Kael and Sūrya stand on the contact beach at dawn, Moss between them, as the Antarctic ship looms in the distance.Kael's bare feet press into the wet sand, each footprint quickly erased by the receding tide, her scarred arm a silent witness.Sūrya stands on the cold beach, her bare feet sinking into the sand, the distant ship a small, hard rectangle on the horizon.In the dim bridge, fine silver data-threads crisscross the void, a pale screen rendering 'novel' in Satya script.Kael and Sūrya stand at the waterline, Moss steps between them, amber eyes reflecting the dawn, the ship a distant silhouette.Kael walks barefoot on the dark sand at dawn, her boots in hand, the Antarctic ship a distant gray rectangle offshore.The Antarctic ship anchors a kilometer offshore, its gray hull a stark rectangle against the muted sky and choppy water.Dessa stands at the center of the militia line, crossbow raised, her gaze fixed on the distant, patient ship.Sūrya approaches Kael on the wet sand, Moss standing between them, the distant ship a hard line against the muted sky.Kael turns to face Sūrya, both in profile, with Moss between them, as the sun casts long shadows on the wet sand.
