Great Galactic Race - QiCon🪐HQ

THE GREAT GALACTIC RACE

Chapter 1: More Than a Checkered Flag

Calamity always seemed to find Meteor, no matter where he went. At just 19 years old, tall, deep-blue-eyed, and with a smile that made heads turn, he had the kind of charm that drew people in without effort. His athletic, olive-tanned body with “Rock”-like pectorals and a six-pack that had garnered its own admirers made him the epitome of youth and physical perfection. But Meteor didn’t quite see himself that way. His self-esteem flickered and wavered in a way that made him question everything, especially in moments of isolation when he was alone with his thoughts.

His parents, gone too soon, still weighed heavily on his heart, tucked deep into his soul like a burden he couldn’t release. Was it his fault they were gone? Did he do something wrong—something unforgivable?

It was hard being different. Meteor knew he wasn’t like the other boys, even though girls constantly swooned over him. But how he saw them… it wasn’t the same. He didn’t see them as trophies to win over. In fact, he didn’t really see anyone that way. The thoughts nagged at him in a way that felt heavier than the weight of losing his parents. Was he just wound up to tight? Shrugging off the feeling, Meteor decided to focus on something else—an old-school hover-board he had been working on. He always had a knack for tricks, and today, he was determined to nail the impossible gold medal intergalactic double-triple flip. He soared through the air, limbs spinning like clockwork, and for a brief second, he thought he had it—until he landed hard. But instead of his butt or his head, his feet hit the ground perfectly, and he straightened up with a grin, only to misstep and fall flat on his face seconds later.

“Well, that’s one way to nail it,” Meteor muttered, brushing himself off.

The oversized mirror reflected his scowl as he got up and surveyed the room, and for a second, he caught himself thinking about how he didn’t feel like he belonged. That face in the mirror… it wasn’t him. Not really. He looked like the kind of guy who should be leading the charge, dating the cheerleader, and signing autographs for fans. But none of that felt right. Shaking off the thought, Meteor turned back to his work. He stepped forward, but his foot hit something—something small, metallic. A remote control, perhaps? He bent to pick it up, but before he could grab it, a ray of light shot out of it and bounced off his 21-foot floor to ceiling mirror, then pinging from wall to wall like a laser pointer gone rogue. The ray didn’t just move randomly; it seemed almost deliberate, as if it were following a plan that had been set in motion long before he found the device. Meteor’s heart skipped a beat. The ray shot across the room and hit his dad’s old-school Apple Millennia-4, which began to beep rhythmically, almost like a countdown. Suddenly, the hover-board that had been idly floating near the wall moved toward the family portrait of his parents.

His mum and dad had been champions—heroes,—both dressed in their gamma-ray laser jujitsu-kung-fu karate environmental crusading suits, their smiles radiant as they stood side by side.

Meteor had always admired the strength of their partnership, the bond they had. But even then, deep down, he felt like he was missing something—something important. His dad’s old Apple’s beeping grew louder, then abruptly stopped. The hover-board docked into a charging port, and as it did, the portrait of his parents vanished, revealing a safe. Meteor’s pulse quickened. The Millennia-4 beeped again, and the safe door creaked open.

A small compartment slid out, revealing several pairs of Ray-Ban sunglasses. One pair hovered into the air, drawing Meteor’s attention. It floated toward him, almost beckoning him to wear it. Hesitating for only a moment, he reached out and took the glasses, slipping them onto his face. They adjusted themselves, fitting snugly around his head as though they had been designed just for him. A beam of light shot from the lenses, activating a hidden switch. The wall nearby slid open, revealing a long-hidden command center that seemed almost untouched. Meteor’s breath caught in his throat. His parents had built this. As Meteor gazed at the command center, a low hum filled the air. His dad’s old Apple Millennia-4 beeped again, this time projecting a holographic display across the room. The screen flickered and flashed, and suddenly, an old recording of his parents appeared, larger than life, in full IMAX mode.

His mother’s voice echoed through the room, as though speaking directly to him. “Meteor… if you’re seeing this, then you’ve found our secret. Your father and I… we weren’t just explorers, we were competitors in the Great Cosmic Race.”

Meteor’s heart skipped a beat. His father’s image stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with determination. “We didn’t just enter the race for the glory, son. The prize money was our way to fund critical projects for the people, to fight against the destruction caused by the president-king’s regime. The race was more than just a competition for us. It was a chance to make a difference.”

Meteor’s breath hitched as he watched his parents standing side by side, warriors in their younger days. The Great Cosmic Race… the name rang in his ears, heavy with the weight of the legacy he had never fully understood.

The holographic message continued. “If you choose to enter, know that it won’t be easy. There are forces that want to stop you. But if you succeed… you could change everything. The message flickered out, leaving Meteor standing in stunned silence.

