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

As they prepped their gear, the camaraderie was unspoken but absolute. They were the outliers, the ones the Federation called when diplomacy failed and the odds were impossible.

“To the edge?” Mercur asked, checking the edge of his vibro-blade.

How should the once they breach the refinery's perimeter? OF - Lawrence London, Halif Faruk, Roman Mercur...

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.

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.” As they prepped their gear, the camaraderie was

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

“I never miss,” Faruk replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. How should the once they breach the refinery's perimeter

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.