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... ng fingers. The ancient device hummed with reluctant life, its internal coils glowing faintly. She wasn’t just trying to heat food; she was attempting to siphon a stable power output to interface with the waterlogged datapad they’d recovered. Her toolkit, lay spread on a clean cloth. In the neat bunks lining the wall, the others slept.
Clara’s brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands escaping to cling to her damp neck. The heat from her work and the stuffy air forced her t ...
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