Zeti Reticuli Quadrant // January 14th, 086 G.C.

A flare of dazzling light streaked across the stars. The Galaxy Runner materialized from its star-jump and continued speeding towards a blue and green speckled planet.

“Titan, dead ahead,” Legart announced.

Titan was a minor planet located in the Zeti Reticuli Quadrant of the Draxus Star System. Like many planets in the early stages of space colonization, it had been terraformed to suit an affable living environment, complete with four seasons and atmospheric stability. It was three planets away from Galen’s sun and proved to be a popular destination for many colonists.

At one time Titan had been the shining jewel in the system’s crown, home to a number of the galaxy’s most distinguished ambassadors and a major tourist spot with one of the greatest spaceports ever built. Titan’s glory days had long since passed. Its largest city, Nephilim One, once a sprawling metropolis that catered to the wealthy and politically elite, had now been reduced to a dismal slum.

Titan suffered a complete turnaround, falling into a poverty stricken hellhole and often topping yearly surveys designating it ‘the most dangerous planet in the galaxy’. It became a breeding ground for criminals, bounty hunters, and space pirates. The infestation grew so bad that Titan’s notoriety spread across the cosmos, leading Galaxy Enforcement to assume the unofficial stance that ‘as long as they stay on Titan, let them do whatever they want.’ The lack of any authority transformed Titan into a lawless world where might makes right and only the strong survive.

It would be hard to pinpoint the cause of Titan’s ultimate downfall. Some would argue that it was an ill-fated series of disasters that eventually pushed the higher-classes from the planet. Others might suggest that the rich and powerful found planetary living to be rather difficult and demanding, so they moved to orbital space colonies. The space colonies were cylindrical in shape, housing massive settlements that dwarfed even the largest of planetary cities. The colonies were a marvel with countless benefits. Everything in a space colony was artificially controlled, ranging from the climate, weather fluctuations, even night and day cycles were switched at the press of a button. Not to mention that colonies never suffered from natural disasters like the ones found on many planets. There were never tornados, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, or earthquakes. The interior of the colonies resembled a planetary environment so well that many had found the transition easy.

Of course, some refused to make the change and remained on terraformed worlds, claiming that colony life was too mundane and that humanity belonged in a more ‘natural environment’. Although this was typically a financial choice more so than one of personal beliefs, as living on the space colonies were often expensive.

Legart turned to Nova. “If you want, I can take it from here.”

She nodded. Legart tapped a button on the console. The steering gear broke away from her grip and slid over into his. A rush of warm comfort swept him; it felt good to be piloting the ship again.

“The absolute capital of filth, greed, and corruption in the galaxy,” Ace said, gazing at Titan through the cockpit’s window.

An alarm buzzed overhead—Legart scrambled to kill the noise. “Son of a bitch! Looks like our stardrive’s been fried!”

Orion wasn’t surprised, in truth their stardrive had been on its last legs for some time now. “We’ll have it repaired when we get to Dirge.”

“Dirge?” Nova asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The greasiest, sleaziest parts dealer on Titan,” replied Ace, stressing his disapproval.

“But the only one who sells the reflex conductors this ship needs,” Orion added, his tone unusually grim.

Legart scoffed, glancing at a monitor that displayed all internal and external damage to the ship. “Hopefully the Galaxy Runner holds out until we get there.”

A violent tremble shook the ship, followed by a series of aggressive quakes.

A surge of fiery red energy flowed around the Galaxy Runner’s hull as it entered Titan’s atmosphere. Thermal shields moved and slid across the ship’s outer layer, securing any damaged panels or openings. The jarring effects of atmospheric reentry only lasted a few minutes. With a decline in aerodynamic heating, the Galaxy Runner descended into Titan’s blue, cloud blotched sky.

An antiquated satellite drifted in orbit above Titan. Its rusted center was spherical, framed by a wide solar-paneled wing on both sides. A lens-like eye protruded out from its globular body. The inner workings of the complex lens dilated, retracted, and spun. It watched as the Galaxy Runner disappeared beneath a patch of cloud cover. A shimmer of light emanating from the solar system’s sun washed over one of the satellite’s rectangular wings. The age-worn Galaxy Enforcement insignia gently sparkled.

Beams of golden sunlight streamed into the Galaxy Runner’s cockpit. Wisps of cloud vapor brushed by the windows. The sun had just begun its descent into the horizon. A portion of receding blue sky had been washed away with a pastel-colored mix of yellows and oranges.

The palms of Orion’s hands were enveloped with sweat. His breathing became heavier. He could feel his stomach churn. A scrambled collage of thoughts raced through his mind. Thoughts and pain. The pain was by no means physical, but an intangible agony that gnawed at his core. It was an agony that he knew all too well—and one that was always amplified by his presence on Titan.

Titan, Orion cursed the name to himself, how I despise you. If he had never returned to Titan it would still have been too soon. If only the Galaxy Runner could be repaired somewhere else, but finding people like Dirge who operated on the black market and had the equipment for starship repairs were a million to one shot.

The penetrating cavalcade of memories was too much for Orion to blot out. He sagged in his seat, leaning the back of his skull against the command chair’s neck brace. Like a tsunami that had breached the flood gates, the past came rushing back…