now aeron is a cargo ship operator who go with the mining team and they collect minerals and ore from the asteroid and destroyed planets.
There is a mini cargo ship squatted on the landing platform like a tired beast.
It wasn't pretty.
Flat, armored belly. Thick engines bolted on like afterthoughts. Scratches everywhere—some from debris, some from bad pilots, some from things no one liked to talk about.
Aeron ran his hand along the hull as he climbed in and entered the cockpit.
"good Morning ," he said to his cargo ship and adjusted the seatbelt in the cockpit.
The cockpit smelled like oil and metal and recycled air. Familiar. Comforting, in a way. He strapped in, checked the displays, fingers moving with practiced ease.
He hadn't always been a driver.
He'd been a porter.
A loader.
A cleaner.
A guard's errand boy.
He'd been fired. Quit. Walked out. Been chased off once.
But driving stuck.
Because machines made sense to him .
if he Pull's the lever, it runs .and if he Ignorer's the maintenance it breaks. Treat it right, and it carries you where you need to go.
aero started the ship
The ship hummed to life.
Aeron made a take off from the platform, lifting slowly as the weight of ore settled beneath him. Raw materials from the frontier mines—dull, heavy, valuable. This is a kind of cargo that kept cities alive and wars possible.
He flew.
Through broken skies patched with old satellites and newer routes. Past skeletal megastructures left unfinished when the world burned itself half-dead. Past patrols that scanned him, tagged his ship, and waved him through.
He followed the path.