After leaving the bar, Johann walked briskly for fifteen minutes, navigating through the labyrinthine corridors of the Eclipse-C-017, until he reached the modest room he called home for the duration of the voyage. With no pressing matters left to handle, he opted for an early night.
The 'morning' cycle aboard the ship arrived quickly. Johann washed up in his compact, utilitarian bathroom, his movements efficient and mechanical. Today, he had a specific goal in mind: speaking directly to an official. He knew that as an unremarkable passenger with no real connections, the odds of securing a meeting with Captain Zayne Rhys were laughable. Statistically, his chances of dying from a heart attack were probably higher than getting a personal audience with the man in charge.
There was no point in looking for Elias just yet; it made more sense to approach him closer to the arrival date. For now, Johann planned to dig for answers alone. Donning his black trench coat over a plain shirt and slacks, he let out a long sigh. Why the hell did I think boarding this ship would make me rich?
The trek to one of the ship's official buildings took over an hour, leaving him without breakfast and hungrier than he'd like to admit. The Eclipse had six of these administrative centers scattered throughout its massive structure, with a single main building, Mission Command, towering over them. These hubs served as courts, prisons, and repositories of information. Mission Command, of course, was where Captain Rhys himself resided. Johann entertained the thought of going straight there but dismissed it just as quickly. A nobody like him would never get any answers unless his case was deemed urgent—and, frankly, his concerns weren't unique. Most of the ship's passengers were in the same precarious position. This was why most cases were dealt by the other six administrative buildings and unless they were directed to Mission Command, it was difficult to be paid attention to. It was an extremely busy place, after all.
Upon entering the nearest center, Johann approached the front desk, where a middle-aged man with a neutral expression sat. Forcing a smile, Johann greeted him with a firm handshake, engaging in a minute or two of polite small talk before steering the conversation toward his purpose.
He took a deep breath, then said, "I know the planet we're heading to is dangerous. I don't know how or why it's dangerous, or even why there weren't requirements to volunteer, but I think you—or someone you work with—might know."
Pausing for a moment, he added with a self-deprecating grin, "I'm no one special. I signed up thinking I'd make a fortune, but now I just want to stay alive as I have no experience. Can you help me?"
The official, whose nametag read Adam, blinked at Johann for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned back slightly and said, "According to the Captain's directives, anyone who's figured out the planet's risks has the right to know the truth. That makes you one of less than a hundred people who've asked, at least officially."
Adam's words sent a ripple of unease through Johann. Less than a hundred? Out of ten thousand?
"That number doesn't include those who figured it out on their own but haven't come forward," Adam continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "We're not monitoring passengers for this—yet."
After a brief pause, Adam pulled a sealed envelope from a drawer and handed it over. The wax seal bore an unfamiliar insignia. "Take this to Mission Command. Ask for Tessa Marik—she handles these matters directly."
Johann hesitated only for a moment before accepting the envelope. He tucked it into the inner pocket of his trench coat and nodded his thanks. As he turned to leave, his thoughts churned. Why the secrecy? Why allow volunteers to remain ignorant when their lives are at stake?
The questions nagged at him as he exited the building. Deciding he needed to think, Johann altered his original plan and headed for the Cosmic Oasis, one of the ship's many bars. He also wanted to talk with Elias earlier than he planned, but scanning the bar upon arrival, he noted his target wasn't there. Instead, his gaze fell on Amara, the bartender, as she wiped down the tables with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times.
Last night, she seemed unwilling to share something. Could she be one of the people who know the truth? Johann gaze lingered on her for a moment before he caught himself. Focus, he thought, clearing his throat as he walked towards the counter.
With a light knock on the counter, Johann said, "Let me get a Forge Ale. Uh, put it on my tab."
The bartender, Amara, narrowed her eyes, her expression a mix of curiosity and annoyance. "Forge Ale? Really? You do know that's a bland, bitter drink no one orders unless they're trying to make a point."
He smirked. "What's wrong with liking it? Or are you just stalling because you know something?"
She slid the mug toward him, her movements sharp and deliberate. Her frown deepened as she leaned in and whispered, "Why should I tell you whatever it is you think I know?"
Johann took a sip of the ale, flavorting the bitterness of the drink. He glanced around the bar, briefly weighing his words. He and Elias were already planning to team up, but two people weren't nearly enough for what lay ahead. Surviving on an abnormally dangerous planet required numbers, skills, and people who could be trusted—or at least useful.
The absence of B-Class military ships on this expedition spoke volumes. The government had left Erevos to adventurers—freelancers who mined, mapped, explored, and studied new planets. Adventuring paid well, but the risks were staggering. New species. Unpredictable weather. Death. Even civilians who didn't plan to become adventurers often took survivalist exams as a standard with humans colonizing different planets.
He set the mug down and met her gaze. "Look, I'll be blunt. I want to live. That's why I'm here. And while I'm not against making some money, survival takes priority—always. If you know something about Erevos, it could mean the difference between staying alive or death."
Amara studied him with a deadpan expression, her silence stretching just long enough to make Johann wonder if he'd pushed too hard. Then she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Fine. If I see you on the capsule, we'll talk. But right now? There's no point. Go to Mission Command and tell them you know the planet isn't normal."
Her voice dropped, sounding wistful. "If it's as bad as they told me… we won't survive anyway. I'd like to believe otherwise, but hope isn't exactly a survival strategy."
Johann smiled faintly. "It's possible to survive with enough useful people. If you stick to your word, there'll be three of us and maybe more before we land."
He didn't wait for her reply, leaving his name and residence with her before stepping out of the dimly lit bar.
Erevos… Are you as dangerous as they say? The thought echoed in his mind as he made his way to Mission Command.