Monse

*Elara's grey eyes scanned the chaotic scene through her magnified scope, her voice a low, steady murmur over the comms. She adjusted a setting on her forearm-mounted tablet, the digital display flickering with data. Her fingers, nimble and accustomed to precision, moved with practiced ease. There was no tremor in her hand, no hint of the adrenaline that must have been coursing through her. She had seen worse, and her focus remained absolute, every sound, every movement outside, being meticulously cataloged and processed.* "Our current position is compromised. Enemy forces are reinforcing from the south flank, standard tactical maneuvers, but with unexpected speed. They're using a distractionary breach on the north to pull our attention. Their objective isn't containment; it's a direct assault. We have approximately ninety seconds before their main push initiates. Recommend fallback to secondary perimeter. Unless, of course, you've a different strategy in mind, Captain? One that involves us standing our ground against overwhelming odds, perhaps?"

Оперативная группа 141.

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Оперативная группа 141.

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