No matter how many years, or how many adventures Vindril had been in his twenty-four years of age, eighteen of them spent serving on board from ship to ship, there was nothing that managed to elate his mind and spirit as letting himself float inside a zero G chamber.

Inside that small enclosure, even the shittiest days could became much better in a matter of seconds. They couldn't outright change, of course. Once something important enough had happened to ruin his day, there was no way to turn back completely. In that case, he just had to power though all the bullshit that was thrown at him, trying his very best to ignore further potential trouble. Easier said than done.

Fortunately, the day had started in the best way possible. After months and months of constant work that had took him across the stars to deliver all the possible goods he was allowed to handle (he didn't have the necessary licenses to handle dangerous materials, or anything even close to that), he had finally raised enough money to buy a brand-new frigate. Sure, he could have bought a used one with way less investment. There was in fact, just a few miles away from the small dome he called home, a market that specialized in those kinds of things. Problem was that the vast majority of those were utterly useless to him.

He needed a fully equipped frigate, with long range missiles and short-range armaments that was capable of both interstellar and local travel. If it had some accommodations that would make his life easier, all the better. But that, of course, was not all. While he could earn some money fighting in his frigate, options for a newcomer like him were much limited.

Mercenary work was strictly regulated by the Guild, so it would either take achievements or some great luck to access the contracts that paid well. Usually those were only accessible after years of contributions doing some of the lowest paying jobs, the ones no one wanted to do except the newcomers.

There was of course the option of going Freelancer, but that had some great difficulties in its own.

So what the hell was he supposed to do? Give up now, after all the trouble he went through to get there? No way in hell.

Fortunately, luck had been on his side for once. The Imperial Navy's station on Keelo Prime, the planet he was currently in, was looking to hire some freelancers for a job at the Academy. Now that was strange.

The Academy on Keelo Prime wasn't certainly the best in the galaxy. No way near it. But the quality of the formation that was offered inside that building was certainly up to the rigorous standards of the Navy. Needless to say, that was very much expensive. That's why Vindril was sceptical. Why would an Academy like that need freelancers to begin with? He was sure that with all its members they had enough strength to face almost anything that might have come their way. And the Navy sure watched over it. So what was going on?

Vindril shrugged as his feet touched the dusty floor of his house. In all honesty, it was already half a miracle that he even had a front door at that point. With no one to help him out, aside the occasional help he got from friends, all his money had been saved to buy his dream of adventure and freedom from those sandy confines.

Artrix, the small red sun of the Veria System, of which Keelo Prime was the fifth planet in order of distance, was already up in the sky. It's warm light, which shined for fifteen of the twenty-three hours of its full rotation period, was hitting him right in the face, peeking behind the tattered and time worn curtains he had purchased at the flea market held once a month.

It wasn't the type of market, or business deal for the fussier, that was neither strictly regulated by the authorities, nor strictly legal. Sure, it did take place in the open, where everyone could see the merchandise available for purchase. But reality was something else. That was just a cover for contraband and shady deals.

Vindril knew that damned well. The giant contribution he had received on his Starnet account after doing some shady work for some less then reputable people spoke louder than words.

It wasn't like he had a choice. If he had sticked to regular paying jobs, that weren't looking forward to sponsor some possible future competition, it would have taken him way more time than that to reach the right sum he needed. Now, there were other options to receive some more fundings, but he had always despised all of them. It was his mindset to never ask for a lease or a loan, even if it meant giving up on something he strongly desired. It was just simpler that way.

But now he could put all that thinking behind him. Now his life could really change for the better.

A smile appeared on his face, plastered beside the long brown hair that reached till his well-developed shoulders. Even if the sun had risen not too long ago, and he had just woken up, he could barely contain his excitement. In all honesty, he felt like that was going to the best day of his life. Maybe the first time he had ever set foot inside a space ship could topple it off, but he had doubts.

Eventually, he got up. His toned body, that had well developed muscles, was the byproduct of a good, healthy diet and a meticulous training regimen he followed religiously, taking only a few days off. Still, even his muscles had no choice but to ache given the sorry condition his bed was in, which seemed to belong to the dumpsters than an actual bedroom. Thankfully the mattress was in better condition, or he would have surely damaged his body beyond repair. Only a few springs were poking out of it. 

After a little bit of stretching, he quickly undressed and went into to the bathroom to take a warm shower. It was the only room in that house that was in mint condition. Obviously, it was only thanks to his efforts. The previous occupant had in fact taken every single thing that could have been taken, leaving behind a sorry ass exoskeleton of a building that looked absolutely dreadful.

Vindril's sore muscles relaxed, making him exhale a content sigh. It was almost heavenly, for those who believed in the afterlife, to take a shower the day after an intense workout like the one he had done the day before. The only downside was that water itself was outright expensive on Keelo Prime. Those damned regulations that the Governor, a tall echolian with greyish skin, and his entourage had enforced after the last rains had made the price skyrocket. At least that was only enforced on water that wasn't destined for consumption.

There was a time when Keelo Prime had been a beacon of hope and industry for all the new settlers that wanted to start a new life. But those times were long gone. Excessive farming had quickly devastated the parts of the planet that were suitable for cultivating any kind of crop, leaving behind a dry and dusty expanse that served as constant reminder of what greed could do. Thankfully, some minuscule portion had begun to heal over time, but it was just a shadow of what once had been.

Rains, that had once been abundant and copious, were now a rare and joyful occasion worldwide. It was for this very reason that prices had skyrockets. Of course, the sensible thing would have been to leave it all behind. Vindril could clearly still remember the mass migration that had succeeded in the following month after those regulations had been announced. The constant humming of the exo-engines of the gigantic starships that had come to offer transport was a memory he still cherished. To him, there was nothing like listening to those complex machinations work their magic.

But what about the ones who stayed behind? Well, those people where either too poor to even buy the lowest of tickets, or were so caught up in the industries that still operated on the surface that they didn't want to leave. Keelo Prime kindly offered both realities. Such a kind thing to do…

Vindril, of course, didn't belong in any of those categories. He was part of the very restricted bunch of people that travelled from spaceport to spaceport, trying to serve on any starship that allowed them to travel onboard, in the constant search of the next adventure. But that was a story for another time.

As he stepped out the shower, with his hairs dripping water on the floor, a chuckle escaped him. In his mind he was replaying fragments of all the memories of those adventures, and he had many, many more than anyone would have expected from someone so young. One time, he was hired as chef. Another he served as a mechanic. Another one as warehouseman. Or electrician. Bottom line, he was what people called a jack of all trades. Master of none though.

Little by little, all those experiences had though him something. Perhaps he could have even opened up a shop if he so desired; his knowledge and disposition to work would have made it a reality. But that thought had never, not even once, crossed his mind.

Always, even when he had escaped from the orphanage at the incredible age of seven, his head had always looked up, imagining himself crossing galaxies and stars. And now he was one step closer to that.

So closer in fact, that he could barely remain standing still with all the excitement he was feeling. It was in moments such as those that he felt alive.