The pod hatch closed with a hiss, cutting off Sarin’s laughter. Ravik gripped the throttle too tight, shoulders rigid as the pod hummed to life around him. Faint vibrations coursed through his hands as the simulation environment began to load.

Sarin’s voice buzzed in his ear, light and teasing as ever.

“Comfortable, Captain? Everything feeling nice and snug?”

Ravik exhaled through his nose. “It’s a seat, Sarin, not a throne.”

“Well, you’re the one sitting on it… And trust me, it’s all about how you use it.”

Ravik ignored him. “What’s first?”

“Patience,” Sarin replied. “You don’t just dive straight in. Take your time. Feel it out.”

Ravik scanned the controls, lips tight, jaw twitching. “It’s not that complicated. I’ve seen the schematics—throttle, yaw, pitch, basic navigation.”

“Sure, sure. I’ve seen blueprints of starships. Doesn’t mean I can build one with my bare hands. Flying’s an experience, Ravik. You’ve got to let it flow through you.”

Ravik’s grip tightened. “I don’t have time for your philosophy lesson, Sarin.”

“Fine, fine,” Sarin said. “Let’s get those engines warmed up. Gently now—ease into it.”

Ravik flipped the ignition. The hum deepened into a low roar as simulated thrusters kicked in.

“Not bad. Nice and smooth. You’re a natural, aren’t you?”

Ravik smirked. “Of course I am.”

“Careful,” Sarin said quickly. “Overconfidence can get you into trouble. You don’t want to push too hard too fast. Might blow something important.”

The pod’s holographic display lit up, simulating the endless expanse of space. A waypoint marker blinked in the distance, the first checkpoint of the training exercise.

“Okay, Captain. Let’s see how you handle acceleration. Throttle up, smooth and steady. Don’t jerk it too hard.”

Ravik groaned under his breath but followed the instructions. The simulated thrusters engaged and the pod surged forward, the waypoint growing closer.

“Good, good,” Sarin said, clearly enjoying himself. “Now give me a little yaw, just a touch. That’s it. Nice and fluid. You’re a quick learner, aren’t you?”

Ravik didn’t respond, too focused on the controls.

“Hey… You’re awfully quiet. Most first-timers are a mess. Panicking, fumbling, begging...”

“I don’t beg, Sarin.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Give it a few more sessions. You might surprise yourself.”

The simulation shifted, a series of asteroids appearing in the pod’s trajectory. Sarin’s voice came through with a note of mock seriousness.

“Now comes the fun part: handling tight spaces. Think you’re ready, Captain?”

“Tight spaces?” Ravik repeated, arching an eyebrow as he adjusted the controls.

“Yup. Let’s see if you can slip through without… bumping into anything. It’s all about precision and control.”

Ravik sighed. “Can you go one sentence without—”

“Without what?” Sarin cut in. “Helping you? Coaching you? Making sure you come out of this in one piece?”

Ravik didn’t bother replying, his focus shifting to the controls as he guided the pod through the field of simulated asteroids..

“Not bad,” Sarin said approvingly. “Not bad at all. You’ve got a nice touch, Captain. Very firm. Very… controlled.”

Ravik’s jaw flexed. He didn’t answer.

The last waypoint appeared on the holographic display, signaling the end of the training session. Ravik adjusted the throttle, pushing the pod to its limits as the simulated environment blurred past him.

“Whoa there,” Sarin said, his voice full of mock alarm. “Didn’t I tell you not to rush it? You’re going to wear yourself out.”

Ravik smirked, his confidence growing. “You worried I’ll finish too fast?”

Silence. Then Sarin burst out laughing.

“Oh, Ravik… I knew you had it in you.”

The pod crossed the waypoint with a flourish. Ravik completed it faster and smoother than Sarin expected. No surprise there, he thought, smoothing his uniform. But beneath that pride he felt a sharper edge: one misstep could mean more than a failed simulation, it could cost lives. And Ravik refused to let anyone doubt his capability again.

He stepped out of the pod, rolling his shoulders. 

“Not bad for your first time,” Sarin said, falling into step behind him. “But, you know, the throttle can be... sensitive. It’s all about how you handle it. Push too hard, and things might get—”

Ravik stopped, his smirk fading as he turned to face Sarin. “Are you seriously still doing this?”

“Doing what?” Sarin replied. He stepped closer, voice dipping to a murmur. “Just giving you a few tips. You wouldn’t want things to get... carried away, would you?”

“If you’re trying to make me uncomfortable, it’s not working.”

Sarin tilted his head. “Uncomfortable? No, that’s not what I want. I’m just saying... if you need any more help finding your rhythm, my cabin’s just down the hall. Practice makes perfect.”

Ravik stepped forward, closing the gap between them, his gaze unflinching.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Sarin’s grin widened, undeterred. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ravik brushed past him, no hurry in his step.

As the door slid shut behind him, Sarin leaned back against the pod. “Oh, Ravik,” he murmured. “You’re going to make this very interesting.”

Moments later, Veyra entered. Sarin was still grinning.

“You’re impossible,” she said flatly, shaking her head as she approached.

Sarin’s grin widened. “Impossible? Veyra, I’m charming. There’s a difference.”

Veyra raised an eyebrow, stopping a few steps away from him. “Yeah? Well, keep it up, and you’re going to get written up for fraternizing. Again.”

“Fraternizing? With Ravik? I’m just being friendly! Can’t a teammate offer a few words of encouragement to our newest recruit?”

Veyra stared at him. “Encouragement doesn’t usually mean offering private ‘help’ in your cabin.”

“You think I was too forward? Fine, next time I’ll dial it back a bit. Maybe stick to professional compliments, like how Ravik has flawless hand-eye coordination.”

“Or,” Veyra said, stepping into his space, her tone dropping to something colder, “you could focus on the job and stop acting like a hormonal cadet.”

Sarin’s grin faded. “Alright, alright. I get it. Don’t want to mess with the team dynamic.”

“Damn right you don’t,” Veyra replied, her tone sharpening. “Because when it gets real out there, you’re the best damn marksman in the Vanguard. And I don’t want anyone else covering me.”

Sarin nodded. “You don’t have to worry about that, Veyra,” he said quietly. “I’ll always have your back.”

“Good. Because I’m not interested in training your replacement.”

Sarin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re a buzzkill, you know that?”

“Somebody has to be.” 

Veyra walked toward the door. She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Get your act together, Sarin. Ravik doesn’t need you messing with his head.”

Sarin exhaled, smile faint but lingering. “Always so serious.” He turned back to the pod.

“Don’t worry, Veyra,” he said softly. “I’ve got my priorities straight.”