The shuttle's hull vibrated as it dropped out of the gray-veil transit lane. Mira Solen checked her harness one more time, eyes on the cracked display feeding asteroid drift data.
The repurposed smuggling vessel smelled of old coolant and stale rations. No imperial markings, no strong resonance bleed. Captain Reyes had insisted on that.
"Low signature means low protection," Reyes said from the pilot station. His voice carried the flat edge of someone who'd run too many rim jobs. "If Purity sniffs us, we're scrap."
Sira leaned against the bulkhead, arms crossed. "Then we don't let them sniff us. Scout ahead, mark routes, stay mobile. Sitting back observing gets us pinned."
Mira met her gaze. "Observation keeps the ancients from seeing us as another lattice takeover. We go in quiet, extract what we need, get out."
