Amber light spilled across the central table in the War Room. Kael stood, arms folded, backlit by a rotating schematic of the abandoned weapons station in terminal orbit above Delkar-7. Officially, it was decommissioned and left to be consumed by the gas giant, forgotten. Unofficially, it wasn’t.

“Direct from Imperial Intelligence,” he began. “Operation Black Solace. We breach, extract the weapons data, and wipe the system. Six-hour window. No second tries.”

He flicked a control, and a sidebar of classified tags flashed: STARFLUX TELEMETRY – PRIORITY APEX.

Ravik frowned. “Why send us for a basic data pull?”

“Because that ‘basic data’ is the Starflux firing matrix, lifted by someone inside our own command chain, a traitor who’s still at large,” Kael said, each word clipped. “If the rebels decrypt it, every frontier garrison goes blind before the first shot. We slip in, take it back, wipe the station’s AI, and vanish.”

His gaze paused on Ravik long enough to feel like a loaded challenge. Your turn to prove you belong here.

Kael continued. “Sarin, overwatch from the crow’s nest. Clear shots, real-time tracking. Keep them off our backs.”

Sarin leaned back. “I’ll make it art.”

Kael ignored him. “Veyra, demolition and disruption. EMP burst on the outer network, charges on the transmission array.”

“Copy,” Veyra nodded.

Kael turned to Ravik.

“You’re the infiltrator. EVA in, breach the hatch, extract the core files, disable the internal AI. No alarms. No mistakes.”

Ravik didn’t blink. “Understood.”

Kael tapped the console; a red countdown clock flooded the holo. “We drop in twenty. Suit up.”

Chairs scraped back. The team dispersed with practiced efficiency. Ravik lingered a beat longer. My first live mission. Focus.

In the locker bay, Ravik tightened the seals on his suit. The exoskin clung close, matte black with silent magnetic clamps along the forearms. His helmet rested against the bench beside him.

“You nervous, Captain?”

Ravik didn’t have to look up. Sarin leaned against the next locker, tuning his scope.

“First time in the zone,” Sarin said lightly. “Feel like puking yet?”

Ravik didn’t look over. “No.”

“Give it time,” Sarin went on. “First drop’s always the worst. This isn’t the Academy. No do-overs out there. One bad seal, one missed drone, and you’re just another corpse with nice hair.”

Ravik closed the locker with a clean snap. “You always this helpful before a mission?”

“Only when I like someone.” Sarin snapped his scope into place. “You’re fun to rattle.”

Veyra passed behind them, pulling her own gear from the rack. “Keep rattling him and Kael’s going to rattle you—into the bulkhead.”

Sarin grinned. “I’m overdue for a good rattling from Kael.”

“Stars above...”

Kael’s voice cut in, sharp and close. “Enough. Transport’s ready.”

They filed out in silence.

The drop bay hissed with pressurized air. Red status lights pulsed over the launch frame as Ravik stepped into the airlock. Kael stood beside the inner panel, arms crossed, helmet clipped to his belt.

“You clear on your entry point?”

Ravik nodded once. “Maintenance hatch. Starboard understructure. AI node sits three levels in.”

“You’ve got one shot at this,” Kael said. “In quiet, out clean. Once Veyra hits the EMP, you’ve got ninety seconds of dark before the cameras cycle.”

Ravik checked the propulsion pack on his back, then tightened the magnetic clamps on his wrists. He’d done drills like this before among the moons of Xerion, controlled and supervised. He told himself this shouldn’t be any different.

“I don’t need a second shot.”

“Good. Because no one’s coming after you if you screw it up.”

The inner doors sealed. The last breath of pressurized air hissed through the vent, and then the launch panel turned green.

Ravik stepped off the platform into open space.

The silence hit harder than the cold.

Everything around him moved in slow motion. The station sat ahead: towering panels of black metal and red-lit gantries, half-shrouded by asteroid fragments and cosmic dust. Cloud trails from the gas giant below peeled away debris in graceful arcs. Less than a dozen sentry drones floated in lazy paths.

“Sarin here,” came the voice in his ear, smooth but focused. “Perch is good. I’ve got visual on sentries. One drone coming your way.”

Ravik eased off propulsion. Blue light flickered across his visor. Sarin’s shot hit the drone square in the core, its lights dying as it spun into space.

“Clear. Try not to get sentimental.”

Ravik angled his body toward the target and increased thrust. Thirty meters to go.

“Twenty seconds,” Sarin added. “Pick up the pace, Captain.”

Ravik closed the distance in slow bursts, hands steady. The hatch came into view, a sealed access point with a single status light, glowing red.

He pulled the decryption spike from his belt and slid it into the port. Symbols flickered across his HUD, spiraling through access layers. One failed entry. Two. A flicker of static.

Kael’s voice sliced in. “Status.”

“Working,” Ravik muttered.

The final sequence aligned. The light turned green and the hatch hissed open.

“I’m in,” Ravik said as he pulled himself inside.