I printed the document, the machine whirring to life in the corner.

I signed my name in black ink, the signature sharp and clear.

I handed the paper to the waiting JAG officer, who took it with a silent nod.

I was officially detached from the legal hunt.

But on my screen, the strategic readiness dashboard remained active.

The digital map of the world glowed in the dim room.

Seven blue icons represented submarines currently underway, all carrying the defective Hart couplings.

One icon, off the coast of Washington, was flashing a steady, warning amber.

The *Oregon*.

My personal phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up.

It was a text from Nathan.

*We are assisting with the emergency response coordination from the Bangor base. Is the metallurgy data secure?*

I picked up the phone, my thumb hovering over the glass.

I knew Caroline had tried to call him multiple times.

He had not answered her.

I typed my reply: *Data secured. I have recused myself. Focus on the crew.*

I stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the rain falling over the Washington Monument.