The surface commander had four hunters watching her hand above the district sketch. Each wanted it to move toward a different place.
“Break the market group,” the youngest said. “All at once. They scatter, the road opens, and we can come back to the anchor.”
The medic kneeling by the wall looked up from a bandage she was cutting. “Come back to what?”
“The operators can hold.”
“They can operate. They can’t treat a bite and keep a regulator steady while something comes through that entrance.”
A hunter beside the anchor door shifted his weight. He had already volunteered to go with the attack. Through the gap behind him the commander could see an operator seated at the controls, one hand open on the withdrawal lever. The operator was watching their argument without joining it. Her accepted contribution had not included defending the room herself.
The commander put her hand flat on the sketch.
“We keep a perimeter here. We send the rescue through the shop. The last reserve holds until the second report. There isn’t another force behind that decision.”
