Ccg 8.1.4 -

“That’s an order, Commander.” The descent took fourteen hours. The Vindicator was a tugboat, not a submersible. By the time they reached the fissure, the hull was groaning like a dying animal. Outside the viewport, the methane sea was a black mirror, flecked with crystalline hydrocarbons that glittered like broken teeth.

Elara’s blood turned to ice water. Sundog had been her callsign. Her secret callsign, known only to the eight members of Ccg Unit 8. Jin had given it to her after she’d navigated an asteroid field by the refraction of a distant star—a “sundog” in the void.

Jin reached into a pouch on his harness with his remaining hand. He pulled out a data chip, no bigger than her thumbnail.

The inside of the pod smelled of recycled sweat and old blood. The lights flickered, weak and orange. And there, strapped into a command chair that had been jury-rigged with a dozen different life-support tubes, was Jin Sol. Ccg 8.1.4

“I know what it is,” Elara said. “I wrote the damn protocol. Ccg: Command Contingency Group. 8.1.4: Abandon all protocols. Return to point of origin. The dead are not dead. ”

“Takes one to know one,” Jin replied. Then his eyes glazed. His hand went slack. The monitor began a slow, descending whine.

“The mission logs. The real ones. I stripped the encryption before the pod went dark.” He pressed the chip into her palm. “Promise me you’ll get this to Fleet Command. Not the Guard. Command . The people who don’t wear black.” “That’s an order, Commander

The letters glowed amber on the slate’s cracked screen. No context. No sender ID. Just the code.

“Set course for Tartarus Secundus,” she said.

“Escape pod. The old Mark Sevens—they had a stealth layer. Classified. I used it the second you sealed the doors. Dropped into the sea before the main reactor went critical.” He coughed, a wet, horrible sound. “Been here ever since. The pod’s recyclers… they gave out five years ago. I’ve been breathing scrubber sludge and eating nutrient paste that expired before the war.” Outside the viewport, the methane sea was a

“I’m not leaving you again.”

“You stupid, stubborn bastard,” she whispered.

Elara’s mind reeled. “Who?”