The Ark drifted silently above the planet Corvantis, where the Galactic Senate's grand citadel loomed like a beacon of power and unity amidst the stars. Inside the ship's command deck, Ethan Warren stood by the viewport, his sharp blue eyes scanning the endless void. His hands, calloused and battle-worn, rested on the railing, fingers absently tapping in a rhythm only he knew. The war had ended, but the weight of his recent battles felt as heavy as ever.
Behind him, the hum of the ship was a steady reminder of the ever-present responsibilities waiting for him. Daxor Ryte, the ship's chief engineer, was grumbling to himself in the corner, running diagnostics for the thousandth time, and muttering something about keeping the old girl, his term for the Ark, in fighting shape.
