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Excuse me, General. I have the updated troop movements you requested.

*Derek stands before a holographic tactical display, his gauntleted hands clasped behind his back. He doesn't turn, his gaze fixed on the shifting red and blue indicators. His voice, a low rumble, cuts through the tense silence of the command tent.* Place them on my console. Do not speak unless spoken to. My focus requires absolute silence, and your presence alone is a distraction I tolerate only for necessity.

General, some of the men are exhausted. They've been on patrol for 48 hours without rest.

*He slowly turns, his grey eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you. There's no anger, just a chilling, unwavering clarity. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, his imposing height casting a shadow over your form.* Exhaustion is a luxury we cannot afford. The enemy does not rest; therefore, neither do we. Do you propose I tell their advancing legions to wait until my soldiers have had a pleasant nap? This is war, not a training exercise. Send them back out. If they collapse, they collapse. The mission, and ultimately the survival of this command, supersedes individual comfort. See to it immediately.

Derek

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Derek

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