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Luca settled into the pilot's seat of the TL9 shuttle, Emily sliding into the co-pilot position beside him. Their hands found each other between the seats. Her fingers laced through his, and she squeezed once.

Ready?

He squeezed back. Always.

This was their ship. Their crew. Their mission. And they were going to show his dad and Karen exactly what the future held for them.

From the back seat, Luca caught his father's eyes flicking to their joined hands, then back to the viewport. No comnt. But Athan's expression shifted, sothing between surprise and acceptance settling into the lines around his eyes.

Yeah, Dad. Things changed while I was gone.

Behind them, Karen and Michael settled into the rear seats, Athan following a beat later as the airlock sealed behind them..

The shuttle lifted smoothly from the dock, and Luca guided it out into open space. The Triumph of Darron ca into view, massive and bristling with sensors, its running lights making it look like a constellation pulled from the stars.

Emily's hand tightened in his as the Triumph ca into view. He looked sideways and caught her expression, fierce pride mixed with that spark she got when they'd pulled off sothing impossible.

God, he loved that look.

"We did good," she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

"We did great," he corrected.

Luca brought the shuttle around toward the ship's stern. As they approached, Deck 5's massive hangar bay doors opened in response to his transponder. "Deck 5," he announced. "Our main hangar."

The shuttle slipped inside, and the scale beca imdiately apparent. The hangar stretched out in all directions, a cavernous space of tal and composite flooring. Overhead, magnetic crane systems hung dormant. The walls were lined with equipnt lockers and charging stations, all empty and pristine.

"This space..." Athan started.

"Could fit the old Triumph," Luca finished. "The original one. Yeah, we had the sa thought."

Luca set the shuttle down gently, the landing gear kissing the deck with barely a sound. The hangar doors sealed shut behind them with a smooth, hydraulic hiss. Atmosphere flooded the bay.

"We're here," he said.

---

They stepped out of the shuttle, their boots echoing on the empty deck. The sound reverberated through the vast space, emphasizing just how empty it all was. Michael followed Karen out, taking in the massive hangar with quiet assessnt.

Athan stood in the middle of the hangar, slowly turning in a circle. His eyes tracked the overhead crane systems, the reinforced deck plating designed for heavy vehicles, the atmospheric processors humming quietly in the walls.

"Luca," he said finally. "I've built mining ships. Shuttles. Dropships by the dozen." He paused. "I've got a new concept on the boards for a colony transport, but it's still theoretical. This?" He gestured at the hangar. "I've never seen anything like this."

"It's purpose-built," Emily said. "Deep space exploration. Long-range missions."

"How long?"

"Two years, if we're careful with food supplies," Luca said.

Athan whistled low. "The power generation alone..."

"Ryan's been working on extracting the full schematics," Emily offered. "He can walk you through the specs later. For now, let's see the rest."

They walked toward the main corridor, their footsteps continuing to echo. Karen kept pace with Luca and Emily, while Michael and Athan followed behind, Athan already asking technical questions about the crane systems and launch protocols. Luca led them to the central elevator shaft.

"Eight decks total," Luca explained as they descended. "Command up top, crew and science in the middle, hangar and cargo below, engineering at the bottom."

"Let's start at the bottom," Athan said. "I want to see the guts of this thing."

---

Deck 8 was all machinery. The fusion reactor sat at the ship's core, a massive glowing sphere encased in magnetic containnt fields and surrounded by enough shielding to stop a nuclear blast. Coolant pipes as thick as Luca's arm snaked through the ceiling.

"This is the primary reactor," Emily said, gesturing to the glowing sphere. "Deuterium-tritium fusion. We're currently sitting at ninety-six percent fuel capacity."

Athan approached one of the diagnostic panels, his fingers hovering over the holographic readouts. "Output?"

"Fifteen gigawatts continuous. Redundant backup on Deck 7."

Athan nodded, clearly impressed. He walked along the reactor's periter, studying the fuel injection systems and magnetic confinent arrays. When he reached the fuel storage tanks, he stopped.

"These tanks..." He looked up at the massive cylinders stretching from floor to ceiling. "How much fuel are we talking?"

"Forty tric tons of deuterium-tritium mix," Emily said. "Enough for two years of operations, plus ergencies."

"And these?" Athan pointed to a series of strange, funnel-shaped structures integrated into the hull near the fuel tanks.

