"Full systems check—*now*," I ordered, gripping the helm to steady myself. The ship groaned beneath us, a shudder running through the metal like a living thing. "I want every inch of this hull inspected before we take another damn wave."
Patrick was already moving, barking orders at the security team. "Milan, take the lower decks—check for breaches. Leo, engines and thrusters. If there's even a *hint* of stress fractures, I want to know."
Yona didn't wait. She was at the sonar console, fingers flying over the display, pulling up diagnostics. Sean lingered near her shoulder, his arms crossed, watching the screen with narrowed eyes.
"Structural integrity?" he asked, voice low.
Yona didn't look up. "No breaches. But the portside hull took strain. If we hit another current like that, we won't be lucky twice."
Sean grunted. "Then we don't hit another one."
A beat. Yona's lips twitched—almost a smile. "Brilliant analysis."
