The cockpit of the Obsidian Wraith was bathed in quiet light, the stars of the Ashen Sector drifting slowly past beyond the reinforced viewport. Ethan sat back in his pilot's chair, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting on the armrests with that easy confidence of someone who had grown used to vast, unyielding silence. The hum of the ship's systems, the occasional chirp of navigational feedback, and the soft flicker of readout data were the only sounds around him.
He exhaled once, slowly, then leaned forward and gave the command.
"Iris, zoom out. Show me the galaxy."
From the center of the cockpit, just above the navigation hub, a rotating lattice of blue-white light bloomed into existence. The full three-dimensional map of the Orion Federation spun into view, expanding outward in a luminous web of stars, planetary systems, and sector boundaries. Lines of soft white, crimson, and gold shimmered as routes and borders locked into place. It was less a map and more a living sculpture, a breathing representation of the civilization Ethan had only begun to understand.
"Zoom out further," he said.
The projection obeyed, pulling back past the Ashen Sector and its neighbors. Beyond Federation space, more borders began to emerge, differently colored overlays flickered into view, marking entire galactic territories.
"Iris," Ethan said, eyes narrowing at the new lines. "What am I looking at?"
The AI's voice came smoothly over the comm. "You are now viewing the Orion Federation and its four closest galactic neighbors."
Lines adjusted, focusing the display with perfect precision.
"Begin breakdown."
"The first," Iris began, highlighting the space to the Federation's north and east, "is the Imperium Astralis. A technocratic, militarized superstate ruled by hereditary aristocracy. They specialize in quantum-engineered military star ships and psychic high command structures. Relations with the Federation remain… cautious."
A dull red hue pulsed over the sectors of the Imperium, their borders jagged like scar tissue.
"Though currently engaged in internal conflict. A civil war of succession has erupted following the death of Emperor Vestran V. Several princes and princesses, each claiming to be rightful heir, now splinter the regime's unity. As of the latest intel, the conflict is escalating."
"And they're still tense with us?" Ethan asked.
"Affirmative. The Separation War remains a core wound. Federation founder Silvan Elos Orion led the defection from the Imperium more than 400 years ago. Officially, a ceasefire holds. Unofficially, raids and sabotage continue."
Ethan grimaced. "So that's a powder keg."
"Correct."
Another region lit up to the galactic west in warm golds and deep navy.
"The Galactic Republic of Nirelen," Iris continued. "Progressive. Multi-species democracy like the Federation. Decentralized, but united by common technological treaties and security pacts. One of the largest known nations in the galaxy. They were the earliest external supporter of Silvan Orion's rebellion. Relations remain strong."
"I remember hearing they helped with early Federation infrastructure."
"Indeed," Iris confirmed. "They provided naval shielding during the Breakaway Conflicts. Their support turned the tide of independence."
Below the Federation's southern fringe, a third territory shimmered in layered teal.
"The Vandrix Stellar Alliance. A loosely connected network of trade-focused civilizations. Semi-autonomous regions with shared defense policies. Technologically diverse. Known for financial influence, not military strength."
Ethan studied the uneven clusters. "Looks like a merchant puzzle box."
"Accurate," Iris said. "Their neutrality is selective, they prefer trade to war, but take strong positions against authoritarian neighbors."
Then, at last, the most distant of the four neighbors emerged like a subtle breath of amethyst mist.
"The Shaan Gohor'eth Confederacy. Isolationist. Culturally insular. Known for their psionic traditions and ancient memory-based governance. They communicate rarely, but maintain stable diplomatic ties."
Ethan's eyes rested on the gentle shape of the Shaan zone. "Never heard of them making war."
"They do not," Iris said. "But their warriors are feared when roused. Historically, they've remained detached from galactic conflicts, preferring psychic and cultural development over expansion."
He leaned back again, absorbing it all.
"Four neighbors. Two friendly. One enigmatic. One actively bleeding."
"And all watching the same sky," Iris added gently.
He folded his arms.
"Are there others?"
"Yes," she said, "but they are distant. Separated by unclaimed space, undeveloped systems, or temporal anomalies. For now, they are irrelevant to our journey."
"Back to the Federation," Ethan muttered. "Time to think practical."
Iris obeyed.
The galaxy refocused on the Orion Federation. This time, a series of icons lit up in the core sectors, white hexagons surrounded by golden rings, each marked with Mercenary Guild sigils.
"Filtering by sector. C-Rank testing centers only."
Three primary zones glowed.
"Caryth. Talveth. Solmere," Iris said.
Each floated in a tight triangle at the Federation's heart. Caryth pulsed more brightly than the others.
"Caryth Sector," Iris elaborated, "is the closest. Renowned for elite trials, fair administrative process, and clean infrastructure. Guild Branch designated Tier-One."
"Travel time?"
"With optimal relays, four months. Including mid-sector FTL intervals."
Ethan nodded, making his decision.
"Caryth it is."
The galaxy faded. In its place, glowing rings of ancient silver began to emerge, one by one, scattered like holy sites across the stars.
"These," Iris said with what almost sounded like reverence, "are the Galactic Relays."
Ethan had heard of them, everyone preparaing for interstellar travel had. But seeing them rendered this close, in such detail, was something else entirely.
Each was a kilometer-wide torus of gleaming alloy, slowly rotating in the dark. Arcane energy signatures pulsed from within their cores, like artificial starlight caught in orbit.
"They predate the Federation," Iris explained. "No civilization alive can fully replicate them. We maintain them. We do not completely understand them yet but breakthroughs have been made."
Ethan felt a strange chill run up his spine.
"They're stationed at the heart of every sector in each galactic nation and beyond," she continued. "Linked through invisible subspace tunnels. When aligned correctly, a vessel may transit between them in seconds, leaping across hundreds of light-years."
"How often are they used?"
"Constantly, They are essential for interstellar trade, civilian and miltary movement. " she said. "But only with authorization. The Relay Network in Orion is maintained by Federation Fleet Command. Each jump requires clearance. Unauthorized access is a felony. Criminal factions rarely succeed in infiltration, and when they do, they are hunted."
"And our route?" Ethan asked.
Iris adjusted the view again. A glowing line stitched itself across the galaxy like an interstellar path drawn by an unseen hand.
"Ashen → Beltrax → Aldaron → Enover → Haltris → Caryth."
Five jumps. Five sectors. One destination.
"In-between," Iris said, "we must use standard FTL to reach the next relay."
Ethan ran a hand through his hair. "So that's five high-clearance jumps, four FTL stints… and we've got what, four months?"
"Approximately one hundred twelve standard days, with four relay stops and twenty-eight FTL window breaks," she confirmed.
"And no galactic net in FTL like always."
"Correct. You'll be offline for most intervals."
The galactic map shifted once more.
Now it showed the path as a constellation, Ashen Sector fading behind, Caryth glowing ahead like a sunrise waiting past the void.
The projected route shimmered with delicate markers: fueling points, relay gates shaped like rings of moonlight.
Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring into that stretch of cosmic possibility.
"Four months in space…" he murmured. "I would've never thought I would experience this back on Earth. At least it will be way more comfortable here on my Obsidian Wraith than what the astronauts experienced back in my world."
He smiled faintly.
"Plot the course, Iris."
"Course confirmed," she said. "Initiating nav-link to Ashen Relay Hub 7. Estimated time to first jump: 39 hours."
The stars outside seemed to flicker in response.
The galaxy had opened. Ethan Walker was moving again.
And somewhere, far ahead, a new trial waited.