can't wash out the blue: shallowness

Two gentlemen, sitting in the corner of a slow ship, faces bathed in flickering light, the monitor replaying the wave that all the 'verse has been watching. After they first saw it, they exchanged looks, able to read who was behind it, though this information was new to them. But they'd always known she was a threat.

They could have caught her quietly, but they were told to back off, to wash their hands of it. Parliamentary Operatives take priority. The results of that deal are clear to see as instability approaches.

Their hands will be covered in blue again.

END

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