Faruk, Roman Mercur... | Of - Lawrence London, Halif

“And back,” London replied, slamming a fresh power cell into his rifle.

The air in the sterile briefing room was thick with the scent of ozone and recycled oxygen. , his face a map of scars and sun-faded tattoos, leaned over the holographic display. He was the anchor, the veteran who had seen more deep-space combat than the rest of the crew combined. OF - Lawrence London, Halif Faruk, Roman Mercur...

How should the once they breach the refinery's perimeter? “And back,” London replied, slamming a fresh power

London straightened, his gaze sweeping over his team. “Faruk, get us in. Mercur, you’re the ghost—neutralize the internal sensors. I’ll handle the heavy lifting.” He was the anchor, the veteran who had

The hangar doors hissed open, revealing the sleek, black silhouette of their ship. The mission was suicide to some, but to London, Faruk, and Mercur, it was just another Tuesday in the void.