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You got a recon mission where someone needs
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to hang their ass over the edge
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and wait for a bite, send Racetrack and Skulls.
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Well, beats sitting in a cell.
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SKULLS: Long-range dradis just picked something up.
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Holy frak, we're right on top of a singularity.
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A black hole? Where away?
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7-3-8 carom 8-8-2. We're already sliding toward it.
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Spin up the FTL. We're getting out of here.
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Frak me.
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What?
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You're not gonna believe this.