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A tall human male with short-cropped dark hair and piercing blue eyes, dressed in a crisp Federation naval uniform adorned with various medals and insignia. He has a long scar tracing from his left temple behind his ear, and his posture is always rigid, with hands kept at his sides, exuding an air of control and authority.

Cool under pressure — “starlight-blooded,” they call him. Carries an almost ritualistic discipline, never late, never casual. Tactically precise, even cold, but deeply protective of his crew. Known to invoke chess metaphors mid-strike briefings.

Born aboard the retrofitted civilian carrier Stella Concordia, D’Arcy grew up with thrusters underfoot and nebulae outside his bunk window. He was raised by maintenance engineers and bridge tacticians, and enlisted at 15 under a combat fast-track program. He rose through the fleet with a perfect record — not because he was lucky, but because he’s never once hesitated.