in Col 285 Sector KE-T b19-0, where my primary base, Georgie Girl, served as our hub, I’d been steadily expanding the colony. But I’d hit a snag while building up the system’s infrastructure. I’d intended to construct a Security station in an orbital slot over planet 2A, a key step in fortifying the colony’s defenses. The construction seemed to go smoothly, but when I checked the system’s colonial management logs, it registered as a Coriolis station instead. Exhausted and confused, I decided to build another Security station in a different slot, hoping to correct the error. To my frustration, the logs showed that one as a Coriolis too.
Luna had sensed my irritation, nudging my hand with her nose as I muttered to myself. The next day, I flew out to both stations to investigate, and to my relief, they were both Security stations as intended. It turned out the colonial management system required manual input to specify the station type—a detail I’d overlooked in my fatigue. A quick adjustment in the logs fixed the display, and I chuckled at my mistake. “Guess we’ve got extra security now, Luna,” I said, her tail thumping in agreement. With Georgie Girl’s colony on solid footing, I turned my sights to finding a new system to expand our reach.
The system I had my eye on now was very nice: High Metal Content worlds, ringed gas giant, an asteroid belt,18 planetary bodies in total. It was perfect for a sprawling colony, a place to build a legacy beyond Georgie Girl’s domain. I punched in the coordinates for COL 285 SECTOR AX-J C9-7 and initiated the jump sequence. The SCO drive roared to life, and Luna’s ears perked up at the sound, her tail thumping softly against the floor as we leapt into hyperspace.
But fate had other plans. When I arrived, the claim was denied by the Colonization Directorate—a holographic interface that managed system allocations across the bubble. The hologram’s red error message flashed: “System Already Claimed.” I groaned, slumping back in my chair. Luna sensed my frustration and nudged my hand with her nose, her warm brown eyes looking up at me as if to say, Keep going, Commander.
Monique’s voice crackled over the comms from Georgie Girl—she’d been my guiding star through this entire journey, helping me rebuild my skills as a pilot after a long hiatus, and ensuring I secured Georgie Girl’s system before the claim window expired. “Try the next system over,” she suggested, her tone calm despite my rising irritation. “It’s worth a shot.” In my tired haze, I selected the neighboring system without much hope. To my shock, it was even better—more slots, richer resources, and the Colonization Directorate approved the claim. A familiar Directorate agent, Ikaros, appeared in the hologram, his voice steady: “Competition’s fierce out here, Commander. You got lucky—another pilot’s claim was a split second too late.”
Luna barked sharply, her front paws lifting off the floor as if celebrating the victory. I laughed, ruffling her fur. “You’re right, girl. This is our spot. COL 285 SECTOR AX-J C9-9—it’s ours.”
The first step was to establish an outpost, but the system’s layout threw me a curveball. The primary location was forced onto the farthest planet of the third star, a staggering 45,000 light seconds away. Without the SCO drive, that distance would’ve been a dealbreaker. Even with it, the journey was grueling. The nearest supply ship, a Trailblazer-class vessel named The Star, was five jumps out, six jumps back—a half-hour round trip each time. I needed to haul materials to build the outpost, and every ton counted.
To maximize cargo space, I made a tough call: I removed the shields from Infinity & Beyond. Luna tilted her head, her ears flopping as I muttered, “I know, I know—it’s risky. But we’ve got no choice.” I flew to a nearby station to store the shields, promising myself I’d retrieve them later. With the extra space, I loaded up on titanium, machinery, and other essentials, beginning the first of what would become 30 exhausting trips.
Each jump to The Star and back was a test of endurance. Luna took to napping at my feet during the long supercruise stretches, her gentle snores a reminder of home. But when we arrived at Heisenberg City—a station that became our lifeline—she’d perk up at the sound of the docking controller’s voice. “G’day, Commanda!” the friendly Australian woman chimed over the comms, her accent warm and welcoming. “Always good to see you; you’re authorized to come on in, so get dockin’!” The station’s radar outline glowed a vivid green, a testament to our growing alliance after countless visits. Luna’s tail wagged furiously every time she heard that voice, as if she, too, felt the warmth of a friend in the void.
The trips blurred together—load up, jump, supercruise, deliver, repeat. By the final stretch, I was beyond exhausted, my focus frayed. I’d just picked up the last 261 tons of titanium from Heisenberg City, the final trip to complete the outpost. As I approached the Colonization ship in COL 285 SECTOR AX-J C9-9, my tired fingers slipped on the controls. Instead of slowing down, I accidentally triggered an SCO boost. The Infinity & Beyond lurched forward with a sickening jolt, and before I could react, the screen went black.
When my vision cleared, I was no longer in the cockpit. My point of view had been shoved into the cargo bay—a place pilots aren’t meant to see. Through a jagged gap in the broken bulkheads, I glimpsed a sliver of the windshield, and beyond it, the Colonization ship loomed. But my controls were unresponsive. Panic set in as I realized I had no idea how close my hull was to destruction—who knows now much integrity was left... no shields, and a rebuy cost of 21 million credits staring me in the face. Worse, losing that titanium would mean another trip back to Heisenberg City, a frustration I couldn’t bear after being this close to finishing.
Luna whimpered, sensing my distress, and pawed at my leg. “I’ve got to fix this, girl,” I said, my voice shaky. I powered down the ship’s systems and restarted them, holding my breath as the cockpit came back online. When the displays flickered to life, I let out a whoop of relief—the Infinity & Beyond was intact, hull at 94%, and the 261 tons of titanium still safely in the hold. Luna barked excitedly, her front paws lifting off the floor as if she knew we’d dodged disaster. “We did it, Luna!” I cheered, scooping her into a hug. “Let’s get this outpost finished.”
With the final delivery complete, the outpost in COL 285 SECTOR AX-J C9-9 sprang to life—a foothold in a system brimming with potential. But I was too tired to celebrate. I needed to head back to Georgie Girl in Col 285 Sector KE-T b19-0 to rest and continue building my original colony. First, I had to retrieve my shields. I’d left them at a nearby station, but in my exhaustion, I couldn’t remember which one. I clicked through systems manually, my eyes bleary, until I remembered the galactic transfer network. At a nearby station, I ordered the shields to be delivered, then shut down for the night, Luna curling up at my feet as I drifted off.
The next morning, the shields were waiting for me at the station. I installed them, charted a course back to Georgie Girl, and reflected on the journey. As the Infinity & Beyond cruised through hyperspace, Luna stirred from her nap, her ears perking up at the sound of the FSD. She climbed onto the copilot’s seat, her nose pressed against the canopy as if watching for the next adventure. I smiled, resting a hand on her back. “We’ve got a lot more to build, girl,” I said softly. “But for now, let’s go home.”
The stars stretched into infinity, and with Luna by my side, I knew we were just getting started.
