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... ergy, its low crowd a stark contrast to the frenetic bustle Syn had left behind in the control room. Brunch was an odd hour, the tables dotted with only a handful of pirates nursing cold drinks or picking at leftovers, their voices a muted murmur beneath the ship's ambient drone.
Syn sat alone at a corner table, the metal chair creaking faintly under him, the space around him a buffer no one breached. Eyes flicked his way—wary, curious, some edged with lingering suspicion—but no one appr ...
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