The Ray-Bans flashed, pulling up information on the race. The countdown had already begun for the next entry cycle. The race was still ongoing… and his parents’ mission was now his to continue. Meteor’s jaw tightened with resolve. The moment was no longer about whether he wanted to follow in their footsteps—he had no choice. He had to win the race, for them, for everything they had fought for. This was their work—his legacy. He was heartbroken, still burdened by their loss, but now… now he had a mission. This was how he would honor them. He would carry on their work, fighting back against the oppressive regime that had taken everything from him. Taking a deep breath, Meteor activated the cruiser’s systems. Lights blinked on as the console came to life. He wasn’t sure if the ship had enough power to fly, but he knew he had to try. The Ray-Bans continued streaming schematics, but something felt off. His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the controls, trying to familiarize himself with the intricate technology.

Suddenly, his hand slipped, knocking over a cup of coffee. Panic set in as the liquid spread across the console. Meteor scrambled to clean it up, but the cruiser lurched upward, pinning him against the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. The vessel tilted, and Meteor tumbled down, hitting his head hard. Pain shot through him, but he shook it off with a grin.

“Yes! I got it working!” he exclaimed, despite the chaos around him.

But then the realization hit him—this wasn’t just his fight. His parents had always worked as a team, and now, more than ever, he needed one too. But who could he trust? The president-king’s forces were watching, waiting for any sign of rebellion. He couldn’t risk contacting anyone from his parents’ past, but there were people out there, people like him—people who had lost just as much. His mind raced as he pulled up government files, scanning through the secret networks. He found profiles of young prodigies—geniuses who had fallen under the radar, hidden in the shadows. There were scientists, engineers, strategists—people with the skills he needed. He scanned through them all, his eyes landing on two names: Galaxy, an AI navigation expert, and Star, a master strategist. The trio had a complicated history, to say the least. Meteor knew this wouldn’t be easy, but it was his only option. With his heart pounding in his chest, he sent encrypted messages to both of them, requesting a clandestine meeting. The wait was agonizing.

Days passed, and Meteor felt his anxiety growing with every moment of silence. Finally, the response came—a set of coordinates deep within the city’s abandoned industrial sector. His chest tightened as he gathered the necessary documents and set out into the night. As he walked the streets, the feeling of being watched gnawed at him. The president-king’s forces were everywhere. His Ray-Bans zoomed in on an incoming spy drone. Thinking quickly, Meteor dove into a pile of discarded scrap metal, sending a flock of birds scattering into the night sky. As he tried to stand, he slipped and fell into a drum of discarded oil. Wiping the mess from his clothes, he muttered under his breath, “Could have been worse… could’ve been troll poop.”

Once the coast was clear, he crept forward, glancing around cautiously. A gust of wind whipped past him, lifting a poster and revealing the secret sign he’d been searching for. The warehouse loomed ahead, dark and foreboding. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached the entrance. He paused, his hand hovering over the cold steel door. This was it—the moment that could change everything.

Pushing the door open, Meteor stepped inside. “Galaxy?” he called, his voice echoing through the empty space. “I’m here. I have what we need.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then the sound of a hover-board echoed through the shadows. A figure emerged, her face obscured by the dim light. Meteor tensed, but when she stepped closer, he recognized the blue hair and the familiar piercing gaze.

“Is that you, Meteor?” the woman asked, her voice cool and steady.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, trying to hide his nerves. He wasn’t sure why, but being around Galaxy always made him feel… unsettled.

“I’m glad you came,” Meteor said after a pause. “I… I need your help.”

Galaxy crossed her arms, giving him a hard look. “Help with what?”

With trembling hands, Meteor pulled the schematics and access codes from his jacket. “My dad left me this. It could change everything. But I can’t do it alone. I need your expertise.”

He projected the documents onto the table, and Galaxy leaned in to inspect them. Her eyes widened as she traced the intricate lines of the battle cruiser.

“This… this is incredible,” she whispered. “But it’s dangerous. If the President-King finds out, he’ll destroy it—and us.”

“Not if we enter the race,” Meteor said, his voice steady. “This is our best shot to make mega changes in our lives. Are you in?”

Galaxy didn’t say anything for a long moment, her gaze shifting from the schematics back to Meteor. Then her expression darkened, and she said, “You’ve always been good at needing people. But what happens when things go south, Meteor? How do I know you won’t run? You’ve done it before.”

The accusation hung heavy in the air, the weight of the past pressing down on both of them. Meteor knew she wasn’t wrong—he had left before. There were things he hadn’t explained, things he couldn’t. But this time, it was different. He had to make her believe that.

“I’m not the same person I was,” he said, his voice quieter. “I won’t run. Not this time.”

Galaxy studied him for what felt like an eternity before she sighed and turned her back on him, pacing across the room. “I don’t trust you,” she said finally, her voice softened but still firm. “But for some reason, I want to believe you.”

Meteor’s heart skipped. She wasn’t walking away—not yet.

“If I agree to this,” she continued, “we’re in it together. No more running. No more secrets. If you screw me over again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Meteor nodded, his throat tight. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”

Before either of them could say anything else, a sudden high-pitched whirring noise filled the room. A small, autocratic metal mouse rolled into view, its eyes flashing red. It crossed its metallic arms as if ready to deliver a royal decree.

