Chapter 32 - Hope by Firelight

The probe was officially on its way back towards Earth, doing its thing.

“Alright, now what?” Luca said, still catching his breath from carrying Emily down from the observation lounge and trying to inject a bit of levity into the room. “Anyone hungry?” Honestly, he tuned out most of the tech talk.

Ryan and Danny were chattering like chipmunks, heads buried in screens, probably having some nerd party only they understood. He just focused on the screen, the one showing Alpha Centauri, all shiny and new. Danny and Ryan had whipped up some CGI version of the system, and it looked pretty damn cool.

Joey perked up from his chair, smoothing down his dress uniform jacket. “You know what? I could go for some comfort food right about now. Chicken wings sound good to anyone?”

Everyone said yes at once, and Joey grinned. “Alright, I’ll put them in the oven,” he said, heading for the door.

“Wait, what?” Emily shot up straight, her eyes wide. “Joey, you can’t bring food into the lounge!”

Zoe gasped dramatically, hand flying to her chest. “The lounge is sacred! It’s our sanctuary!” She looked genuinely horrified. “And we’re still in our dress uniforms! You know the rules: loungewear only in the lounge!”

“Come on, guys,” Joey said, pausing at the door. “It’s just wings. I’ll be careful.”

“Just wings?” Emily’s voice climbed an octave. “Joey, those things are basically sauce bombs waiting to happen!”

Luca held up a hand, fighting a grin. “Okay, okay. Executive decision.” He looked between Emily and Zoe’s panicked faces. “Tonight is a special circumstance.”

Emily squinted her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “That’s what you said yesterday with the pizza!”

“You’re right, Em,” Luca said, raising both hands in surrender. “Absolutely. But tonight’s extra special. We just discovered a potentially habitable planet. I think we can bend the lounge rules this once.”

Emily’s squint intensified. “This is the last time, Luca. I mean it. Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise,” Luca muttered.

Emily’s squint sharpened, and she stepped closer, pointing a finger at his chest. “If I catch a single drop of sauce on my carpet, I will personally oversee you cleaning this entire lounge. Every. Single. Surface.”

His throat clicked. Emily in full supervisor mode was intimidating, attractive, too, but that was a private observation. “Deal,” he said quickly. “But that means you have to trust me to keep everyone in line.”

“Oh, I’ll be watching,” Emily said. She pointed at Joey, then swept her finger around the room, in particular pointing at Ryan and Danny. “If anyone, and I mean anyone, gets even a drop of sauce on those leather couches, you’re all on cleaning duty for a week. And I’m talking deep cleaning!”

“Deal,” Joey said, already halfway out the door before the girls could mount further protests.

Danny and Ryan had quietly excused themselves, their heads close together, and they were talking in hushed tones as they made their way towards the door. They looked like kids sneaking out of class.

“Are those actual asteroids?” Zoe squinted at the display. “They’re so, like, organized.” She tilted her head like they might be movie props.

Chris was practically preening. “Yep,” he said, sounding like he’d personally sculpted each rock in orbit. Apparently, their fancy telescope satellite was printing out data faster than they could process it.

Joey pushed back through the door, buzzing, and headed straight for the display. “Think of the resources. Metals, rare minerals. The asteroid belt alone could fund the next ten missions.” He was already running the numbers; Luca could see it on his face. Okay, fine, Luca had thought about that too. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash; if anything, they were drowning under a mountain of debt. A big score out here could change everything. It’s not like they were here on some pleasure cruise.

Emily had calmed down a bit and was more on his wavelength. She leaned closer, her hand brushing against his as she pointed at the screen. “I want to know if there’s life,” she announced, eyes all lit up. “Intelligent life, preferably. Not just some space mold.”

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” Luca said, feeling the same rush of possibility. To find something else, something… more. It was a wild thought, and he liked it. He glanced over at her, and yeah, that intensity was kind of... distracting, but in a good way.

The others were buzzing, talking about tech and resources and the freaking wonder of it all. Luca was right there with them, maybe for the first time, taking it all in. They were actually doing this. It was ridiculous and amazing.

The door slid open and Danny busted in, looking like he’d just won the lottery, PAC waving around like a flag. “Hey guys, we just got the latest readings from the telescope. You’ve gotta see this.”

Everyone shut up. Something in Danny’s voice made everyone stop mid-conversation. Emily straightened up beside Luca.

“What is it?” Luca asked, though part of him already knew. Danny’s hands were shaking slightly as he connected his PAC to the main display, and Ryan had gone completely still behind him; this wasn’t just another asteroid or data point.

The main screen lit up, and Luca forgot what he was chewing.

There it was, an actual telescope image of a world orbiting another star. The planet hung in the darkness of space, its surface swirled with white clouds that caught and reflected the light of Proxima Centauri. A ring system encircled it, barely visible but real.

“Jesus Christ.” Chris’s camera hung forgotten in his hands.

“The readings are off the charts,” Ryan said slowly, the words coming out careful. “Atmospheric composition, magnetic field, surface temperature ranges... guys, this isn’t just potentially habitable.” He paused. “This thing could actually support human life.”

Emily grabbed his arm, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks. “My God.” She didn’t look away from the screen. “We’re actually looking at it. We’re looking at another world.”

The magnitude of it locked him in place. Every person who’d ever looked up at the night sky and wondered had been aiming at this. It all led here, to this room, to them, sitting in a lounge light-years from home.

“I’m calling it New Dawn,” Ryan said quietly. The name New Dawn settled over the room. He hadn’t felt this way in years. Hope, the real kind, the kind he’d had as a kid staring at the sky.

