The sky above Neoterra's Lower City, the largest colony on the Moon, was a web of artificial lights. In one of the poorest zones, lived Claudius Roman. Eighteen years old, with piercing blue eyes, he was smarter than most but trapped in a life that felt too small for his ambitions.
Claudius worked in a cramped underground workshop, repairing industrial drones and air filtration systems to support his ailing mother. Yet his real focus was on something far greater: getting into the Imperial Military Academy on Mars. The Academy, the most prestigious in the Solar System, trained the future leaders of the Interstellar Navy. To Claudius, it was his only path out of poverty and into the stars.
While lost in thought, a notification appeared on his old holographic terminal. His heart raced. He opened the message.
"Claudius Roman," the automated voice began. "Your application to take the Imperial Military Academy entrance exam has been accepted. The exam will be held on Phobos on October 23, 2224. Further details will follow."
He sat back, stunned. He had done it—he was one step closer. But the reality set in just as quickly: the exam was on Phobos, one of Mars' moons. Traveling there would cost more than he had. The Academy's entrance exam was notorious for breaking even the strongest candidates, but now he faced an even bigger problem. How could he get to Phobos with no money?
That evening, as he stared out of his small apartment window, his mother's voice broke the silence. "Claudius, did you hear anything today?"
He hesitated but couldn't hide his excitement. "I've been accepted to take the exam," he said quietly. "But it's on Phobos."
Her smile was brief, her face drawn with worry. "Phobos? That's far. How will you afford it?"
"I'll find a way," he said, though doubt gnawed at him. His mother's health was deteriorating, and he needed to find a solution—fast.
The next day, while working, an unexpected visitor arrived. A man in a black leather jacket stepped into the workshop, his presence unsettling. "You're Claudius Roman?"
Claudius nodded warily. "Who's asking?"
"My name's Tobias Draven. I hear you need a ride to Phobos."
Claudius stiffened. He hadn't told anyone about his dilemma. "How do you know that?"
"Word gets around," Draven replied with a sly smile. "I can get you there—if you do me a favor."
Claudius eyed him skeptically. "What kind of favor?"
"Nothing too dangerous," Draven said. "Just deliver a small package for me when you arrive. That's all."
Claudius's instincts screamed to say no. Men like Draven were known for shady dealings in Neoterra's underground. But without his help, Claudius had no chance of reaching Phobos.
"What's in the package?"
Draven's smile widened. "Don't worry about that. Just don't open it. Deliver it to my contact, and we're square."
Claudius weighed his options. He needed this chance, even if it came at a risk. After a long silence, he extended his hand. "Alright. I'll do it."
Draven shook it. "Meet me tomorrow at Hangar 17. Don't be late."
As Draven left, Claudius felt a chill. He had just made a deal that could endanger everything, but it was his only shot. Without hesitation, he returned to his work, his mind already racing toward the next challenge.
That night, staring up at the stars through the transparent dome, Claudius felt both fear and excitement. The stars had always called to him, and now, with this risky alliance, he was finally on the path to reach them.
The road to Phobos was uncertain, but Claudius Roman would not be stopped. The Empire awaited, and he was determined to carve out his place in it—whatever the cost.