The tactical table came alive with a damaged hum.
Blue terrain lines rose from the projector and formed Vardency above the broken glass, dead consoles, and blood on the command hub floor. The depot servers kept skipping frames. Buildings flickered, vanished, then returned with their roofs misaligned by a few feet.
Elias knelt near the back of the room and repacked the medical bag.
Elias moved slowly with his head lowered. He counted gauze and checked gel tubes, giving the leaders no reason to think the map interested him.
His ribs still pulsed from the skiff, the courtyard, the crates, and the lie he kept carrying from one room to the next.
Roachaline leaned over the projection. Red and violet light beat under her armor, fighting with the blue map glow. Sylira stood at her left with one gloved finger tracing the terrain. Her wire Ikona copied the movement along her forearm.
