The sun barely filtered through the heavy curtains of Aria’s apartment, casting faint, sterile light across the pristine room. Everything was in its place—perfectly aligned furniture, meticulously arranged decor. It was the kind of order that should have brought comfort, but to Aria, it felt suffocating. The quiet, the stillness, and the rigidity all pressed in on her, contrasting with the mess and chaos that had become her second life out in the mine.
She moved through her morning routine mechanically, each action a reflection of the discipline that had been drilled into her during her years in the fleet. Yet, even as she went through the motions, her thoughts were elsewhere—deep underground, among the rusting parts and the rough edges of the ship they were building. The faces of the crew, worn but determined, floated to the surface of her mind. Their trust, their hope, weighed heavily on her. They weren’t soldiers, not like the men and women she commanded aboard The Resolute. They weren’t bound by duty or loyalty to an empire—they were in it for survival, for freedom. And she was supposed to lead them.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her hands tightening the belt of her naval uniform. The dark fabric clung to her form, the silver insignia of her rank gleaming on her chest. The reflection staring back at her was crisp, composed, every inch the image of a fleet officer. But her eyes... they were tired, shadowed with doubts and haunted by the life she had chosen to leave behind.
Beneath the high collar of her uniform, just where the light touched her skin, the faint edge of a scar peeked out, a jagged line running down her neck. It was old, the result of a battle long past, but it never stopped reminding her of the choices that had led her here. Choices she couldn’t undo. Choices that had stained her hands with blood—not all of it was the enemy's. Aria’s fingers brushed the scar lightly, her jaw tightening as the memories came unbidden. That mission, that godforsaken cover-up... she shoved the thoughts down before they could fully form. There was no room for weakness.
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the docked shape of The Resolute loomed over the city’s skyline, a silent sentinel of the government she was slowly pulling away from. It was strange, she thought, how a single ship could symbolize so many different things. For the people in the Old Town, it was power, protection, the fist of the government keeping order in the chaotic sprawl of Ironport. For her crew at the mine, it was the very thing they were trying to escape from—the reminder that the system controlled everything, even the air they breathed.
And for Aria? She didn’t know anymore. It had once been a point of pride. But now? Now it felt like a lie she was barely holding onto.
She glanced at her uniform again, her hand lingering on the insignia. Could she really keep living this double life? How long before one side slipped, before Stanton—or worse, someone else—put the pieces together?
A soft chime from her terminal broke the silence. She had to report to The Resolute. Her time here was over for now. She slipped the final pieces of her uniform into place, squared her shoulders, and turned toward the door, leaving the stillness of the apartment behind.
Outside, the sun was rising higher, and with it, the weight of the choices she had yet to make.
The dim lighting of The Resolute’s command bridge reflected off the cold steel walls, casting long shadows over the tactical displays that dominated the room. Aria stood at the central console, her posture stiff, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the crew. The hum of machinery was the only sound in the background as they attended to their stations, running routine system checks, monitoring fuel levels, and reviewing sensor data. With the ship on standby for rapid deployment, this briefing was more procedural than anything—ensuring everything remained in working order, prepared for any sudden command from Ironport Fleet Base.
“Fuel levels steady,” Lieutenant Orla reported from her station, her fingers dancing over the console’s controls. “All systems green for rapid deployment, Captain.”
Aria nodded, barely registering the words. This was standard—routine work to keep the ship ready. Yet, today, there was something else gnawing at her, something she couldn’t shake. Stanton.
He stood near the rear of the bridge, his arms folded, his eyes sharp and unwavering as they locked onto her. He hadn’t said much during the briefing, just stood there, watching, observing. He had been doing that more often lately, making unannounced visits, lingering longer than necessary. It unsettled her.
Aria gave the final order to dismiss the crew, her voice clear but clipped. “Good work, everyone. Maintain the status quo and ensure readiness for further notice.”
As the officers filed out, she lingered at the console, pretending to review the display. In reality, she was waiting—waiting for the right moment to confront Stanton, to find out why he had been so present lately.
When the last crew member left, she turned to him, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp. “You’ve been on board more often than usual, Commander. Is there something I should be aware of?”
Stanton’s face remained impassive, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—something calculated. He stepped forward, just close enough to make his presence felt. “Just doing my part to ensure the ship remains ready, Captain,” he replied coolly. “After all, someone has to keep an eye on things while you’ve been... busy.”
Aria’s jaw tightened, though she kept her expression neutral. “I’ve kept up with all my duties, Commander. The Resolute’s always been prepared under my command.”
