20
The red alert wailed through the Formidable’s corridors. Ryker jumped from her bed, spilling her morning tea. The hot beverage scalded her legs, and she furiously brushed the standing liquid to the deck. She rushed to her mirror, grabbed the towel and tossed it into the small puddle.
Since the Formidable had transferred to the border region of space, the entire squadron had been on endless patrols into a bunch of nothingness. A marauder had appeared at the edge of their patrol range, but wisely fled instead of heading toward them or the nearest star system of Claria.
She changed into her uniform, taking a sideways glance at herself in the mirror. Her blue Tizona cap sat atop her black hair. A stray strand draped over her bloodshot eyes. Beneath her eyes, her skin puffed and darkened.
