The airlock hissed open and Ravik stepped aboard the Revenant. The hum of the engines was faint beneath his boots as he advanced, datapad in hand.

Ahead, the team was waiting. The common area looked like it doubled as a staging room, with scuffed tables and lockers against the far wall. Strike Commander Kael stood at the forefront, his stance stiff, arms crossed. No need to ask who ran the ship. Beside him, Veyra leaned against a console and watched him without blinking, while Sarin lounged in one of the chairs, a lazy grin spreading across his face as soon as Ravik entered.

The low chatter cut off. Chairs scraped. Sarin’s grin widened. Even Kael’s composed expression faltered for a fraction of a second before he cleared his throat. Ravik took it in stride, his violet eyes sweeping over the team with a glance that asked for nothing and gave even less. 

Kael was the first to speak, stepping forward with a measured nod. “Captain Ravik,” he said, his tone clipped but polite. “Welcome aboard the Revenant. Commander Zarion certainly fought hard to get you assigned here.”

Ravik tilted his head slightly, the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Did he now?” he replied, his voice smooth and unimpressed.

Kael’s jaw tightened—then Sarin cut in.

“Yeah, no kidding. I mean, with looks like that, who wouldn’t?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze shamelessly fixed on Ravik. “I hope your cabin’s next to mine. Makes for convenient late-night planning… or, you know, whatever.”

Ravik’s gaze shifted to Sarin. “Careful… Flirting with your superior officer might not end well.”

Sarin’s grin only widened. “Oh, I’m willing to take the risk.”

Kael groaned softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sarin, do you have to do this every time?”

“Hey, I’m just breaking the ice,” Sarin said with a shrug, though his eyes never left Ravik.

Veyra’s voice cut through the exchange, low and direct. “Ravik, ignore him. Sarin flirts with everyone, even the vending units. You’ll get used to it.”

Ravik turned his attention to her, his curiosity piqued. Unlike the others, Veyra’s expression was steady, her gaze unapologetic as she sized him up. No flattery. No deference. 

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied simply. “Also, you might want to double-check your loadout before our first mission. The Revenant doesn’t coddle its crew.”

Kael cleared his throat. “This is your team, Captain. You’ve met Sarin and Veyra. The others are currently in prep or on standby. As Strike Commander, I expect discipline, precision, and absolute loyalty. This isn’t the Academy, and it’s not a parade ground. Out here, we’re in the real fight.”

Ravik raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought the Dominus had all the real fights.”

“You’ll learn quickly that we don’t have time for egos on this ship, no matter how impressive they are.”

“Understood, Strike Commander,” Ravik replied smoothly, inclining his head just enough to convey respect without fully conceding.

As the conversation settled, Ravik could feel the weight of their eyes on him. Kael assessed. Sarin stared. The others pretended not to. 

For now he let the team’s reactions settle as he took in his surroundings. This was the Revenant. His new battleground.

With a final glance at Kael, Ravik straightened his posture. “I’m sure I’ll get the hang of things. After all, I wouldn’t want to disappoint the Commander—or any of you.”

Sarin smirked, Kael frowned, and Veyra rolled her eyes, but Ravik caught the faintest trace of a smile.

Tolerable. For now.

The Revenant hummed underfoot as Ravik followed Kael through its narrow corridors. The dim, utilitarian lighting cast their shadows long against the walls. Kael walked straight-backed, arms behind him, every step precise.

Ravik’s voice broke through, calm and curious. “What did you mean earlier, about Commander Zarion fighting hard to get me assigned here?”

Kael glanced over his shoulder. “Curious, are you?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

Kael’s laugh was short, dry. He shook his head. “Fair enough.” He slowed his pace, allowing Ravik to draw closer. “Zarion doesn’t… meddle. Not usually. His orders are delivered through encrypted channels, indirect and impersonal. You do what’s asked, and if you’re lucky, you never meet him.”

Ravik said nothing. But in his head, Zarion's voice slipped back in—low, patient, far too intimate.

Kael continued. “When someone like Zarion steps in, people notice. It’s not just his rank; it’s the reputation he carries. You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you?”

“Some.”

Kael smirked. “Of course you have. Everyone has. But what’s fact and what’s fiction? That’s harder to pin down.”

They turned a corner, passing a maintenance crew working quietly on an exposed panel. Kael’s tone grew lower, more conspiratorial.

“They say Zarion handpicks every Strike Commander himself, though no one ever knows how or when. Some claim he’s got files on everyone—potential recruits, veterans, even the Emperor’s generals. Others think he can just… see potential. Like he’s one step ahead of everyone else.”

Ravik kept walking.

“Then there’s the rumors about his record.” Kael’s voice grew quieter still. “Some say he’s single-handedly taken out rebel leaders. Entire councils, wiped clean before they even realized he was in the room. Supposedly, he’s got tech no one else in the fleet has access to. Cloaking devices. Neural disruptors… things that make him more ghost than man.”

Kael glanced at Ravik again, studying his reaction.

“And then,” he continued, “there’s the wilder stuff. That he’s immortal. That he doesn’t need to sleep. That he can see into the future.”

“And how much of that do you believe?”

Kael shrugged. “Enough to stay out of his way.”

He halted in front of a door and turned, sharp and square. “Truth is, Ravik,” he said, tone serious now. “Zarion rarely vouches for anyone. When he does, it’s for a reason. Whatever you did to get his attention, it’s not small.”

Ravik met Kael’s crimson gaze evenly, offering only a slight nod in response. He didn’t mention the encrypted call, the direct conversation with Zarion that still sent a faint chill down his spine.

Kael pressed a button, and the door to Ravik’s cabin slid open with a soft hiss. “Settle in. And don’t let Sarin get on your nerves too quickly. We’ve got a team brief in the morning.”

Ravik gave a faint smirk. “I’ll try.”

As Kael walked away, Ravik stepped into the cabin. The door slid shut behind him, but the warning lingered.

Whatever you did to get his attention, it’s not small.

Ravik exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. Kael was right—this wasn’t about orders. Zarion had made it personal.

And what would it cost him to prove it?