Special Notes: All cover art for any story I write is stock from pixabay. Cody, Chapter 2 Cody grasped the controls of the excavator with a sense of familiarity as it detached from the ship and descended to the asteroid's surface. Each movement he made with the machine was precise, a dance of heavy metal and hydraulics against the rough terrain below. The ship wasn't originally meant for research; Cody's parents had pushed it into that role. It was meant for asteroid mining, but due to its age, it was more affordable than newer ships. The ship was self-sufficient, using its mining capabilities to gather all the resources it needed to sustain itself in space without having to dock at a Space Station. Even food was not an issue - their matter converter could turn any material into a bland protein bar. However, progress on developing the technology had stalled years ago, leaving them with only the ability to make protein bars. He had spent hours pondering on how to solve the issue with the matter converters, but he hadn't found a solution. He had hoped he could understand why they weren't working as promised when they were first introduced, but he was stumped. However, he did have one achievement under his belt - he had discovered a small tweak that increased the refinement of raw asteroid materials by 7%. He didn't fully grasp the impact of this discovery on profits for large mining corporations, but he didn't have time to find another project and submitted it to the Young Engineers Society annual competition. To his surprise, he won the prestigious Quasar Award. Although it didn't come with any monetary prize, it did guarantee him acceptance to MIT on Earth in six years. The problem was, the tuition was expensive, and Earth was twenty years away on this ship. He could reach Earth in just one year by purchasing a ticket on a hyper-speed sleep pod ship, but that cost more than what this whole ship was worth. His parents promised to find a way to afford it, but Cody knew better - the system was rigged against him. The only way to raise the funds was to do what everyone in his situation did - enlist in Fleet. Three Fleet Battleships and a Fleet Carrier had sent him an offer; they would pay his tuition and transportation in exchange for ten years of service after graduation. He would be almost forty-years old before he’d be free again. Cody set his toy dragon on the console, and shook his head. “That isn’t what we want to do, is it?” The plastic dragon stared back at him, as if to say, “I don’t think they allow dragons on Fleet ships.” The rocky terrain crunched and protested under the weight of the metallic behemoth, but Cody maneuvered through it with the ease of a knight navigating his steady steed. A sudden jolt shook the cabin, almost bouncing Cody in his seat. His hands paused, hovering above the controls, his curious brown eyes narrowing in on the problem. The tracks, those steel ribbons that carried them, were halted by something—a rock, not like the others. It had wedged itself between the metallic teeth, stubborn as a castle gate refusing to budge. "Hey now," Cody muttered to himself, "What gives?" Cody unstrapped himself from the pilot's chair. He checked the seals on his spacesuit before swinging the hatch open with a practiced ease and hopped out, descending slowly in the light gravity onto the gritty soil. His boots crunched over the alien terrain, making prints that claimed this small piece of the asteroid for every kid who ever dreamed of adventure. "Whoa," he breathed, as his gaze locked on a rock. It glowed faintly, like a firefly trapped in amber, or the last embers of a campfire telling secrets in the dark. Electricity ran through Cody's veins, not like when he touched wires without thinking, but the good kind, the kind that told him this was something special. He knelt beside the track, his shadow leaning curious over the stone. "What do we have here?" Cody grabbed the big crowbar attached to the side of the excavator. He imagined himself as a knight, one of those from his dragon and castle stories, wielding not a sword, but a tool forged from starlight and ingenuity. The rock gave way, inch by inch, as if recognizing Cody's intent. "Gotcha," Cody said, as the rock finally popped free, falling away to the ground, its glow casting over the rocky ground. Cody's eyes flickered with the reflection of its light—this was more than a new gadget coming to life; it was like a glimpse into the infinite. Lifting the rock towards the pale light that dripped from the distant sun. It was like holding a piece of the night sky, only this piece didn't twinkle like stars; it shimmered with a life of its own. The surface was smoother than anything Cody had felt before – no jagged edges or rough patches that most planetary debris had. This rock was special, a secret bound in stone. "Pretty," he whispered to himself, as if saying it louder would break the spell. The rock seemed to drink in the light, batheing his fingers in a soft glow, like the underbelly of a firefly. He turned the basketball-sized rock over in his hands, watching the colors dance across its surface. It wasn't just glowing—it was alive with movement. In his mind, he saw dragons weaving through the air, their scales catching light, leaving trails of radiance in their wake. With the reverence of a knight who had just found the Holy Grail, Cody reached into his pocket and pulled out a sample container – a tiny thing, clear as glass but strong as the hull of his ship. He set the rock down on a flat stone beside him, treating it as gently as if it were a dragon's egg about to hatch. "Sorry, gotta take a bit of you," he mumbled, almost apologetic. With tools designed for precision rather than force, he chipped away a fragment of the glowing rock. Each tap was a question, each flake falling away an answer waiting to be deciphered. The piece broke off, and he caught it before it could touch the ground, placing it carefully into the container. He snapped the lid shut, sealing the shard of mystery inside. The rest of the rock still lay there, pulsing softly, untouched by the violence of being broken. Cody scampered up the metal steps with the rock tucked under his arm and the samples tube in his pocket, his boots clanging against the grating. The excavator’s control room was actually Cody’s room on the ship. The ship consisted of five excavators that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. When