[whirr...]
The control panels on the frigate's bridge blinked and sparkled, their light intermingling with Gel's soft voice, blending into the symphony of clicks from the frigate's control systems. Her team of spies expertly navigated the vessel they commandeered. The ship glided through the cosmic emptiness, its journey marked by the silent hum of its engines, alongside the distinguished presence of Joize's Golden Lightning.
"Adjust course by two degrees, Anya," Gel instructed, her voice calm yet authoritative.
"Copy that," Anya replied, her fingers dancing over the controls. "Course adjusted."
Another voice, hushed and steady, came from behind. "We need to keep our scanners on full alert for any potential threats," warned Kira, the team's tech specialist.
"Already done," Anya said, casting a quick glance at the radar display. "No blips so far."
