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On the Roosevelt’s bridge, Captain Chen stood steady, eyes moving between displays and the horizon beyond the armored glass. There was no shouting, no visible panic—only clipped confirmations and disciplined execution. The crew had rehearsed this scenario countless times, though never under the knowledge that the missiles in the sky were real. Fear was present, but contained, compartmentalized behind training and duty.
And then, as swiftly as the attack had begun, the calculus shifted. The defensive phase gave way to response.
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