“Why don’t you two just kiss already?” the mouse quipped, its voice filled with authority and a hint of indignation.

Meteor froze, his face reddening. “Wha—where did you come from?”

“From the abyss of tolerating this melodrama,” the metal mouse replied sharply.

“Honestly, the tension in this room is thick enough to short-circuit my circuits. Either you’re about to kiss her, or… wait, are you?”

Before Meteor could respond, a metal cat strolled in with a theatrical entrance. Its sleek frame gleamed under the dim lighting as it rushed in, chasing the tiny metal mouse. “Mouse, I’m starving! Where’s my dinner?” the cat demanded, clearly agitated.

It darted out of the cat’s reach, its tiny wheels spinning rapidly as it dodged left and right. “Dinner? You interrupted prime-time viewing for food?” the mouse snapped. “I was just about to witness the great reveal that he is—”

Before the mouse could get another word out, the cat yanked its head free and, with surprising speed, grabbed it by the tail. The mouse’s sensors blinked in panic as it swatted the cat’s nose with its tiny metal arms. “Let go of my tail, you overgrown paperweight!”

Unfazed, cat licked its metallic paw nonchalantly, still holding it by the tail. “Maybe next time, don’t keep me waiting for dinner,” the cat purred, batting the mouse around like a toy.

With an exasperated squeak, the mouse continued to smack the cat on the nose. “Ow! Stop that! I swear, if you don’t—”

The cat lost its balance, tripping over a loose wire and releasing the mouse, which rolled away quickly, grumbling. “Honestly, this place is impossible.”

And just like that, the two scurried off, their squabbling fading into the distance, leaving Meteor and Galaxy in an awkward silence.

Meteor stood frozen for a moment, the insinuation about the reveal and the chaos of the scene still ringing in his ears. He could barely look at Galaxy, knowing the mouse and the cat’s words had struck a nerve. But before he could say anything else, Galaxy cut him off.+

“Let’s stay focused,” she said firmly, turning back to the table. “Ignore them.”

Grateful for the change of topic, Meteor cleared his throat. “The hull is still intact, but the power systems are shot. We need specialized parts—some of which are nearly impossible to find on the black market. We’ll also need to upgrade the navigation systems and AI interfaces. A lot of the tech is out of date.”

Galaxy frowned as she looked over the schematics. “This is going to be tough. We’ll need to call in favors, scour the underground for parts… and that’s if we don’t get caught by the president-king’s surveillance.”

“I know,” Meteor admitted. “But I’ve been working on some contacts. There’s a guy I know—works in salvage. He might be able to get us some of what we need. But we’ll need to be discreet.”

“Discreet,” Galaxy echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Not exactly your strong suit, is it?”

Meteor smiled sheepishly. “I’ve gotten better. A little.”

Galaxy didn’t respond immediately, still scanning the holographic display with intense focus. After a long pause, she sighed. “We’re going to need Star for this. We can’t pull off something this big without her.”

Meteor hesitated. Star… Their history wasn’t exactly smooth. He had already reached out to her—something he hadn’t told Galaxy yet. But Galaxy was right—they needed her. The question wasn’t whether Star would help, but what it would cost him.

“I’ll… reach out to her,” he said, his voice faltering for just a moment. He steadied himself quickly, trying to sound more confident. “But we have to be careful. She’s still in hiding, and contacting her could draw attention.”

Galaxy eyed him suspiciously. “You hesitated,” she said, her voice sharper than before. “You already reached out, didn’t you?”

Meteor’s heart skipped a beat. He tried to keep his face neutral, but the truth hung heavy between them. He swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah… I reached out. But I wasn’t sure if she’d respond.”

The air between them seemed to thicken, the unspoken tension growing. Galaxy’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. “And you didn’t think to tell me? What if her response blows our cover? You can’t keep secrets like this, Meteor.”

“I didn’t want to complicate things,” he replied quickly, but he knew how thin his excuse sounded. “I just thought… maybe she wouldn’t want to get involved.”

Galaxy’s gaze burned into him. “Well, now we have to wait and see if she shows up—and hope she’s on our side. You can’t afford to gamble like this. Not with her.”

Meteor nodded, guilt gnawing at him. Star had responded to his message, but her answer had been vague, laced with her usual edge of unpredictability. The tension between them wasn’t just about the mission—it was personal. And he had no idea what to expect from her when she arrived.

“We don’t have a choice,” Galaxy said, her voice cold but resigned. “We need her expertise. You’ve already entered us in the race, haven’t you? There’s just something about you… it makes me boil,” Galaxy said.

Meteor’s head dropped slightly, his eyes peeking at Galaxy as he smiled and nodded, the weight of his secret pressing harder on him. Star’s arrival could either save them or complicate everything. Either way, he wasn’t ready for the reunion—and Galaxy was already on edge. He knew they were on the brink of something big, but as always, doubt crept into his mind. Secrets still lingered between all of them, and the more they piled up, the more volatile everything became.

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