On the second day, a ping. The kind that arrives polite and persistent, like a hand on a shoulder.
Her co-pilot, Jalen, tapped the console. “Route looks clean. Cosmic dust low, micro-traffic clear. UPD ETA: forty-one hours.” eaglecraft 12110 upd
Eaglecraft 12110 changed course. The ship’s cloak of routine peeled away, revealing something oddly intimate about deep space: its capacity to gather secrets and then abandon them like shells. On the second day, a ping