The Cosmic Trapper

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2026-05-25 12:59:23 -

The rain in the Sector 7 rim didn't fall; it clung. It was a greasy, neon-stained mist that smelled of ozone and old copper. Silas sat in the cockpit of the *Void-Runner*, the dim glow of the dashboard casting deep, skeletal shadows across his face. He smoked a synthetic cigar, the smoke curling into the shape of a question mark. Silas was a "Cleaner." In the cold parlance of the Galactic...

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