Stanton gave a thin smile, more like a predator playing with its prey. “Of course, Captain. But we both know you’ve had other... interests lately. Time off here and there. Delegating a little more.” He let the implication hang in the air, his gaze unwavering. “I like to stay informed.”
The tension between them thickened, and for a moment, Aria considered pressing him harder, but she knew better. This was a game Stanton was playing—subtle insinuations, carefully placed comments, all meant to rattle her, to make her slip.
She straightened, locking her gaze with his. “I assure you, Commander, nothing happens on this ship that I’m not fully aware of. Including your increased presence.”
Stanton’s smile never wavered, but his eyes darkened. “Good to hear, Captain. I’ll leave you to your duties, then.”
Without another word, he turned and exited the bridge, his footsteps echoing off the steel floors. Aria stood there for a moment longer, her fists clenched at her sides. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she turned back to the console.
As the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the mine in long shadows, Aria and Kai returned to camp. The crew bustled around the growing ship—what had once been a modest vessel had now evolved, thanks to Samir’s new designs, into something far larger than they had initially imagined. The skeletal frame of the ship dominated the landscape, towering over the workers who were busy welding and hauling parts.
As they approached, the tension in the air became palpable. Thom, the wiry mechanic who had always been skeptical, was at the center of it. His voice carried over the clang of metal, drawing eyes and ears toward him.
“We’ve been at this for days,” Thom said, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his tone sharp. “And what do we have to show for it? A pile of metal and promises. How are we supposed to finish this thing when the plans keep growing, but our resources don’t?”
Aria stepped forward, her expression calm but authoritative. “I get that you're frustrated,” she said, her voice steady. “This has become bigger than any of us expected. But we’ve secured new designs, ones that can take this ship beyond anything we originally planned.”
Thom didn’t back down. “That’s all well and good, but we don’t have the parts for this. We’re already running low on supplies.”
The crew shifted uneasily. Bakari stood nearby, arms folded, his expression neutral but attentive. He wasn’t speaking up yet, but Aria could feel the weight of his gaze. Thom’s words had sparked a fire among the workers, and it was up to her to put it out.
“We’ve been coordinating with Zaya,” Aria explained, her voice cutting through the rising murmurs. “She’s going to help us move parts in and out, getting what we need without raising alarms.”
Thom wasn’t convinced, though. He shook his head. “And we’re just supposed to trust that everything’s going to work out? That this Zaya can get us what we need without drawing the Navy’s attention?”
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting for everything to fall perfectly into place,” Aria countered, her voice firm. “But I didn’t take this on to fail. I promised you something, and I intend to deliver.”
Bakari, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke up, his voice carrying a note of caution. “It’s not that we don’t want this to work, Captain. But these people”—he gestured to the workers around them—“they’re risking everything. We need to know you have a plan. Something more than just Zaya running parts for us.”
Aria nodded, acknowledging the weight of his words. “I understand that. And I do have a plan. We’re going to scale up operations with Zaya’s help. Larger runs, more resources. It’s going to be risky, but the payoff is worth it. This ship isn’t just a dream—it’s our way out. But I need all of you on board.”
The silence that followed was tense. The wiry man still looked doubtful, but Bakari’s expression softened slightly. The crew exchanged glances, weighing their options.
After a moment, Bakari nodded. “Alright. We’re with you.”
The tension broke slightly as the crew began to murmur in agreement, though Thom still lingered on the edge, his eyes narrow and calculating.
Aria turned to Kai as the crew dispersed, her voice low. “Keep an eye on him,” she muttered, nodding toward the wiry man. “He’s going to be trouble.”
Kai nodded, his expression unreadable as he watched the man walk away. “I’ll handle it.”
As the night deepened, the camp buzzed with a renewed energy, but the undercurrent of tension remained. Aria knew they had to start escalating, going bigger in order to keep up. But there was danger in that too. For a moment she pondered whether she had been to cocky after all. But she quickly swept the notion aside.
This had to work.
The comms terminal in the mine hummed faintly, the blue glow of the screen casting an eerie light over Aria’s face as she waited for the connection to stabilize. The encrypted channel took longer to connect than usual, heightening her anticipation. Finally, Samir’s voice crackled through, curt as ever.
“What have you got for me?” Samir asked without preamble, his tone businesslike.
Aria straightened, pushing past the initial tension in the conversation. “We’ve made significant progress. The new designs you sent—they’re changing everything. The ship’s coming together faster than we expected.”
