A Note to the Reader
This is a story of quiet moments and gentle journeys. The pacing is slow, the tone is chill. It is written to be a comfortable blanket after a long day. If that's not what you're looking for right now, that's perfectly okay. It will be here, waiting, for when you need a slow, calming escape.
If you'd like to continue, perhaps grab a hot drink if it's cold, or a cool one if it's hot. Find a comfortable spot. Maybe put on some calm music or space ambience. This story is best enjoyed when you're ready to unwind and just… be.
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The cockpit smelled of ozone and old metal, with just a hint of earth beneath it all. Solo sat in the pilot's chair, his hands resting on the controls. The white suit he wore was scuffed at the elbows and knees, and the helmet's grey visor showed nothing of the face beneath, only reflecting the soft blue glow of the holographic display. He was, as ever, a man-shaped void in the world, a silent question mark wrapped in familiar cloth and ceramic.
He read the checklist aloud, his voice a calm, filtered sound in the small space.
"Life support," he said. "Nominal."
"Reactor core," he continued. "Stable."
"Navigation systems," he finished. "Responsive."
He let out a quiet breath. The sound was loud in the stillness.
He reached for the comms panel. The ship's systems hummed around him, a low and steady song. He opened a channel.
"All systems green," he reported. "The coupling from the derelict worked. It's holding steady."
From outside the ship, a low, grinding rumble answered. It resolved into words, translated by the patient AI, NOMAD.
"Told you it would," the voice said, though the vibration underneath was pure amusement. Gromm was trying not to laugh.
"You told me a lot of things," Solo replied, a slight warmth entering his tone. It was the closest they ever came to an argument. "Most of them were wrong."
"Most of them were jokes," Gromm's translated voice corrected. "There's a difference."
Outside, the vandunian stood against the hull of the Kintsugi. He was a massive figure, his surface a rugged grey like stone that had been left rough on purpose. Fine asteroid dust coated his shoulders like frost.
Gromm moved along the ship's side. His hand, rough as pumice, ran along one of the golden seams where two salvaged plates met. The ship itself was a patchwork of different metals, each one telling a story of salvage and second chances. The entire vessel was a collection of stories, held together with gold.
The airlock hissed open. Gromm stepped inside, his weight making the metal floor ring softly. He stood in the center of the empty cargo bay. The space was large and quiet, waiting.
"Well," his voice came through the internal speakers now. "This is what they call room for growth."
Solo's voice came from the cockpit doorway. "It's empty."
"Exactly." Gromm set down a small, sealed crate. "Look at it. Vast, untouched, full of potential." He made the grinding sound that was his laughter. "Like you were, five years ago. Look at you now."
They walked together through the ship, past the compact living area with its single bunk and the galley's quiet synthesizer. The passage led them out of the hangar bay and into the living quarters of the hollowed asteroid.
The room was small but warm. Rough-hewn walls arched overhead, embedded with glowing mineral veins that cast a soft, coppery light. A large, circular viewport showed the asteroid field outside, a scattered garden of stone and shadow.
Gromm settled into his reinforced seat. The silence felt comfortable between them, the kind that only exists between people who know each other well. A mineral garden glowed in one corner, slow-growing crystals catching the light.
"So," Gromm said. "We're really doing this. You're really leaving."
It wasn't a question. Gromm didn't ask many questions. He mostly made observations and then delivered jokes about them.
Solo stood by the viewport, looking out at the stars.
"Yes," he said simply. "I'm sure."
"Why?" Gromm asked. It was a real question this time. "Why leave? Why not stay here? We could keep working. Keep building things together."
"Because there's a galaxy out there," Solo said. "And I want to see it. And I want to…" He paused, the suit's systems whirring softly. "I want to pay you back, Gromm. For finding me. For teaching me. For building me a ship."
Gromm was quiet for a long moment. The low hum of life support filled the space. "You already paid me back," Gromm said finally. "Every day for five years, you paid me back. Every time you learned something new, every time you helped me haul salvage. You paid me back."
"I want to do more," Solo said.
The Vandunian was quiet again. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than usual. "Five years ago, I found you in a cryo-pod, drifting through nothing. I gave you a name. I taught you everything I know. That's what a father does."
Solo stood very still. Then he moved closer and placed a suited hand on Gromm's shoulder. The stone was warm.
"I'll call," Solo said. "Every time I dock at a station with a relay. You'll know I'm thinking of you."
Gromm made the grinding sound of approval. "That's good. That's good."
He stood. "Come on. Let's get you back to the ship. You've got a test flight to do."
Back in the Kintsugi's cockpit, Solo settled into the pilot's chair. His hands found the controls. They felt like they belonged there.
"All systems nominal," NOMAD's calm voice noted.
"Launching now," Solo replied.
The ship hummed, a deeper note joining the chorus. The Kintsugi lifted gently, rising up through the hangar bay and out into the open space beyond.
"How does she feel?" Gromm's voice came through the comms.
"Like home," Solo said.
"I know," Gromm said. "That's why I'm letting you go."
There was a pause. Solo could feel Gromm's smile through the static.
"Before you get too comfortable out there, I've got an idea," Gromm said. "A test run. Something simple, just to make sure everything works the way it's supposed to. You interested?"
"Very interested. Where am I going?"
"Nothing too far. Less than a cycle away from the asteroid. There's a mining settlement on the edge of the Kalyx system. There's a scientist there, name of Zaela. She needs a shipment of mineral spores. Specialized stuff. Helps with her experiments."
"What's in the crate you left in the cargo bay?" Solo asked.
"That would be those spores," Gromm confirmed. "You'll deliver the crate to Zaela, make sure it gets there safely."
Solo input the coordinates. The route appeared, a pale line of light stretching out through the star lanes.
"I'm ready," he said.
"I know you are," Gromm said, now proud to let him start his first adventure.
Solo engaged the thrusters. The Kintsugi accelerated smoothly, carrying him away from the asteroid, toward his first delivery, toward the start of everything.
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DELIVERY MANIFEST
Contract: KTS-001
Client: Gromm
Destination: Kalyx System, Outpost Gamma
Package: Xenomyces Mineralis spores
Status: Ready for departure
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