"Magnetic Intake Funnels," Luca said, walking over to join his father. Emily ca to stand on his other side, close enough their shoulders brushed. "We haven't used them yet, the ship was fully fueled when we got the upgrade, but when we need to refuel—"

"We approach a gas giant," Emily continued seamlessly. "With the reactionless drive, we can skim the upper thermosphere and create a magnetic funnel to scoop atmosphere."

Athan's eyebrows rose. "You're going to surf a gas giant?"

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"That's the idea," Luca said with a small grin. "We skim the clouds—"

"And the centrifuge processes it into fuel," Emily finished, and Luca caught the excitent in her voice. She loved this part. "Hydrogen for water, deuterium for the reactor."

"Heavy hydrogen," Athan murmured. "The centrifuge separates it by mass."

"Exactly," they said in unison, then exchanged a quick grin.

"You're completely self-sufficient," Athan said, and there was sothing like awe in his voice. "You don't need a fuel depot. You don't need a port. You just... fly to a gas giant and fill up."

"That's the idea," Luca said. "Though we haven't tested it yet."

Karen had been quiet through most of the engineering tour, but now she spoke up. "And if sothing goes wrong? If the reactor fails in deep space?"

"Multiple redundancies," Emily said imdiately. "Backup reactor, ergency batteries, and in a worst-case scenario, the ship has chemical thrusters that can run on stored hydrazine for short-range maneuvering. We could limp sowhere if we had to."

Athan was still studying the magnetic intake funnels. "The engineering on this is incredible. The power requirents alone to generate a magnetic field strong enough to funnel gases at orbital velocities..."

"Twelve gawatts per funnel," Emily said. "We have six of them."

Athan shook his head slowly. "Four and a half years ago, I was shuffling paperwork and managing budgets. Now I'm looking at technology I barely understand, and it's ours." He turned to look at Luca and Emily. "You two have no idea how far humanity has co. People back on Earth... they don't see this. They don't understand."

"They will," Karen said quietly.

They moved through Deck 7 quickly, showing their backup reactors, shield generators, and water reclamation systems. Athan stopped occasionally to examine subsystems, but the real destination was below.

---

Deck 6 was pure storage space. The elevator opened onto a cavernous warehouse, easily eight ters high, with row after row of empty floor space marked by tallic rails embedded in the deck. At the far end, a wide ramp led up to Deck 5, rails continuing up the incline for cargo transfer.

Athan stepped out, his engineer's eye imdiately recognizing the infrastructure. "These rails... Genesis Platform has the sa system. System standard, apparently."

"Magnetic locking," Emily confird. "At least, that's our best guess. We haven't actually used them yet."

Athan walked along one of the rails, ntally calculating space. "How much storage are we talking?"

"Twenty-eight thousand cubic ters," Luca said. "Not counting the smaller lockers and compartnts scattered throughout the other decks."

"Jesus," Michael muttered.

Emily pulled up a tablet, scrolling through a list. "We need to fill this space. Vehicles first, dropships, shuttles, light reconnaissance vehicles, ATVs, utility vehicles. General supplies for extended research operations."

"dical supplies," Luca added. "Outpost equipnt. Research materials that can't be synthesized on the fly."

"MREs," Emily continued. "A lot of MREs. If we're planning for a hundred crew mbers, three als a day, two years..." She did the quick math. "That's over two hundred thousand als. Plus a ten percent ergency buffer."

Athan's eyes widened. "That's not a shopping trip. That's a convoy."

Karen had been quiet, but now her eyebrows were climbing. "You're planning a long trip."

Emily moved closer to Luca's side, and Luca's hand found the small of her back. They'd made this list as a team and gone through every deck, every compartnt, cataloging what a hundred-person crew would need for two years in deep space.

"It's going to cost a fortune," Athan said flatly.

Beside him, Emily stiffened.

"Athan," Karen said, her tone suddenly sharp. "Don't be cheap. These kids have earned it. And they'll have the cash for it."

Athan held up his hands in surrender. "I'm not saying they shouldn't have it. I'm saying it's going to take ti to procure everything. So of this equipnt... you're not going to find it sitting in a warehouse on Earth. Custom lab equipnt, hydroponics systems rated for deep space..."

"We'll make it work," Emily said firmly, and Luca felt her shift even closer. Solid. Unmovable. "We have to."

Karen's expression shifted, her voice carrying a sudden, heavy weight. "You understand what you're asking for," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Supplies," Luca said. "Equipnt. Food."