all the excavators were deployed, the main bridge became the central drilling platform. It was nice to have your room with you when you went out digging, because you were always home. He deposited the big rock with his collection of other rocks and reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the container holding the new shard. It felt alive with secrets, throbbing with the heartbeat of an alien world. He popped open a compartment marked with his current coordinates and ship registration code, each label penned in meticulous handwriting—a catalog of his lonely expeditions. "Wait till Tara sees you," Cody whispered to the glowing sample. "She'll know what you are." The thought of sharing this find with Tara sent a thrill zipping through him like electricity. She was the wizard to his knight, the one who could unlock the magic within stones. He darted to the communication console, fingers flying over keys that felt too clumsy for his racing heart. "Hey Tara," he began, his voice a low buzz of excitement. "Found something weird today. Glows like a dragon. Sending you a piece—bet it's gonna blow your science socks off!" The words tumbled out like the rocks themselves, eager to reach across the void. Cody knew Tara would be hunched over her own console, green eyes sparkling with the same feverish curiosity that fueled their friendship. "Can't wait to hear what you think," he said, signing off with a grin. "Over and out." He imagined her surprise, her eagerness, as the message soared through space toward her. It was more than just a rock—it was a shared dream, a connection forged in the silence of the cosmos. Cody leaned back in his chair, small chest swelling with pride and anticipation. He had plucked a star from the sky, and together, they would unlock its mysteries. Cody's fingers danced across the console, lighting up paths for the message drone. With a gentle snap, he secured the container holding the glowing rock sample onto its underbelly. The drone, a tiny sentinel with blinking lights, hummed to life, ready to bridge the stars between him and Tara. "Fly true," he whispered, as if casting an enchantment. The drone buzzed in affirmation, a firefly gearing up for an interstellar journey. He watched through the porthole as it zipped out of the launch tube, a speck against the canvas of space, carrying his latest wonder. The sight made his heart pound in his chest. He imagined the drone as a lone dragon, brave and bright, weaving through the dark to deliver treasure. With the drone on its quest, Cody pivoted back to his realm of screens and switches. His hands roved from dial to dial, each twist ensuring the excavator purred like a contented cat. He checked the fuel gauge, the oxygen levels, the temperature—each a vital sign of the ship's health. Cody felt the thrum of engines through the soles of his boots, a reassuring song that told him all was well. "Keep going, old friend," Cody murmured to the big machine, patting a metal wall. The excavator didn't answer, but he sensed its steady reply in every silent, functioning system. It was a game they played, him and the ship: he kept it alive, and it did the same for him. He circled back to the control chair, climbing into it with a grunt. It was too big for him, but he filled it with dreams and determination. From this throne, he ruled over a kingdom of stars, plotting courses and dreaming of discoveries. Each panel and screen blinked back at him, like loyal subjects awaiting orders. The wait for Tara's analysis could stretch long, a dragon's tail of time. But Cody had patience—the kind that tick-tocked with purpose. He settled in, eyes flicking between consoles, mind wandering to what secrets the rock might reveal. Would it be a key to new knowledge, or just another pebble among galaxies? "Doesn't matter," he decided, a knight steadfast in his quest. "Every star shines, even if you can't see it." His gaze lingered on the spot where the drone had disappeared, a promise hanging in the void. The excavator hummed, and Cody, the young engineer, kept watch over his metallic domain, awaiting the return of his dragon from its flight beyond the known. Cody's fingers danced over the communication device, a silent rhythm of hope and impatience. He tapped the screen again, willing a message to appear. The excavator’s innards buzzed and hummed around him, a lullaby for the wait that stretched like endless space. "Come on, Tara," he whispered, his voice a ghost in the vastness of the control room. His brown eyes, wide with the hunger of curiosity, flicked back to the device. Empty, silent - no news from his friend. The rock's secrets taunted him, whispers of possibilities that could lift him from this life, carry him on silver wings to a new ship, a new beginning. "Maybe it's fuel, or... or a map," Cody mused, his thoughts a flock of birds soaring through the unknown. He pictured himself captain of a sleek vessel, one that glided through the cosmos without complaint, unlike the creaking giant he now called home. "Or treasure," he added, the word heavy and glittering in his mind. Days tumbled by, each as indistinct as the stars outside. Cody filled them with tasks and checks, tightening bolts and oiling gears, but his heart lived in his throat, fluttering with every glance at the silent device. Then, it happened. A chime, soft but insistent, cut through the drone of machinery. Cody lunged for the device, his hands suddenly clumsy, large in their eagerness. A message blinked up at him, a tiny sun in the gloom. "Received sample. Analysis begins now." Short, sweet, the words hit Cody like a meteor shower. His pulse thundered, a drumbeat of excitement ricocheting through his frame. "Finally," he breathed out, his eyes shining with the reflection of a future unwritten. He imagined Tara, her green eyes narrowed in concentration, unraveling the mysteries held tight within the glowing stone. "Be something big," Cody urged the universe, as if his will alone could carve destiny from the cold rock. "Please." He clutched the device close, a knight with his shield, bracing against the unknown. The toy dragons of his childhood watched from their perches, silent guardians of his dreams. They knew the score: sometimes, dragons hoarded gold, and sometimes, they just slept on stones. Cody hoped for gold, for a key to unlock the gates to a new life. "Let it be gold," he whispered, a mantra to guide the stars.