Chapter 2 - Getting Ready

The next four weeks were a blur of activity, and honestly? It felt like some weird space version of a home makeover show. Every day, more boxes arrived for the Triumph of Darron, and Emily and Zoe turned the bare-bones ship into something that actually felt like home. They didn’t disappoint, mattresses, tables, couches, desks, gym equipment, rugs, and all the little things I didn’t even know we needed until I saw them unpacked. Zoe found this ridiculously comfortable leather couch that somehow fit perfectly in the lounge, and Emily picked out curtains for the observation deck windows. Curtains. In space. I had to admit, it kind of worked.

Meanwhile, I’d been neck-deep in logistics with Dad and his team on the Genesis Platform, coordinating food supplies for the voyage. Sure, we had the small greenhouse for herbs and maybe some greens, but the bulk of our meals would come from frozen and pre-prepared rations. You can’t exactly live off basil and lettuce when you’re charting uncharted space.

By the end of it all, our quarters didn’t even look like part of a spaceship anymore. The cold steel walls and floors were mostly hidden under soft fabrics, wood paneled walls, and carpeted floors. My cabin now had a mattress that made me want to skip shifts just to lie on it. The whole ship felt... alive. Cozy. Like it was ours in every sense of the word.

As I stood in the lounge, looking at the ridiculous amount of effort we’d put into making this ship a home, I couldn’t help but grin. This was going to be so much fun. Sure, the whole thing had cost a small fortune, north of 550 million credits, and that didn’t even include the street value of the FTL drive, which added another 200 million if anyone felt like doing the math. But who cared? This was our dream.

Of course, none of this would’ve happened without the Interstellar Frontier Company. They’d won the Alpha Centauri survey charter from the United Earth Republic and thrown 300 million credits at us to build this ship and make the mission happen. The rest? That had come out of our savings, every credit we’d managed to scrape together. We’d spent weeks convincing Karen and Michael at IFC to back us. I mean, begging wasn’t off the table at one point.

This was their big bet on us, and if we screwed it up, the IFC would lose their investment and get their asses handed to them by the UER. No pressure, right? But if we pulled this off? We’d be rich. Like buy-your-own-space-station rich.

For now, though, I wasn’t thinking about credits or charters or all the ways this could go wrong. Standing there, surrounded by my crew, my family, it all felt worth it. Every sleepless night, every impossible negotiation, every credit we’d spent. We were ready. And as Captain, still weird, still kind of a turn-on, it was my job to make sure we didn’t screw it up.

The last thing on the never-ending list was uniforms. Uniforms. Just the word made me cringe. I wasn’t exactly the “matching outfits” type, and the idea of telling my crew what to wear felt... weird. But Dad had been insistent. “It’s about discipline, Luca. Morale. Presentation. You’ll be among other crews, miners, gas scoopers, shuttle pilots. They’ll expect it.”

So here I was, dragging Emily and Zoe to a shop called Uniforms Unlimited because, let’s face it, I figured they knew more about colors and clothes than I did. My fashion sense maxed out at “does this have holes in it?” and “is it clean enough to wear again?”

When we walked in, a middle-aged woman with purple hair and a smile like she genuinely enjoyed her job greeted us. “Athan Rossi’s son, correct?” she said, extending her hand. “I’m June. A pleasure to meet you, Luca. And you must be Emily and Zoe?”

I blushed, like, actually blushed. Why do people always know I’m Athan’s kid? “Uh, yeah. Hi, June,” I managed, shaking her hand like a nervous intern. “We’re here to, uh, get some uniforms made for our crew.”

“Excellent,” she said, leading us into her office, which looked like someone had exploded a rainbow in it. Swatches of every fabric and color imaginable covered the walls and tables. It smelled like coffee and ambition, and she wasted no time pouring us cups from the fancy machine in the corner.

“So,” June began, sliding into her chair and looking at me expectantly, “what kind of look are you going for? Professional? Casual? Camouflage, perhaps?”

I hesitated, glancing at Emily and Zoe for backup. “Uh, professional but comfortable?” I said, trying to sound like I had a plan. “We’ll be spending long hours on the ship, exploring planets. Maybe a set of uniforms for onboard tasks, something for downtime... gym clothes too, maybe? Neutral colors? Grays?”

The second I finished, Emily groaned audibly and facepalmed. Literally facepalmed. “Luca,” she said, getting up and pushing me toward the door, “we’ll take care of this, okay?”

“You sure? I was thinking maybe…”

“Nope,” Zoe cut in, joining the shoving effort. “We’ve got this. You’re off uniform duty.”

June raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop them. The girls plopped back into their seats as I stumbled out the door, still holding my untouched coffee. “Fine,” I muttered, half to myself. “Just don’t make us look like space clowns or something.”

From the hallway, I could hear Zoe’s laugh echoing. “Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll make you look good.”

And there it was again, that word, Captain. It hit me like it always did, sending a warm buzz through my chest. I shook my head, trying to clear the image of Emily and Zoe in perfectly tailored uniforms out of my mind. Focus, Luca. Let them handle it.

Still, as I walked away, I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d come up with. Hopefully not something that screamed “space janitor,” but knowing those two, they’d figure out how to make us look damn good. I just hoped they didn’t spend too much on it.

Five hours. Five damn hours since Emily and Zoe had kicked me out of Uniforms Unlimited, and I was still fuming. Not because I didn’t trust them, well, not entirely, but because sitting around while they ran the show left me feeling like a third wheel on my own ship.

I was in the command chair, fiddling with the bridge’s user interface, trying to figure out if I could customize the layout. It wasn’t going well. Every time I clicked something, another menu popped up, and none of it made sense. Why does everything in space have to be over-engineered?

When I heard the airlock hiss, I glanced up to see Emily and Zoe strolling in like they owned the place. Emily had this smug little grin on her face, and Zoe looked like she’d just pulled off the heist of the century.

“How’d it go?” I asked, spinning the chair around and leaning back like I was totally cool with being left out of the loop.

“It went great, Luca,” Zoe said, her smirk almost a challenge. “We’ve got some surprises for the whole crew, but you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Surprises?” I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure if I should be excited or terrified. Knowing Zoe, it could go either way. “Shouldn’t we try them on before we leave? Did you get everyone’s measurements?” I asked, trying to sound like a responsible Captain and not like someone secretly wondering how good everyone would look in their new uniforms. Okay, mostly wondering about Emily and Zoe.

“June will transmit the design specs over tonight,” Emily said, waving off my concern. “We’ll have them before we leave. Don’t worry.”

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Relax, Captain. We’ve got it under control.”

“Fine,” I said, because I did know better than to question them when they were in mission mode. They were a force of nature, and honestly? I wasn’t about to get in their way. Instead, I turned my attention back to the bridge, letting out a slow breath as I scanned the room.

The ship was coming together, piece by piece, and it looked spectacular. The consoles gleamed under the soft light, the viewports stretched out to reveal the endless starscape, and my command chair? Perfectly positioned. This was my domain, my sanctuary, my ship.