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Locked eyes, Vendric and Cratt held Sofia and tried to pull her arm out. Her face was delicate yet strong, with high cheekbones and full lips that seemed at odds with the grimness of the world around her. Together, the trio formed a formidable unit, one that had seen action in some of the most dangerous sectors of the Imperium. “We’ve lost containment,” Cratt said, his usually calm voice tinged with a rare note of urgency. Their survival was not just a matter of chance—it was a matter of will. Her back arched and hips shifted involuntarily, opening up and angling perpendicular to her forearm. Her team consisted of three members: Sofia, Vendric, and Cratt. First a tremor, then a sharp twist, as though pulled by a puppet string. Her mind tried to catch up, to understand—but nothing made sense. Her face was delicate yet strong, with high cheekbones and full lips that seemed at odds with the grimness of the world around her. They spent their days patrolling the ship’s labyrinthine corridors, checking the integrity of the ship’s defenses and ensuring that nothing—or no one—could compromise the mission.