"I'm sorry, Captain Caelis. But I decline your offer."
Refusal.
The word struck like a blade of ice. Even Lyra Caelis—unflinching scion of House Caelis—blinked once in disbelief.
Refuse? Her?
She hadn't heard those syllables in years, not since her ascension as commander of the Valkyrion—a prized Class-B vessel commissioned by the Dominion's eastern throne.
Wasn't that why everyone came to Lunar Port? To hitch themselves to the strongest starships, the best captains, the safest routes through the Void of Space?
Her ship was second only to military carriers. What fool would choose obscurity over a guaranteed future?
Around them, the deck hushed again. A tide of silent awe gave way to confused whispers.
"Did he just… say no?"
"He turned down a Class-B commission?!"
"I'd scrub her hull with a toothbrush just to get on board."
Lyra's voice was steady, but colder now. "I would like to know your reason, Mr. Vire."
Silas Vire ran a hand down the side of his face, his expression mild.
"I have my own ship," he said simply.
A beat passed. Two. Then three.
Then laughter—sharp, unkind, and very public.
From behind the crowd stepped Hayden Marr, captain of the Ashward, a battered Class-D freighter tricked out with blood money and borrowed upgrades. He wore the faux-noble swagger of a man who had just enough money to be smug, and just enough inferiority to make it cruel.
"Did you hear that?" Hayden barked. "He says he has his own ship! What is it, lad? A Class-F tug made from shuttle scrap?"
The audience chuckled, encouraged by his mockery. Even Lyra frowned. It wasn't disdain—more like confusion.
Silas had always been modest at Starborne Academy. Never flaunting wealth, always dressed in synthetic grays, a man more known for vanishing into the archives than attending gala duels. No one had ever seen him operate a private vessel.
Where would he even get the funds?
Buying a registered starship during one's academy years was unheard of unless you bore the insignia of a noble house or tech conglomerate.
Hayden stepped closer, arms spread wide. "Come now, Captain Vire," he sneered. "If you're going to lie, at least point to a ship on the tarmac. This is Lunar Port, lad. Every launch-ready vessel is docked here, plain as sight. Where's your so called ship?"
The crowd turned hungry now, sniffing for spectacle. Even the drones recording crew credentials turned their lenses toward the confrontation.
Unbothered, Silas tapped the face of his techband. The surface shimmered as his system interface lit up with clean, monolithic glyphs:
[Name: Silas Vire]
[Origin: Terran Descent – Sol Subspecies]
[Ether Integrity: 100/100]
[Attributes:]
– Strength: 12
– Endurance: 10
– Intellect: 20
[Certified Skills:]
– Class-A Starship Navigation Protocol
– Class-A Engineering & Maintenance Certification
– Class-A Combat Systems Certification
[Ship Registry: S-Class Void Cruiser — Hyperion]
Hayden scoffed. "Sure. And I'm the Emperor of the Fractured Belt."
But Silas ignored him. Instead, he issued a silent command:
"System, status of the Hyperion?"
A mechanical voice, calm and ancient, answered in his mind.
[Status: Hyperion deployed in Sol No-Man's Expanse.]
[Phase Transition in progress. Estimated arrival at Lunar Port: T-minus 5 minutes.]
Perfect.
Five minutes gave the system enough time to anchor the cruiser's emergence without drawing the attention of the Solar Ascendancy—the ancient ruling order of the inner system. The Ascendancy didn't take kindly to rogue ship manifests—especially not those of S-Class origin.
Hayden smirked when Silas didn't immediately answer. "What's the matter? Starship stuck in traffic? Or maybe it's invisible?"
Even Lyra turned away now. There was no point wasting time with children playing captain. She exhaled sharply and pivoted, her boots echoing across the alloy platform. "Very well. Suit yourself."
As she departed, she cast one final glance over her shoulder at Silas. Something about his calm bothered her. It wasn't arrogance. It was worse.
Conviction.
"Pathetic," Hayden spat. "You're a joke, Vire. Starships aren't dreams you whisper to yourself—they're reality. And in reality, poor boys like you stay tethered to gravity wells."
He sneered. "If you ever did get a ship, it'd be stripped bare by the first pirate drone that caught your ping."
And then it happened.
The alert klaxons sounded—three sharp pulses that echoed like a storm breaking through steel.
[⚠ WARNING: S-Class Vessel Detected Approaching Lunar Port.]
[⚠ All vessels clear external lanes. Repeat: ALL VESSELS CLEAR.]
[⚠ This is not a drill.]
The deck froze. Even the engineers stopped mid-fuel transfer. A red glow bathed the ceiling as arc-lamps focused toward the eastern void gate.
An S-Class ship?
In Lunar Port?
There were less than six active S-Class vessels in the entire system. Most were fleet flagships operated by the Ascendancy or Planet Lords. The resources required to even activate one were titanic.
No one in their right mind would bring one here.
Everyone turned.
The veil of space rippled like water. From the bend in the void, something emerged—massive, angular, ancient. Its silhouette blotted out starlight as if the stars feared it.
The Hyperion.
Its hull was obsidian alloy veined with auric circuits. Towering dorsal spires pulsed with quiet power. Its ion drives thrummed with low thunder, and its hull bore sigils from a forgotten age—runes older than Terran scripture.
Compared to it, even the Valkyrion looked like a child's toy.
Text scrolled across Silas's interface.
[S-Class Void Cruiser — Hyperion has arrived.]
[Crew Manifest Auto-Generated: 1,000 Marvin-class Synthetic Units.]
[Systems Online. Awaiting Command Input.]
Lyra Caelis stared, stunned.
That's his ship?
Her Valkyrion, pride of House Caelis, now looked... quaint. Diminished.
Silas turned to Hayden, voice steady.
"My ship has arrived," he said simply. "Anything else you wanted to say?"
The crowd fell utterly silent.
No one dared breathe.
And then, like iron dust drawn to a magnetic truth, all eyes locked on Silas Vire—no longer the quiet graduate.
Now, Captain of the Hyperion.