She exited the vehicle immediately after disengaging it, and fiercely marched toward her two other colleagues.
Mathew was slower to move, and slammed the door of the cruiser just hard enough to set the tone for his subordinates.
Randell was already primed to patronize someone, so chose Ashniin as she approached.
“What’s the old man doing now?” he yelled, standing at the passenger-side door of the Razar.
The cool water droplets aerated by autumn’s whipping winds had already begun to cover her face, so she merely shrugged in response to the comment without actually checking for her partner.
Heavy boots spilled out from the carriers.
Agile Black Coat officers unloaded and cracked the transport crates containing technical equipment and the extra ammunition for the T-1223 neuro-suppressing shock tamers they all carried. Afterward, they began jovially distributing the slim clips among their few dozen members.
The team moved with efficiency and coordination to quickly establish a command post around the necessary technical equipment.
Mathew was observing the bustle of activity from a safe distance near the Suliura. He scanned the ranks of Black Coats for the veterans and watched them impart their wisdom onto impressionable do-gooders who could only process the concept of conflict under a utopian construct.
The familiar clicks, clacks, and cackles of cohesion resonated on a whining frequency and the ambient noise gave way to echoes of war that only Mathew’s mind could concoct with such vividness. He had to clench and close his eyes to renounce the horrible recollections resurfacing from a sea of suppressed memories.