“Her name is Lieutenant Solene Voss,” Juno said after a moment. “Deserted from the Jovian Defense Fleet three weeks ago. She was part of a black-site research team studying… something called ‘anomalous resonance phenomena.’”
Someone was alive down there.
But she stirred. Her lips moved.
“I know,” he said, already working the crash couch’s harness. “Log it under ‘stupid decisions, age fifty.’”
Rafian approached slowly, his hand resting on the old kinetic pistol strapped to his thigh. He tapped the hull with a magnetic hammer. Three short beats. A pause. Two beats back.