Cross Section / CROSSSEC

In the dark lanes between comm arrays and jump points, the name CROSS SECTION spread as a whisper before it became a warning.

What began as a loose brotherhood of hunters grew into something colder and far more precise. We learned to read the verse the way surgeons read flesh, slicing along the fault lines of shields, power curves, and panic. Years of blooded contracts and silent kills sharpened us into specialists of unlawful space, carrying our Crime Stats like medals rather than stains.

When a signature flickers where it should not, when an X is etched into empty vacuum, it means we have already found your weak point. By the time you realize you are marked, you are no longer a ship on a scanner. You are a cross section in our sights.