Sera could see the faction’s borrowed credentials before she could see its leader’s face.
The men at the front held them above shoulder height as if the metal plates could carry them through the defenders. Behind them, more people filled the approach to the anchor building. Some wore pieces of old hunter equipment. Others had work gloves and no armor, their anger sharpened by the belief that the operators inside were refusing help while the seal failed around them.
The local commander held her defenders behind a low barrier clear of the regulator wall. She had kept the main entrance shut and the service path open for people leaving the volunteer room. Sera stopped beside her rather than moving ahead into a command she did not hold.
“How many entered?” she asked.
“None through this side. The service door is watched.”
“Operators?”
“Still on their controls. Three volunteers asked to leave. Two are out. One is getting her things.”
“Tell her someone can retrieve the things if she wants to move now.”
