On the holographic projection, the faces of Secretary-General Lin and General Croft appear. Lin looks thoroughly haggard, the deep lines of exhaustion around his eyes stark in the harsh lighting of his New York office. Croft stands beside him, her military bearing rigid, her eyes flashing with a fierce, predatory light.
"Luna Isla," Lin begins, his voice tight, stripped of its usual diplomatic polish. "The UN Space Command has reviewed the telemetry data from the Artemis VII flight. The gravity drive signature... the lunar surface anomalies... the energy spike from the Tycho crater. We know you went to the Moon. We know you activated something."
I don't flinch. I don't project my aura. I just look at him with cold, human eyes.
"We went to the Moon to secure a Vanguard black-site that wa
