Ravik stood with arms crossed in the Revenant’s briefing room, gaze fixed on Kael. The Strike Commander stood with his back to the room’s wall display, a map of orbital routes flickering behind him. He barely looked up from his datapad.

“You’ll need to learn how to pilot. As Infiltrator, getting in and out undetected is your responsibility. No backups.”

Ravik scoffed. “The Academy produces leaders, not operators.”

Kael looked up, the harsh echo of his boots filling the room as he moved toward Ravik. Ravik braced but kept his expression neutral.

“It’s unusual.” Kael’s tone was low. Serious. “The Vanguard doesn’t take Academy graduates.”

“Then why me?”

“Command doesn’t share reasons. Maybe they wanted to see if an Academy mind can learn to think in the dark.”

Ravik stepped closer, looking down at Kael. “I earned my rank.”

“You think that matters? Were you trained to lead from above the battlefield, or survive in it?”

“You think I don’t belong here?”

Kael’s eyes snapped up. “Do what the mission demands. Earn your place, Captain.”

Ravik held the silence, jaw set.

Kael turned. “Veyra will take you to the flight sims. Don’t waste my time.”

Ravik followed Veyra down the corridor. Despite her short stature and stocky build, she moved fast. Her pace had the clipped precision of someone who wanted to be somewhere else. Ravik hadn’t really bothered to learn more about his non-Yawr peers, dismissing them as just another necessity.

Of course people from conquered worlds would want to serve.

He’d never seen green eyes before, or such short hair on a woman. Not that it mattered. He hated cockpits. They reminded him of someone who made it look effortless. Someone who pulled Gs like gravity owed him. Ravik wasn’t here to chase that shadow.

“You’re the first.”

He glanced over. “First what?”

“To make the Vanguard straight from training,” Veyra said. “Everyone else spent years clawing their way up.”

His pace faltered half a step.

“That supposed to mean something?”

“Means the pressure’s on. Either you’re special, or someone screwed up.”

He clenched his fists. He hadn’t asked for shortcuts, but the weight of those words landed hard.

“Just something to think about,” Veyra said, already ahead of him again.

They stepped into the sim bay. Bright light and humming machinery filled the space. Sarin turned, grinning.

“Captain Ravik. Looking radiant as ever this fine morning.”

Sarin stepped closer, close enough for Ravik to smell caffeine and something vaguely floral. “You nervous?” Sarin’s tone dropped half a register. “Just remember to breathe. And stay relaxed. Some people panic the first time they handle the stick.”

Ravik rolled his eyes.

Veyra snorted. “Stars above Sarin, can you at least attempt to be professional.”

“Veyra, please,” Sarin said, mock-offended. “I am a professional.” He winked at Ravik. “In more ways than one.”

He clapped Ravik on the back. “Relax, Captain. Flying’s easy. I’ll have you slipping through enemy space in no time.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Sarin’s smile widened. “Oh, I love a challenge. Let’s get started.”

Ravik stood with arms crossed, eyes narrowing at the sim pod like it had insulted him. Spending the morning trapped in this thing wasn’t the plan, but Kael’s voice lingered: Prove you belong here.

Sarin leaned lazily against the pod, smirking as Ravik sized it up. His silver eyes gleamed with mischief, already miles ahead of Ravik’s scowl.

“So,” Sarin began, “is this your first time?”

Ravik frowned at him. “What?”

Sarin’s smirk widened. “You know… handling the throttle. Seeing how it feels—”

Ravik cut him off. “If you’re asking if I’ve flown before, the answer is no.”

Sarin’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Ah, a first-timer. Don’t worry—I’ll be gentle.”

Ravik’s brows furrowed, his tone sharpening. “Gentle? What do you mean, ‘gentle’? I don’t need gentle. I need effective.”

Sarin smothered a laugh and stood straighter. “Effective, huh? Well, everyone’s different their first time. Some dive in like naturals. Others… need coaching to find their rhythm.”

Ravik tilted his head. “And I’m guessing you’re the expert here?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Sarin replied, placing a hand on the pod. “I’ve done this more times than I can count. Long nights, quick sessions, and everything in between.”

Ravik blinked. “How many times have you done it?”

Sarin shrugged. “Lost track. Hundreds, maybe. Eventually, it’s second nature. You start to pick up on all the little things that make it really… satisfying.”

Ravik shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms tighter. “I don’t see what’s so ‘satisfying’ about flying a damn pod. It’s a means to an end.”

Sarin let out a laugh. “Oh, Ravik, if it’s not satisfying, you’re definitely doing it wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

“Flying, of course,” Sarin said with a wink. He leaned closer, his voice dropping. “But hey, don’t feel bad. A lot of people struggle at first. Nerves, overthinking… it happens to the best of us. The trick is to relax and let it come naturally.”

Ravik’s jaw tightened. Enough. “I don’t get nervous. And I don’t overthink.”

Sarin arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Well, then you’ll have to show me. Prove it.”

Ravik turned away, stepping into the pod, his patience wearing thin. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

But Sarin wasn’t done. “Just one more thing.”

“What now?”

Sarin leaned in. “First times are always better with someone more… experienced.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Of course I am,” Sarin said, clapping Ravik on the shoulder. “Helping someone find their potential? Greatest pleasure there is. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Ravik muttered as he climbed in, shaking his head. “This better be worth it.”

Sarin leaned against the pod, watching him with barely concealed amusement. “Oh, don’t worry, Ravik. With me leading the way, it’s going to be unforgettable.”