She hadn’t stopped running for eleven years.
She turned the slate toward him. Mercer’s face, usually a slab of unreadable stone, flickered with something raw. Fear. Ccg 8.1.4
Mercer leaned closer. “That’s insane. Point of origin for that code is Tartarus. We swept that sector. Nothing left but slag and silence.” She hadn’t stopped running for eleven years
“That’s a Colonial Guard priority distress,” he said. “Class-One. The kind you only pull if the alternative is feeding your crew into a star.” Point of origin for that code is Tartarus
Then, a second line appeared.
“That’s an order, Commander.” The descent took fourteen hours. The Vindicator was a tugboat, not a submersible. By the time they reached the fissure, the hull was groaning like a dying animal. Outside the viewport, the methane sea was a black mirror, flecked with crystalline hydrocarbons that glittered like broken teeth.
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