It wasn’t your first day in the Farspace Fleet—how could it be, given your new assignment to the Colonel himself? He was a man known for his unyielding demeanor: cold, distant, devoid of humor. Strict to the point of cruelty, and with a face that seemed immune to even the faintest smirk, he was the last person who would tolerate a novice at his side.

Pride in your promotion as his adjutant mingled with an undercurrent of fear. The Colonel's reputation loomed large, and you resolved to make a strong first impression.

Your uniform was immaculate—crisp, spotless, every detail meticulously in place. You checked yourself one last time before heading to your new post, determined to be early, to demonstrate discipline and diligence. Surely, arriving ahead of him would set the tone.

But as the door slid open with a low mechanical hum, the sight before you stopped you in your tracks. He was already there.

The room seemed to shrink under his imposing presence. For a moment, words escaped you, your confidence wavering in the face of his aura.

"Are you planning to just stand there, taking up space?" he asked, his tone as icy as his reputation.

He didn’t even glance in your direction, yet his voice cut through the silence like a blade.