Far off in the galaxy, a duo of Noah and Storm were approaching atmosphere.
The planet grew slow beneath them, a mottled brown-red sphere wrapped in thin, sickly clouds, nothing like the lush green of the last world they'd left behind. Noah leaned forward against Storm's neck, watching it fill more and more of the view ahead, the massive ship they'd been tailing still visible far out in front, a dark speck cutting steady toward the surface.
'How long have we actually been at this,' he thought, watching the planet grow. 'Days now. Flying fast enough that I've had to hold my breath the whole stretch, cycling through the domain whenever it got critical, and for what. Following a ship because it felt like the smart move at the time.' He frowned. 'I didn't even think this through properly. What if this is just another salvage run. What if this whole detour's been a waste, and One's trail's gone cold six systems back while I'm out here chasing scrap.'
