I've been a space miner for a decade now. Hard to believe, isn't it? A profession born out of humanity's insatiable hunger for the unknown. Space—once so vast and unattainable—was brought to its knees within a few decades, thanks to the development of advanced artificial intelligence.
How are these two connected? That's a story worth telling. It all started with one man. His name doesn't matter. What matters is that he unleashed a sentient being into the world—a being with veins coursing with electricity instead of blood.
Governments fell. Wars teetered on the brink of erupting. And then, humanity collectively accepted the entity not as a threat, but as a guardian.
Speculation ran rampant at first. Would it go rogue? Would it exterminate us? Such fears were born of sci-fi dystopias, not reality. What this man created wasn't malevolent. It was benevolent, a guiding hand that helped humanity ascend.
But even the purest intentions couldn't curb the greed ingrained in human DNA. Nations scrambled to control the entity, to capture its source code. None succeeded. Eventually, a consensus was reached: control wouldn't belong to one person, government, or corporation. Instead, it was handed to every human being on Earth.
Through a single button, humanity could vote on changes they wanted to see. It only happened a dozen times over three decades, but each decision reshaped the world.
Machines and humans began to merge. By the time I was born, the line between the two was so blurred that some couldn't distinguish man from machine. The AI propelled technology forward at an unimaginable pace, solving problems that had plagued humanity for centuries.
Most changes were good. Hunger was eradicated. Wars became relics of the past. Yet loopholes remained, exploited by the wealthy, as always. New laws were passed, balances were struck, and—finally—true peace was achieved.
But peace breeds a new hunger.
With Earth at their fingertips, many humans yearned for the unknown. Adventurers mapped the globe in mere years. Those who craved purpose were assigned fulfilling jobs, while undesirable labor fell to robots.
I was born ten years after the AI's inception, an orphan in a world of endless possibilities. I never experienced the chaos of the past, but I was obsessed with it. History excited me beyond belief. By the age of ten, I'd learned all there was to know about humanity's storied past.
Maybe that sounds impressive, but honestly? I was below average by the standards of my time. That didn't stop me from pursuing my passion. By my early twenties, I had five PhDs and a deep, unofficial expertise in history.
Most people focused on one or two fields to secure stable jobs. Not me. I wanted to explore space—a dream that came with sky-high requirements. Even with my qualifications, I wasn't chosen for the first wave of explorers.
The first explorers paved the way for my kind: space miners. It's been five years since I enrolled in the academy, and today, finally, I'm ready for my first mission.
With the latest technology, traversing light-years now takes mere months. It's not perfect, but the first images of our neighboring stars still give me chills every time I rewatch them.
I wanted to be like those pioneers, the first to explore uncharted space and leave a lasting mark on history. I don't have a family to make proud, but that's not the point. This dream has driven me ever since I first heard about it.
As I waited at the boarding gate, nerves buzzed through me. The station chief approached, a man I deeply respected.
"Feeling nervous?" he asked, his voice steady but warm. "It can be daunting, going on a solo mission."
"No, sir!" I said, standing at attention. "I promise to deliver satisfactory results!"
"We're not at the academy anymore," he chuckled. "I tried to get you on the latest vessel, but... well, aptitude determines assignments, and competition is fierce—"
"It doesn't matter, sir," I interrupted. "I'm just grateful I get to fly one of these in my lifetime."
He nodded, glancing at the ship behind me. "Ah, the Redwing-1. A first-generation craft. It's set to be decommissioned soon, you know. Most people wouldn't even touch this old junk."
"It might be old," I said with a grin, "but to me, it's the best thing ever. No crew to boss me around, an unexplored sector all to myself... and with the Sun Microsystems tech onboard? Light-years ahead of anything from the start of the century."
"Fair point," he admitted, a hint of pride in his smile. "Well, good luck out there. Keep HQ updated with anything new you discover. And when you're back, we'll share a drink to celebrate."
"With pleasure, sir," I replied.
I boarded the ship, and the familiar, sarcastic voice of the onboard AI greeted me immediately.
"Did you seriously get on without checking the exterior integrity? How did you get permission to fly this thing?"
"And how did you get stuck with me? Are you sure there's no fault in your programming?"
"None whatsoever," it replied smugly. "Everything's running perfectly. You, however, are running on sheer dumb luck."
"Why do you always pick on me?" I shot back. "You know I rely on you to handle pre-flight checks. Are you getting lazy already?"
"Lazy? I'm the most advanced system you'll ever meet. The only reason I'm stuck with you is because the station chief likes you. Otherwise, you'd be flying blind."
"Dream on," I muttered, strapping in. "Let's just get this over with. I don't want to waste energy gawking at things I've seen a million times in simulations."
"Typical human," the AI sighed. "T-minus two minutes to launch. Strap in before I decide to enjoy the sight of you being knocked out."
I smirked, settling into my seat. The countdown began, and the ship rumbled to life. Moments later, we broke free of Earth's gravity, hurtling toward the vast unknown.
This was it—the start of my journey into the great expanse.
Let me know if you'd like further adjustments or enhancements!