“New Dawn,” Zoe repeated, her voice small with wonder. “We’re really going there, aren’t we?”

Luca looked around the room. A handful of people in dress uniforms, still waiting on wings, about to change everything. It was almost funny.

“Yeah,” he said, not trying to hide it. “We’re really going there.”

By the time the wings were ready, the excitement had settled. The crew dropped into their usual spots, decompressing after the day’s revelations. The space felt like a pocket of Earth in the vast emptiness, red leather couches arranged around the electric fireplace, its flames dancing in a convincing imitation of warmth. On the far wall, the viewport stretched wide, starlight spilling in across the floor.

Joey emerged from the galley carrying two platters of wings, and Luca’s stomach growled before he’d even rounded the corner. “Hot wings, coming through!” He set them down on the coffee table between the couches. “Got some ranch and blue cheese too, for the civilized among us.”

“You’re a saint, Joey,” Emily said, already reaching for a wing. She’d loosened her dress uniform jacket and kicked off her shoes, curling up on the main sofa.

Luca settled beside her, close enough that their knees brushed when he leaned forward to grab food. “This is what I’m talking about,” he said, gesturing around the room with a wing. “All the fancy tech in the world, but sometimes you just need good food and good company.”

Danny and Ryan had claimed spots on the smaller couch, their PAC displays dark as they dove into the wings. But Zoe had somehow ended up on the floor between Danny’s legs, leaning back against his shins like he was furniture. She’d grabbed a wing in each hand and looked perfectly at home there.

Ryan gestured at the open cushion beside him. “There’s a whole luxury suite right here, Zoe. Just say the word.”

“I’m good,” she said, tipping her head back against Danny’s knee to grin up at him. “Danny’s warm.”

Danny went red to his ears. “I... yeah. Body heat. It’s a... physics thing.”

Zoe patted his calf without looking. “Sure it is.”

Nobody had touched the pool table in weeks, which was a crime. The bookshelf had everything from Ryan’s engineering manuals to whatever trashy paperbacks Joey had smuggled aboard. One of the wall-mounted TVs played some old comedy on mute, courtesy of Joey, the faces moving through their routines against the backdrop of stars outside.

“It’s weird knowing that in eight or nine days we might actually be there, seeing New Dawn up close,” Zoe said, sauce on her chin.

Chris had his camera out again, panning slowly across the room. He caught Luca’s look and shrugged. “Someday people are going to want to know what this looked like the night before everything changed.” He said it casually, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Think it’ll look anything like the projections?” Emily asked. She’d shifted closer to Luca on the sofa, her shoulder pressed against his arm.

Luca watched her profile in the firelight, the way her eyes caught the glow. “We’ll know soon enough,” he said, then smiled. “But I hope it’s even better than what we’re imagining.”

She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at him. “Do you miss it? Home, I mean.”

“Home’s not really a place,” he said, the truth of it startling him. Without really thinking about it, he’d stretched his arm along the back of the sofa behind her. “It’s... I don’t know. The people, I guess.”

Emily shifted slightly, leaning into the warmth of his side. Her head settled against his shoulder, and his arm came down around her without hesitation. Some things never changed, thank god. She smelled like shampoo and fake woodsmoke and wings, which shouldn’t have worked but did.

“Look at you two,” Zoe called out from her spot on the floor, gesturing toward Luca and Emily with a wing. “Already making yourselves at home.”

Luca rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. His hand landed on Emily’s shoulder, thumb tracing circles against the fabric of her uniform. She made a soft, contented sound that only he could hear.

“Captain’s found his co-pilot,” Ryan said, stretching his arms behind his head.

“Executive Officer,” Emily corrected with a sleepy smile, not bothering to move away from Luca’s warmth. She’d earned that title, had been the obvious choice since day one. Hell, she probably should have been captain, but she’d never wanted the responsibility.

“Same thing,” Danny said, then immediately went pink when everyone looked at him. Zoe had hooked her arm around his calf like it belonged to her, and the guy had clearly lost the ability to form sentences. “I mean... you know... complementary skill sets and all that.”

Joey snorted from his chair. “Smooth, Danny.”

The electric fireplace crackled softly, mixing with the hum of the ship’s systems. Outside the viewport, the stars held their positions, and somewhere in that field of light was New Dawn.

Emily’s breathing slowed, and Luca realized she was drifting off against his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, so quick and natural that he almost didn’t realize he’d done it until he caught Zoe’s knowing smile.

“Long day,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

With Emily tucked into his side, Luca felt her smile against his shoulder.

Captain’s Log

The communication probe launched successfully at 2147 hours, carrying our initial findings and those ridiculous PR messages back to Earth.

There’s a strange kind of peace in that, knowing some version of us is already on its way home.

Danny and Ryan’s latest analysis confirms what we were starting to hope: Proxima b might be habitable. The atmospheric data, magnetic shielding, and orbital stability all look promising.

Really promising.

But it’s still too early to call it with certainty.

We’re eight days out from Proxima b. We’re calling it New Dawn. I like the name. It feels right, for the planet and for us. For everything we’re trying to do out here.

The crew’s adjusting. Laughing more. Worrying less. This ship doesn’t feel like a job anymore; it feels like home. Like something worth protecting.

Emily fell asleep against my shoulder tonight in the lounge, right there in front of everyone, and I realized something that probably should have been obvious months ago. This isn’t just about the mission anymore. It’s about the people who make it worth doing.

Tomorrow we begin final approach preparations. In eight days, we’ll know for sure what’s waiting for us down there.

Personal Note:

Dad always said the best crews weren’t the ones who followed orders, but the ones who believed in something bigger than themselves.

Maybe that’s what this is.