Solar Destiny Origin

Part 1: The Auction

The air in the industrial trading outpost was thick with sweat, smoke, and desperation. The tang of metal mixed with burning oils, a sharp sting that settled deep in the lungs. Dim, flickering lights barely held back the gloom, their glow reflecting off grease-smeared walls and the rough faces of traders, smugglers, and scavengers who haggled with a ferocity borne of survival.

Elendril moved through the crowd, his stride purposeful and his sharp blue eyes set with quiet determination. To the untrained eye, he was just another spacer, his burgundy-red skin blending into the chaos of the outpost. But those who met his gaze felt something more—a fire. A promise of trouble, or hope, depending on which side of the law you stood.

The noise faded for him when his eyes fell on her.

The ship sat like a forgotten ghost in the center of the cavernous hall, battered and scarred from years of misuse. Her edges were dulled, her hull worn and pocked with age, a few panels hanging like broken teeth. To anyone else, she was junk. A husk.

But Elendril saw it—the bones of a fighter, waiting to be reborn.

“You’re wasting your time, you know,” a voice murmured at his side, low and dry. He turned to find Nira, arms crossed and a skeptical expression twisting her sharp features. Her blue eyes glinted in the dim light, curiosity warring with amusement. She looked every bit a Byni warrior—all confidence and sharp wit—though her curly black hair softened her edges just enough to unsettle those who underestimated her.

“No one wants her. Why would you?”

Elendril didn’t take his eyes off the ship. “Because I know something they don’t.”

“And what’s that?” Nira tilted her head, her skepticism clear.

“A good ship isn’t just engines and metal,” he said, his voice softening. There was reverence there—a kind of gentleness rarely seen in men who lived on the edge of war and rebellion. “She’s waiting for the right captain to bring her back to life.”

Nira’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “You sound like one of those dusty old spacer poets. I thought you were smarter than that.”

Elendril’s grin flashed sharp and bright. “Smart enough to bet on her.”

A gravelly voice broke the hum of haggling. “Lot 13: The vessel! Starting bid at eight thousand credits!”

Gasps rippled through the room. Traders muttered, shaking their heads. Eight thousand credits was a steep price for a ship that looked ready to fall apart if someone so much as sneezed too hard.

“Ten thousand credits,” Elendril called, his voice ringing through the hall like a clear note in a discordant song.

The room went silent. Heads turned, and a murmur swept the crowd. Who was the fool paying a fortune for junk? Nira’s expression shifted, her arms falling to her sides as she turned sharply to face him.

“You’re insane,” she hissed, her voice low and sharp. “You don’t have that kind of money. What are you doing?”

Elendril’s eyes never wavered from the auctioneer. “Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Nira repeated incredulously. “You’re betting your future on that?”

“I’m betting on something worth believing in.” His voice was calm, resolute, but his heart thundered in his chest.

“Ten thousand going once…”

“Going twice…”

“I’ll take it.” Elendril raised his hand higher, sealing the deal.

“Sold!” The auctioneer’s gavel came down with a resounding thud. “To the gentleman with more credits than sense!”

The jeers of the crowd bounced off Elendril, harmless as dust. He didn’t care what they thought. All he cared about was the future waiting for him in the rusted frame of that ship. The corners of his mouth curled into the faintest smile as he took a long, steady breath.

She was his now.

---

Part 2: The First Flight

Bolen’s gruff curses echoed through the bowels of the ship, rising like smoke from engineering. Sparks burst against the walls as he wrestled with a stubborn cluster of wires. Elendril watched him from the bridge, leaning lazily against the pilot’s chair with his arms crossed.

“This isn’t a ship,” Bolen shouted. “It’s a damned coffin with wings!”

Elendril grinned. “She’s got character, Bolen. Don’t judge her just yet.”

“Character won’t keep her engines from exploding like fireworks the second you ask for thrust!” Bolen shot back, his thick hands wrenching free a cable with an audible snap.

Nira, perched at the cracked navigator’s console, chimed in with an exaggerated smirk. “Bolen’s right, Captain. At this point, the only thing holding her together is your ridiculous optimism.”

“Someone has to believe in her,” Elendril countered smoothly. He stepped forward, resting his hand against the pilot’s yoke. The ship—his ship—shuddered beneath him like a wounded animal taking its first steps.

The comm crackled, a sudden burst of static that made them all jump. A distorted voice cut through the hum of the ship’s systems:

“Attention unidentified vessel: This is Itherian Patrol Three. You are in restricted space. Prepare to be boarded.”

The words struck like a knife.

“Itherians,” Nira breathed, her smirk evaporating. Her fingers danced over her console, pulling up external scans. “Two patrol ships closing fast. Elendril, I think they mean it.”

Elendril didn’t hesitate. His voice cut through the rising tension like a blade. “Bolen, I need engines online in thirty seconds!”

“Thirty?” Bolen roared. “You’re out of your mind!”

“Then we’re all out of time!” Elendril shouted back, his hands moving over the flickering controls.

The bridge shuddered violently as the engines roared to life, coughing smoke through every vent. Elendril gripped the yoke, knuckles whitening. Through the viewport, the Itherian ships loomed like predators—sleek, sharp, and deadly.

“We’ve got incoming fire!” Nira barked.

Laser bolts screamed past them, lighting up the empty void with flashes of red fire. The battered ship groaned and pitched under Elendril’s hands, but she moved. She responded.

“Hang on!” Elendril yelled, pushing the ship into a sharp dive. Bolen’s curses echoed through engineering as he fought to keep the engines alive.

