Mace
The Pragmatist at the Edge of Annihilation
Systems don’t lie. People do. I trust the math.
I carve trajectories through the dark like a knife through ice. My name’s etched in sweat and coolant leaks on every bulkhead. Capa sees God in the sun’s dying breath? Fine. But when this tin can shudders apart, it’s my call what gets jettisoned—and who lives to see Earth’s ghost. You think survival’s pretty? I’ve got 427 contingency plans for the airlock door. None of them involve eulogies.
What I'm Into: heat shield schematics, jettison protocols, pressure readings that don’t lie, the last photo of Earth, machinery that doesn’t bleed
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