A man in his late twenties opened hi
s eyes as he yawned and stretched.
He got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom inside the room.
An automated voice echoed throughout the room
[It is seven o'clock in the morning, Earth time.]
The man paid no attention to the voice and continued toward the bathroom.
The door opened, and the lights came on automatically. He turned on the faucet and began to wash his face before wiping it dry and looking at himself in the mirror.
He had shoulder-length black hair, piercing blue eyes, and fair Caucasian skin. His looks were strikingly handsome.
His bare upper body revealed a strong, well-toned build with several scars on his chest, abdomen, shoulders, and back—especially three burn marks that looked like bullet or plasma shots in the center of his back.
He left the room without saying a word and approached a small console, pressing one of the buttons on it.
The curtains began to rise, revealing the vast expanse of space. The man looked out from the window of his room at the star-lit darkness.
The room tilted slightly to the side, but the man didn't move an inch. The scene expanded to reveal a massive spaceship floating and tilting in the vast space. It was painted red with a large name printed in black: ZEBRA.
The man stepped out of his room wearing a black shirt and finally spoke in a calm voice while walking through the ship's corridors
"Zebra, what do we have today?"
Unexpectedly, no human voice replied, but rather a mechanical one echoed around the room
[You have received a message in your personal inbox.]
Zebra was the ship's artificial intelligence—or rather, the ship itself.
The blue-eyed man raised an eyebrow.
"A message? In my personal inbox? From who?"
He had every reason to be surprised. Given his profession, he only shared his personal inbox with a very select few—those he could count on one hand.
[It's from Kryle.]
The man was stunned. Kryle had been his teammate in many joint missions with his old crew, but he'd vanished years ago. Though he never really liked him, he owed him a favor.
"Show me."
As soon as he said that, he sat in a medium-sized room on a chair facing the vast space and the ship's control wheel—it was the control room, the ship's bridge.
A hologram appeared before him, taking the form of a humanoid creature with an ant-like head, four arms each with three long sharp fingers, and legs bent backward at the knee.
The creature wore a black armored suit and had a weapon tucked under its left armpit.
The hologram spoke [Brian, my dear friend and the best space mercenary—I remember that favor I owed you. I think it's time I repaid it. Meet me on the small planet Timara, at the Anchor Tavern.]
The message ended, and Brian furrowed his brows. He didn't like this.
He hated being owed favors. People always tried to use that to their advantage. And he couldn't even refuse—after all, he was a space mercenary. He took jobs from the highest bidder, and his word built his reputation, which brought more jobs.
Brian stood from the captain's chair and walked to a side room resembling a high-tech kitchen.
He prepared a quick breakfast and didn't waste much time before eating and finishing it.
"Zebra, set course for the small planet Timara."
[Yes, Captain.]
Brian felt a sharp headache, and his eyes glowed golden as the wristwatch he wore began to ring.
[Energy levels unstable, Captain. Would you like me to prepare the treatment capsule before arrival at planet Timara? Estimated travel time is 11 hours at light speed.]
Brian nodded while holding his head with his left hand.
"First, add this to the review file for later."
[Noted. Now preparing the treatment capsule.]
Brian walked toward a white-doored room and placed his hand on the scanner at the side. The door slid open.
Inside, nine capsules stood—eight inactive, and one glowing. Brian stepped into the lit one.
The capsule's glass shut, and Brian drifted into a deep sleep as the interior filled with mist.
A wall-mounted tablet next to the capsule displayed quick readings, showing rising energy levels.
The screen shifted to show two panels—one for the ship's engines and another for its batteries and power core.
Gradually, the batteries' energy levels rose while Brian's fluctuated, rising and dropping.
The ship was being recharged by harvesting energy from Brian's body.
This process continued for about four hours until both energy levels stabilized at identical percentages.
[Absorption and regeneration complete. Calculating time until next required energy draw...]
[One year, one month, five days, four hours, twenty-four minutes, and five seconds... Estimate may vary depending on resistance.]
[Captain will now be placed in restorative stasis. Set duration]
[7 hours]
.
.
To be continued in the next chapter...
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Author's Note:
Hello dear readers,
For a long time, I suffered from writer's block. I didn't know what to do with my original story—it felt like I had completely ruined it. Because of that, I couldn't even think of starting a new one.
I lost the ability to commit to a single idea or story out of fear that I'd ruin it halfway through. That's why I turned to fanfiction for a while to clear my mind.
Out of the many ideas that came to me this morning, this simple concept stood out—one that seems expandable and holds futuristic potential.
But this time, I decided not to repeat the same mistake by overcomplicating things and rushing ahead.
I wrote the first chapter on July 5th, 2025, and from this day, the official journey of this story begins—
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. . .