The Gravix—a state-of-the-art vessel equipped with an array of advanced sensory equipment—was not just a ship; it was an extension of Elo himself, engineered to perceive and interpret the vast cosmic landscape with almost sentient precision. It carried a suite of sensors that allowed it to probe the depths of space, seeking anomalies in the usually undisturbed tapestry of the cosmos.

  As Elo patrolled the infinite celestial frontier, the Gravix’s long-range scanners had been diligently at work. These high-frequency pulse-detection systems had been sifting through the radio noise of the universe, hunting for any signs of mechanical life amidst the background hum of stellar radiation.

  Amid this cosmic chatter, a blip caught the Gravix’s attention. It was a faint echo at first, almost drowned by the cosmic orchestra of pulsating stars and swirling nebulae. But the Gravix’s AI was tenacious, and it clung onto the echo, enhancing and amplifying it until it formed a distinct signature, standing out against the electromagnetic spectrum like a beacon in the night.

  The signature, bearing the unmistakable mark of an artificial device, corresponded to the energy output pattern of a typical escape pod’s life-support system. Elo, trusting his ship’s discerning judgment, ordered it to plot an intercept course towards the source of the signal. As they approached, the Gravix’s visual sensors came into play, drawing up the rough contours of a small, metallic object floating aimlessly in the void of space. It was Gan’s escape pod.

  As Elo maneuvered towards the derelict escape pod, his heart pounded a syncopated rhythm against his chest cavity, its beat resonating like a tribal drum in the concert of his alien surroundings. Every pulsation mirrored his rising apprehension, reverberating against the grim backdrop of the unfathomable abyss that engulfed him. The chilling silence of the cosmos swaddled him, its depth penetrated only by the mechanical purring of his spacesuit’s life-support system, a lonely overture to the sprawling cosmic orchestra. His spacecraft, the Gravix, stood vigil in the distance, its intimidating silhouette contrasting against the celestial tapestry, a protective sentinel amidst a sea of shimmering stars and nebulous clouds.

  Inching his way through the zero-gravity vacuum towards the deserted escape pod, Elo felt a wave of apprehension uncoil in his stomach. His advanced sensor array, embedded in his suit, had detected the faint residual energy signature of the pod, a spectral echo of its previous occupants. The precision of the technology allowed him to single out the pod from the infinity of space debris scattered across the cosmic landscape.

  The escape pod’s entry hatch lay ajar, like a wound ripped open in haste. Its dark void silently recited a narrative of panic-stricken flight. Elo cautiously drifted closer, the cold and harsh light of distant stars reflecting off his visor, illuminating the hollow innards of the capsule. He scrutinized the interior with an intense gaze, his infrared and optical scanners piercing the shadows, seeking any sign of the missing occupant.

  His worst fears solidified into stark reality when the scanners revealed no life signs: Gan was gone. The pod, once a bustling cache of scavenged, invaluable resources, was now gutted to its skeletal shell. What was left was nothing more than a hollow husk, stripped clean of its once vital contents. The eerie vacancy only amplified the echoes of urgency that seemed to permeate from the metallic shell, adding a deeper level of desolation to Elo’s daunting predicament. Gan’s storage array was gone as well.

  A hollow emptiness seemed to engulf him, a mirror to the barren pod before him. His breath hitched in his throat, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, every beat echoing the profound implications of the situation. A gnawing worry for what Gan might have done, coupled with the sting of the loss, tethered him to an axis of rising anxiety and despair.

  Elo’s hand closed into a fist, the cool metal of his suit pressing against his palm, grounding him amidst the spiraling thoughts. In the eerie silence of the cosmos, his breath sounded harsh and ragged, his suit’s life-support system humming a melancholy tune in resonance with his turbulent emotions. With a brisk about-face, he retreated to the familiar confines of the Gravix.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Had Gan stolen the storage array along with all of the valuable material that he had mined? Why might Gan have betrayed him like this?

  As much as he didn’t want to, Elo realized he must inform the Council of this setback. His fingers darted over the controls to bring the ship’s communication system online.

  “This is Elo, reporting to the Council,” he declared, his voice a somber blend of disappointment and apprehension. “Gan has vanished from the pod, taking the precious resources with him.”