Samir let out a noncommittal hum. “And yet, I keep hearing how your resources are running thin. The bigger the ship, the more you’ll need to complete it. You sure this thing isn’t growing beyond your reach?”
Aria felt the weight of his words but stood firm. “We’re handling it. We’ve secured help—a smuggler’s going to get us what we need. It’s risky, but this whole thing was never without risk.”
There was a pause, and then Samir’s voice returned, quieter, more contemplative. “You strike me as a person who is willing to push limits, Captain, but tell me—how far are you really willing to go?”
Aria frowned, uncertain of the direction he was taking. “What are you getting at?”
“This isn’t just about building a ship anymore. You’ve crossed into something bigger. When you take action against the government—when you decide that their rules don’t apply to you—what do you think that makes you?”
Aria’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t about rebellion, Patel. I’m not trying to start a war. I just want freedom—freedom from their control. This is personal. I’m doing this on my terms.”
“And you think that’s where it ends?” Samir pressed, his voice sharper now. “That the government won’t see your ship, your little operation, as a threat? The moment you defy them, you’re on their radar. They won’t care whether you call it rebellion or survival.”
Aria’s hands clenched into fists. She wasn’t naive, but Samir’s questions were digging deeper than she’d expected. “I’m not interested in fighting their battles, Patel. I just want out.”
“Wanting out doesn’t mean you’re not already in the fight,” Samir countered. “The line between rebellion and survival—it’s thin, Captain. And once you cross it, there’s no going back.”
His words hung in the air, their weight pressing down on her. Aria had always told herself that this was about personal freedom, about escaping the system’s grip. But Samir was right. The more they built, the more they defied the government, the closer they came to being seen as enemies of the state.
She took a slow breath, steadying herself. “I know what I’m doing, Patel. I’m not looking for a revolution, but I won’t stop because the stakes are high. We’ll finish this ship, and when we do, we’ll be free.”
Samir was silent for a moment before speaking again, his tone less confrontational but still laced with caution. “Just be sure, Captain. Be sure that when the time comes, you’re ready for what that freedom costs.”
The comms clicked off before she could reply, leaving her alone in the darkened room with his words echoing in her mind.
The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows over the makeshift camp that had formed around the growing ship. Kai sat across from Aria, staring into the flames as the night deepened around them. The rest of the crew had settled down for the night, their quiet murmurs dying out as exhaustion took over. The tension from earlier still lingered in the air, a subtle but undeniable presence.
Kai broke the silence first, his voice low and thoughtful. “We need to talk about the crew.”
Aria shifted, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “What about them?”
Kai leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Things are getting tight, and Thom’s not the only one feeling it. Morale’s starting to dip, and if we don’t handle this right, we’re going to have more than just a few complaints on our hands. We’ve got to keep them on board—keep them believing in this.”
Aria sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I know. I could feel it today. The ship’s growing bigger, the stakes are getting higher, and they’re all wondering if we can actually pull it off.”
Kai nodded. “Exactly. And that kind of doubt? It spreads fast. We’ve been lucky so far, but if things start to unravel, we’ll be dealing with more than just resource shortages. We need to act, keep the crew invested. Maybe more than just Zaya running parts. We need to make sure they see progress.”
Aria stared into the fire, her mind working through the problem. “So what do you suggest?”
Kai shrugged slightly, glancing around the camp before answering. “We need to scale up, like you said. Zaya’s good, but if we’re going to meet Samir’s demands, we’ll need bigger runs. Something that shows the crew we’re making real progress. And we can’t just focus on the ship—we need to take care of the camp, too. They need to feel like they’re part of something, not just cogs in a machine.”
Aria nodded slowly. “You’re right. I’ve been too focused on getting the ship built. I didn’t think about how the crew was holding up.”
Kai’s voice softened. “You’re leading them, Aria. They’ll follow you, but they need to know you see them, not just the ship. If we keep them focused, keep them believing, we’ll make it through.”
Aria looked over at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You always know how to bring me back down to reality, don’t you?”
Kai chuckled, shaking his head. “Someone has to.”
They sat in silence for a moment longer, both of them feeling the weight of the choices ahead. The ship, the crew, the growing risks—they were walking a fine line, and both of them knew it. But as long as they stuck together, they had a chance.
“We’ll talk to Zaya in the morning,” Aria said finally, her voice steady. “We’ll figure out a way to keep everything moving.”
Kai nodded, leaning back as he watched the fire burn. “One step at a time.”
End of Episode 4
