Edge of Uncertainty

Nell Avocet squinted through the starboard porthole, despite the fact that the holovid display gave a clear sensor map of the previously scanned floor along the Ahndar Massif.
The amber-green lights affixed to the hull of the submersible research craft Randolph Scott gave a ghostly glow to the rim of the Uhlblahno Chasm.
“Thirty seconds until dropoff,” said the pilot, a Vanguard trooper named Ishmael Greene. He chuckled, looked over his shoulder at his passenger, and added: “Not too late to change your mind.”
She didn’t laugh. Like many in her family line, she seemed to lack a fully formed sense of humor.
“We’re going,” she said. With a scowl, she tacked on: “Unless you’re too frightened.”
That knocked the smirk off his face.
“Why would I be scared?” he asked, turning his attention back to the controls. “Ten seconds to dropoff.”
The Randolph Scott whirred onward through the ink black Gahnli sea water toward the waiting abyss.