Commander Elena Marris paced the bridge, her boots thudding softly against the metal floor. The vast emptiness outside the viewport mirrored the hollowness she felt within. The war had taken more than just resources and lives; it had chipped away at her soul, leaving a void as vast as the one her ship sailed through.
"Commander, we're approaching the rendezvous coordinates," Lieutenant Hargreaves reported, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
Elena nodded, her gaze fixed on the stars. "Any sign of the Tempest?"
"Not yet, ma'am. But they should be here any minute."
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