That insignificance never seemed more profound than it did at that moment, with the comms dead silent and the ship cut off from the rest of humanity.
"We're in the soup now, ain't we?" Sergeant O'Sullivan muttered from his station at the sensor array. "Nothing but static for hours."
Hargreaves didn't reply, focused on the console as his fingers danced across the controls. Protocol demanded they maintain communication with command, but space was a big place. Sometimes, signals got lost. Sometimes, though, that silence meant something else. Something more ominous.
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