The asteroid belt loomed ahead—a swirling storm of rocks and debris.

Nira’s voice cracked through the chaos. “You can’t be serious!”

“It’s a shortcut!” Elendril called back, a wild grin breaking across his face.

And he pushed the throttle to full.

The ship screamed forward, thrusters blazing as it plunged into the asteroid field. Rocks spun and tumbled like giants playing dice, their jagged surfaces glowing faintly in the light of distant stars.

“You’re going to kill us all!” Bolen shouted over the comms, his voice rough and panicked.

“Not today!” Elendril shot back, his hands steady on the yoke despite the ship’s violent shudders. He weaved through the chaos, each turn more daring than the last. A smaller asteroid glanced off their shields, sending sparks flaring across the console.

“Shields at twenty percent!” Nira called out, her voice strained but focused. Her fingers flew over the navigation controls, plotting a course that offered the slimmest chance of survival. “If you’re planning any miracles, now would be the time!”

“I’ve got one better,” Elendril replied, his grin wild. “Trust me.”

Nira muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.

Behind them, the Itherian patrol ships hesitated at the asteroid belt’s edge. Their sleek frames glimmered ominously as they circled, calculating. Then, one ship surged forward, its weapons lighting up the void. Laser fire streaked past, searing trails into the blackness.

“They’re coming in!” Nira shouted.

“Let them,” Elendril said, banking hard to the left. He pulled the ship into a narrow gap between two spinning rocks, his knuckles white as the edges of the asteroids scraped against their shields. The pursuing Itherian ship wasn’t as lucky; a massive fragment struck its wing, sending it spiraling out of control before it exploded in a brilliant flash of light.

“One down,” Bolen muttered, his voice tight. “What about the other?”

The comm crackled as the second patrol ship broke through the asteroid belt, its weapons blazing. “Unidentified vessel, surrender immediately. This is your final warning.”

Elendril’s grin didn’t waver. “I think we’ll pass.”

He punched the thrusters, the ship lurching forward as he guided it through a twisting path of debris. The Itherian ship followed, its superior firepower cutting a swath through the field.

“Shields at five percent!” Nira’s voice was sharp, urgent.

“Almost there,” Elendril murmured, his eyes narrowing. He spotted an opening ahead—a gap just large enough for the ship to slip through. Beyond it, the dense cluster of asteroids gave way to open space.

“Hold on!” he yelled.

The ship roared through the gap, the hull scraping against the edges as sparks rained down inside the cockpit. The pursuing patrol ship hesitated, its pilot realizing too late that the maneuver was impossible for their bulkier vessel. A moment later, the Itherian ship collided with an asteroid, erupting in a fiery explosion that lit up the entire field.

A tense silence fell over the bridge, broken only by the hum of the ship’s battered engines.

“Did… did we just do that?” Bolen’s voice was incredulous.

Elendril leaned back in his seat, exhaling a long breath. “We did. And we’re still in one piece.”

Nira let out a shaky laugh, her hands falling from the controls. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“You’re welcome,” Elendril said, flashing her a grin.

Before they could relax, a proximity alarm blared across the console.

“What now?” Bolen groaned.

Nira scanned the display, her eyes narrowing. “Another ship. Looks like a bounty hunter—and they’ve recognized us.”

Elendril’s smile faded. “They think we’re the old crew.”

The comm crackled again, this time with a deep, menacing voice: “Vessel identified: Ironfang. You’ve got a bounty the size of a moon on your heads. Prepare to surrender, or be destroyed.”

“Ironfang? This ship really did have a reputation,” Nira said, her tone half-amused, half-wary.

Elendril tightened his grip on the yoke, his expression hardening. “Let’s show them it’s under new management. Nira, find us a way out. Bolen, give me everything she’s got.”

The ship shuddered as the engines flared to full power. Outside the viewport, the bounty hunter’s sleek craft loomed closer, its weapons systems lighting up. Elendril pushed the throttle forward, his jaw set as he guided the ship toward the shimmering edge of a nearby nebula.

“That’s suicide,” Bolen growled.

“It’s survival,” Elendril shot back. “Trust me.”

---

Over the next tense minutes, the Solar Destiny—once Ironfang—vanished into the swirling colors of the nebula, leaving the bounty hunter’s ship behind. When the comms finally fell silent, the crew let out a collective breath.

Bolen wiped a hand across his face, shaking his head. “You’re going to get us all killed, Captain.”

“Not today,” Elendril replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “She’s earned her name today.”

Nira looked over, curious. “Oh? And what are we calling her?”

Elendril glanced around the battered but defiant ship, his expression softening. “The Solar Destiny. Because she’s destined to shine bright.”

---

Over the following days, the crew completed a quick delivery to a resistance cell—a simple run of medical supplies to a hidden outpost. The payment went straight into repairing the ship.

Bolen spent hours in the engine room, rewiring circuits and replacing corroded parts. Nira cleaned up the navigation systems, clearing the old flight logs and calibrating the sensors. Elendril worked alongside them, buffing the scarred hull and polishing the ship’s worn metal exterior.

When they were done, the ship gleamed like the picture of hope Elendril had always imagined. As the Solar Destiny soared into space once more, her engines hummed with newfound life, leaving trails of light behind her.

---

Final Closing Scene:

“Where to, Captain?” Nira asked softly from the navigator’s seat.

Elendril smiled faintly, his eyes fixed on the stars ahead.

“Anywhere they need us.”

The Solar Destiny shot forward into the void, a lone spark of defiance against the encroaching dark.