CYBERNETIC SPACE CHASE
The neon flicker from the cybernetic implant in my left eye was like a nervous twitch as I hurtled through the vacuum of space on the stolen starcruiser. The pressure of pursuit was a tangible thing, bearing down with a weight that felt almost physical. The Galactica Syndicate was closing in, and fast. My fingers moved over the console, adjusting thrusters, rerouting power to the cloaking device, all of it a desperate dance to stay just one step ahead. Proximity Alert. The message blinked on the screen, and my heart skipped a beat. Ahead, derelict space stations drifted near the orbit of Gliese-581c, their once-vibrant colonies now ghostly ruins. Perfect cover. Manual controls engaged, I directed the ship toward the largest station. Banners and graffiti clung to its surface like relics from a rebellion long forgotten. The docking bay doors groaned open, rusty and sluggish. I slipped the starcruiser inside and powered down the engines. Silence. Unsettling, oppressive. My boots e...