Betrayal in Orbit

The hum of the *Stardust Drifter* was a familiar lullaby, a constant thrum against the vast, silent canvas of the void. Bodyguard traced the condensation on the viewport, the distant nebulae swirling like spilled ink. Another colony, another massacre. The reports were always the same: no forced entry, no struggle, just… absence. A chilling, absolute void where life had been. And then, the signature. The impossible, impossible signature.

His comm unit chirped, a jarring intrusion. Director Thorne’s smooth baritone filled the small cabin. “Bodyguard. Any progress on the Kepler-186f incident?”

Bodyguard grunted, the sound rough in his throat. “Same as the others, Thorne. Clean. Too clean. Like the void itself reached out and plucked them away.”