Chapter 2: First Flight

“You’ll get used to it,” Sona said, her silver hair swaying as she walked. Her voice was calm, almost musical. “This is just a pit stop. The real adventure starts when we’re out in the black.”

“Right,” Kenny managed. He wanted to ask a hundred questions, but his tongue felt thick.

Sona led him to a small cabin near the cargo hold. It was barely larger than a closet, with a cot, a tiny desk, and a viewport that showed the scarred hull of another ship docked nearby. “This is yours while we’re here. Rest. Training starts in four cycles. I’ll come get you.”

She lingered at the door, her eyes studying him with an intensity that made him feel seen—really seen. “Kenny... the captain doesn’t make deals lightly. He sees something in you. Trust that.”

Then she was gone, and Kenny was alone with the hum of the station and the ghosts of his memories. He lay down on the cot, staring at the ceiling. His life had flipped upside down in a single day. He closed his eyes, and again he saw the flash of a woman with gold eyes—his mother?—and the man in the lab coat—his father? They felt real, urgent, like a message he couldn’t decode.

He drifted into an uneasy sleep, but it felt like only minutes later when a sharp knock jolted him awake. Mera’s cheerful voice came through the door. “Rise and shine, little human! Time to prove you’re worth the oxygen!”

Breakfast was a slab of something that tasted like grilled chicken but had a faint purple color. Mera sat across from him in the galley, her multiple eyes blinking in a rhythmic pattern. “Food’s better on the ship,” she said, waving a spork. “But the station has these protein bricks that’ll keep you going. Now, eat up. Combat training in thirty.”

“Combat training?” Kenny’s voice cracked.

Mera grinned, showing too many teeth. “You didn’t think we’d start with math, did you?”

The training room was a large, circular chamber with padded walls and a glowing grid on the floor. Crane stood at the center, his bird-like face expressionless. He held a staff made of a dark, polished wood. Beside him, a bulky youth with gray skin and a scowl watched Kenny with open hostility. This was Dreg. His muscles bulged under a sleeveless tunic, and his fists were clenched.

“This is Dreg,” Crane said, his voice soft but carrying. “He’s also a trainee. You’ll spar together.”

Dreg snorted. “With him? He’s just a scrawny human.”

Kenny’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not scrawny. I—”

“Enough,” Crane said. “We begin with basic stances. Watch and learn.”

For the next hour, Crane put them through a series of movements—blocks, strikes, dodges. Kenny’s body remembered some of it from Earth’s self-defense classes at the orphanage, but the motions were different, more fluid, designed for bodies that moved in zero gravity. He stumbled, corrected himself, and kept going. Dreg moved with a brutal efficiency, but his form was sloppy; he relied on strength over grace.

“Now, spar,” Crane said.

Dreg attacked without waiting. He lunged, swinging a heavy fist at Kenny’s head. Kenny ducked, rolled, and came up behind him—but Dreg spun and caught him in the ribs with an elbow. Pain exploded in his side, and he gasped, stumbling back.

“Too slow,” Dreg said, smirking.

Kenny gritted his teeth. He remembered Sona’s words: He sees something in you. He had to prove it. He readied himself as Dreg charged again. This time, Kenny sidestepped at the last moment and used Dreg’s momentum to shove him into the padded wall. Dreg grunted, but recovered quickly, anger flashing in his eyes.

“You little—”

“Hold,” Crane said. “Good. Kenny, you used his strength against him. That’s a start.”

Dreg glared but backed off. As Kenny straightened, he felt a strange warmth building in his chest, spreading down his arms. His fingers tingled. He looked at his hands and saw faint golden sparks dancing between them.

“Whoa,” Mera said from the sidelines. “Did you see that?”

Kenny’s eyes widened. The sparks faded, but the warmth remained. Crane stepped closer, his head cocked. “Your sealed genes are stirring. The adrenaline triggered them. Interesting.”

“What does that mean?” Kenny asked, his voice shaky.

“It means you’re more than human,” Crane said. “But we must be careful. The wrong people might sense that power. For now, rest.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sona found him in his cabin later, her expression serious. “I felt you, Kenny. A ripple in the station’s energy. You need to be careful.”

“What am I?” he whispered.

She sat beside him on the cot. “I don’t know exactly. But I’m working on it. The station’s archives might have records of hybrid races. Give me time.”

Before he could respond, the ship’s alarms blared. A shudder ran through the deck, followed by the sound of blaster fire from the docking bay. Sona’s hand flew to the blaster on her hip. “Stay here.”

She ran out, but Kenny followed against her orders. The docking bay was chaos. Three figures in dark armor were advancing toward the ship, firing at Kranos and Mera, who were taking cover behind crates. The leader—a tall, cloaked figure with a metallic mask—pointed a device that emitted a pulsing red light.

“The boy!” the figure rasped. “Hand him over, and you live.”

Kranos fired back. “He’s part of my crew now. You want him, you go through me.”

Kenny’s blood ran cold. They were here for him. The warmth returned, stronger this time. His hands sparked, and he felt a surge of energy. Without thinking, he stepped forward and thrust his palms out. A beam of golden light shot forth, impacting the leader’s chest and sending him flying into a stack of cargo containers.

The other attackers hesitated. Dreg, who had been watching from the ship’s ramp, jumped down and slammed into one, his fist connecting with brutal force. Crane appeared from nowhere, his staff spinning, disabling the third.

Sona grabbed Kenny’s arm. “That was dangerous. You could have—”

“I know,” he said, panting. “But I couldn’t just hide.”

Kranos limped over, his green skin marred by a burn. He looked at Kenny with a new respect. “That was useful. But now they know what you are. We need to leave. Now.”

As the crew scrambled to prepare the ship for departure, Sona pulled Kenny aside. “I found something in the archives. Your mother was a Hive Queen of the Ethereal Swarm—a race that controls cosmic whales and pure energy. Your father shielded your genes to keep you safe. But there are those who hunt Hive Queens for their power. That figure was one of them.”

Kenny’s mind reeled. A Hive Queen? Cosmic whales? “And my parents?”

“Alive, I think,” Sona said softly. “But hidden. We’ll find them, Kenny. I promise.”

The ship’s engines roared. The station shrank behind them as they jumped into hyperspace, the stars streaking into lines of light. Kenny stood at the viewport in the common room, watching the universe unfold. He was no longer just a lost orphan. He was a spark waiting to ignite, and the cosmos was calling. The adventure—real, dangerous, beautiful—had just begun.

But as the ship sped into the unknown, Kenny couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed, that the cloaked figure’s words echoed in the dark between stars: “The boy... hand him over.”