Ashen Dominion

1. Kaevas Returns

Wind howled through the rocky cliffs of Kaevas Sorrin’s secluded retreat, carrying the crisp, biting air of the mountain peaks. Nestled far from the bustling centers of Dominion control, this solitary refuge had been his sanctuary for years—a place where the echoes of past battles and the weight of command had finally given way to silence and solitude. Here, amidst the towering spires of stone and the whispering winds, he had found a semblance of peace. But peace, he had learned, was often fleeting.

Standing at the very edge of the plateau, Kaevas gazed out over the vast valley below. The stone beneath his worn boots was smooth, polished by time and the elements. His sharp eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the low-hanging clouds that shrouded the world in a perpetual haze. The distant peaks pierced the mist, their snow-capped summits gleaming faintly in the diffused sunlight. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that he was truly free—no orders to follow, no demands to meet—just the endless expanse of nature unfolding before him.

The tranquility was broken by a faint, unfamiliar hum—a sound out of place in this untouched wilderness. It was subtle at first, almost indistinguishable from the wind's whispers, but it grew steadily louder, more insistent. Kaevas's hands, calloused and steady from years of wielding both weapon and command, tightened into fists at his sides. He knew what it meant before he even turned around.

Emerging from the veil of clouds, a sleek Dominion transport descended toward the ledge. Its dark, angular hull reflected the muted light, casting long, ominous shadows over the mountain terrain. The ship hovered momentarily before settling smoothly onto the plateau, landing gear engaging with a mechanical hiss. The ramp lowered, revealing two armored soldiers flanking a slender figure dressed in immaculate formal attire.

"Admiral Kaevas Sorrin," the figure called out, his voice ringing with cold precision, devoid of the respect or warmth Kaevas had once commanded.

Kaevas remained still, his back to the intruders. His chest tightened as memories he had long suppressed clawed their way to the surface—battles waged in distant star systems, the relentless weight of command pressing down on him, lives lost under his watch. He had left all of that behind. Or so he had believed.

With deliberate calm, he turned to face the approaching officer. His eyes were hard and unyielding, a reflection of the steely resolve that had carried him through countless conflicts. The man before him wore the insignia of the Dominion’s top command, his polished boots and pristine uniform a stark contrast to the rugged landscape. His expression was impassive, offering no hint of emotion or acknowledgment of the gravity of this intrusion.

"You’ve been recalled," the officer stated flatly, offering no preamble or explanation. "The Resistance grows stronger, and your experience is required once more."

Kaevas's jaw tightened, his silence heavy as the words settled like stones in his gut. They spoke of duty, but he knew better. The Dominion needed him not out of loyalty or respect for his skills, but because they were losing control. They always came crawling back when the tides turned against them.

"I'm not interested," Kaevas finally replied, his voice as cold as the wind that whipped through the mountain air. His gaze never wavered, meeting the officer's eyes with a defiance that spoke volumes.

The officer's expression remained unchanged. "It's not a request."

A tense silence hung between them, the only sound the relentless wind swirling around the mountain peaks. Kaevas knew there was little point in arguing. Refusal meant exile, or perhaps something far worse. The Dominion had a way of ensuring compliance, one way or another. For all the years he had spent in quiet solitude, it seemed the galaxy had a way of pulling him back into its ceaseless conflicts. Deep down, he had always known that this peace was temporary, that the Dominion would never truly let him go.