  A harsh burst of static buzzed against his eardrum before the commanding timbre of the Council reverberated through the communication channel.

  “Elo,” the Council’s voice rolled through the comm, heavy with the weight of unspoken disappointment, “we tasked you with monitoring Gan, and now your mission is in jeopardy.”

  A harsh breath escaped Elo’s lips, his reply simmering just above a whisper. “I understand the severity of my shortcoming. I request access to Gan's tracker. It’s imperative for the mission’s recovery.”

  There was a momentary pause, a breath of silence before the Council's voice crackled through. “Access to the tracker? After your failure to supervise Gan adequately?” The skepticism in their tone was palpable, echoing the depths of their doubt.

  Elo's jaw tightened, the request already feeling like a battle. “Yes, Council. It's the most efficient way to locate him and the resources. Time is of the essence.”

  Several cold and unamused chuckles resonated over the line. “Elo, it seems your judgment is clouded. Perhaps your... affinity for Gan has compromised your objectivity.”

  The accusation stung, a sharp jab to Elo's sense of honor. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “My commitment remains unwavering, Council. My request is solely in the interest of recovering the lost materials.”

  “There was wisdom in our hesitation to assign Gan to this task,” the Council’s voice intoned, carrying an air of ‘I told you so.’ “Yet you vouched for him, Elo. This mishap falls on your shoulders.”

  Elo’s heart hammered in his chest, a relentless reminder of the gravity of the situation. “I accept full responsibility for Gan’s actions. But granting me access to the tracker is our best chance at rectifying this.”

  The Council was silent for a moment, the weight of their decision hanging in the balance. Finally, the voice returned, firmer this time. “Very well, Elo. Access to Gan’s tracker will be granted.”

  Elo bowed obsequiously. “Thank you for this indulgence!”

  “Do you recall what transpired to the last Paktu who let us down?” the Council’s question hung in the frigid air, their tone draped in ominous foreboding.

  Elo felt his throat constrict, the memory of his predecessor’s grim fate a bone-chilling reminder of his potential destiny.

  “I remember, Council,” Elo answered, a tremor of fear threading through his words. “Allow me the chance to correct this misstep. I’ll track down Gan and recover the lost materials.”

  “We shall see, Elo,” the Engaru’s response pierced the silence, his words as icy as the engulfing void. “Just ensure we don’t revisit this conversation.”

  The connection severed, abandoning Elo in the cavernous silence with nothing but his mounting fears for company. The stakes were outlined starkly. He had to find Gan and retrieve the materials. The penalty for failure was a fate he dared not contemplate.

  Elo made his way back to the nerve center of the Gravix, his fingers gliding over the console with practiced efficiency as he activated the ship’s intricate tracking systems. Whatever ship Gan had left in, Elo imagined it could not have strayed far. Time, however, was an unforgiving enemy.

  “Elo,” a soft voice permeated his concentration, prompting him to turn. It was Arigla, his reliable second-in-command. She had been a silent observer, her countenance etched with worry lines.

  “Any sign of him?” she ventured, her eyes searching his face for a glimmer of positivity.

  “No,” Elo confessed, his tone heavy with remorse. “They think that Gan has absconded with the precious materials. The Council... They’re less than pleased.”

  “Do you think that Gan betrayed you, Elo?”

  “I’m afraid he might have. Why else would he have removed the storage array?”

  Arigla’s expression wavered, the impact of his words sinking in. In Elo’s increasing anger, Arigla sensed an opportunity.

  “Elo, what’s our next move?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “We’re going to chase down Gan,” he stated, his voice resonating with newfound determination. “We’ll reclaim the materials and fulfill our duty. Failure isn’t an option.”

  Arigla’s nod was firm, resolve casting a new light on her features. “Let’s get to it then.”

  As the Gravix roared to life, embarking on a relentless pursuit, Elo couldn’t quell the gnawing sense of impending dread. The implications of their task were not lost on him—it wasn’t just his life hanging in the balance, but the fate of his entire crew. Failure was no longer a mere setback; it was a death warrant.

  you think Elo believes happened to Gan? Betrayal, miscommunication… or something bigger? Drop your theories in the comments—I’m watching ???