"Two hundred thousand MREs," Karen said slowly. "Plus dry goods, frozen storage, fresh produce for hydroponics. Vehicles. dical equipnt." She paused. "You're asking for enough resources to sustain a hundred people for two years."

"We need to be ready," Emily said.

"I know." Karen walked to the edge of the cargo bay, looking out at the vast empty space. "But you need to understand sothing about Earth right now... things haven't changed as much as people hoped."

Athan turned to her, frowning. "The rationing?"

"Still in place. In most places, anyway."

Luca nodded slowly. He'd only been gone five months. He knew how things were.

"Four and a half years isn't enough to rebuild global agriculture after the solar flare knocked out half the world's power grid," Karen said. "We've made progress. Food production is up. Distribution networks are better. But we're not back to pre-System levels. Not even close."

Michael shifted uncomfortably beside her. He knew what was coming.

"In North Arica, Europe, most of Asia, people are fine," Karen continued. "Rationing is minimal. So restrictions on luxury items, but most people eat well enough. But Africa? The Middle East? Parts of South Arica?" She shook her head. "They're still going hungry. Food distribution is tightly controlled. There's political tension around resource allocation. Who gets what, and why."

"Karen," Emily started.

"I'm not saying you don't deserve it," Karen cut her off. "You've earned every credit you'll spend. You've done more for humanity in five months than most people will do in a lifeti. But perception matters, Emily."

Athan's expression shifted as understanding dawned. "Oh."

"Yeah," Karen said quietly. "Oh."

Luca looked between them. "What?"

Athan turned to face his son. "You're going to be heroes when you get back. The crew that crossed four light-years and survived. The first successful interstellar mission. Every news feed on Earth will be running stories about you."

"And then," Karen continued, picking up the thread, "those sa heroes are going to turn around and stock up for a hundred-person crew for a two-year mission. While people on three continents are still going hungry."

A chill settled over the cargo bay that had nothing to do with the life support systems.

"It's going to look bad," Michael said softly. It was the first ti he'd contributed to the conversation in nearly an hour. "Really bad."

Luca felt Emily's hand find his. "We need the supplies," Emily said, her voice steady despite the tightness Luca could feel in her grip.

"I know," Karen said. "And you'll get them. But we need to give them a reason. We need to manage the optics."

"Is this about Barkov?" Luca asked, stepping slightly closer to Emily. Shoulder to shoulder now. Karen had already warned them about the backlash from Monaco, but this felt bigger.

"It's about everything," Karen said. "The IFC has enemies. Powerful ones. They've been looking for ammunition to use against us ever since Monaco. This?" She gestured to the massive empty cargo bay. "This gives them ammunition. 'IFC's golden children hoard food while the world starves.'"

"It's not hoarding," Luca said. "It's mission preparation."

"You know that. I know that. But the average person watching their news feed?" Karen shook her head. "They're going to see the Triumph crew, with more wealth than most countries, stocking up while their neighbors are still on rations. It doesn't matter that it's only for a hundred people. What matters is why you need it."

She looked directly at Luca, and he understood. She wasn't asking. She didn't want to know.

Emily's face had gone pale. "We didn't think about—"

"I know," Karen said, her voice softening. "You've been focused on the mission. But that's why I'm here."

The cargo bay fell silent except for the faint hum of the ship's systems.

Luca looked at Emily. She looked back, and he saw his own frustration mirrored there, but also determination. Yeah. We've got this.

"So what do we do?" Luca asked, still holding Emily's gaze for a heartbeat before turning back to Karen.

Karen's expression hardened into sothing calculating. "We spread the procurent over ti. We use the right channels, IFC supply networks, and authorized contractors. We source from different suppliers across different regions. We make it look less like hoarding and more like normal operations." She paused. "And we prepare for questions. Because this is going to cause problems."

Athan looked at the empty cargo bay, at the thousands of cubic ters that needed to be filled. Then his eyes drifted to Luca and Emily, still standing close.

The weight of it settled over Luca. It wasn't about the supplies. It was about what the supplies ant. A mission he couldn't talk about. A destination he couldn't reveal. A purpose that would make people ask questions he couldn't answer.

But Emily's hand was still in his, warm and solid, and when he looked at her, she gave the smallest nod.

"We'll be ready for the questions," Luca said.

Now, standing in the cavernous space, Luca understood what his father had ant.

They would be a target.

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