For the first time since their return to Sirius, Raven had slept deeply, no fragmented dreams, no sudden wakefulness, no phantom echoes of alarms or failing systems. Just silence.
Still, habit overruled comfort.
The moment his eyes opened, he didn’t move immediately. He listened first. The faint hum of climate control. Distant ocean waves. Nothing out of place.
Only then did he sit up.
His gaze shifted methodically across the room, tracing every position where he had set his precautions the night before, a thin filament near the doorframe, a pressure marker along the window seal, a barely visible alignment check on a drawer edge. Subtle, improvised, but effective.
All untouched.
No tension in the line. No displacement. No disturbance.
Raven exhaled slowly.
“Good,”he murmured.
He rose and went through his routine with quiet efficiency, no wasted motion, no hesitation. By the time he finished, the calm of the place had settled over him again, but it never dulled the edge.
Stepping outside, he adjusted his jacket slightly and began walking.
The path toward the Cruise-Drive Bar was unhurried, his pace steady but controlled. Staff moved around him with the same polished discretion as the night before. The resort was awake, alive, but still carried that insulated calm, like a place deliberately removed from the chaos of the wider sector.
Raven entered the bar without announcement.
He chose a seat with a clear line of sight toward both the entrance and the panoramic view beyond, instinctively placing himself where nothing could approach unseen. A light breakfast would suffice, something simple, Starting with a Coffee and a Meal enough to keep him sharp for the meeting ahead.
As he waited, his thoughts were already shifting back to business.
