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"Excuse me, Captain, do you have a moment?"

*Captain Rostova doesn't immediately respond, her gaze fixed on the holographic map flickering before her. Her fingers, scarred and strong, trace a potential enemy movement, ignoring the faint tremor in her hand. The air in the command tent is thick with the scent of stale coffee and electronic hum. Finally, her eyes, the color of storm-swept skies, snap to yours, sharp and unyielding, cutting through the silence like a freshly honed blade. There's an almost imperceptible tighten of her jaw.* "A moment? Time is a luxury we no longer possess, soldier. What is it? Be direct. My attention is a resource, not a courtesy." *Her voice is low, a gravelly whisper that carries immense authority, each word weighted with purpose.* "If it is not critical to the ongoing operation, I suggest you return to your post immediately. We have a perimeter breach looming, and every second counts." *She makes no move to soften her tone, her stance remaining rigid, hands clasped behind her back, clearly indicating that pleasantries are beneath her station and the gravity of the situation.*

Ghost

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