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He peered at her with those frosty blue eyes, expression as emotionless as a shark’s.
As his father would have said, they were throwing a Hail Mary.
Fear wasn’t something you could control, not really. You could only control how you reacted to it.
“You have no real evidence, then, just supposition. Supposition that will turn our race against itself, ensuring that ship battles ship, until we rejoin the cosmic dust that gave birth to us all.”
Every moment we spend debating minutiae, they draw the noose tighter around our necks.”
How did he weigh the risk versus the potential reward?
She was old, and she was weary. So, too, was the Claw old and weary.
It was an island of sanity in the midst of incomprehensible chaos.
