The war room Lucy had commandeered buzzed with the hum of holographic displays and data streams. Maps of the Sigma-7 system rotated slowly above the central table, casting blue light across the faces of Team 7 as they studied their target. Noah nursed his third cup of coffee, the bitter taste helping him focus after another sleepless night worrying about the kidnapped king and Vex.
"Alright, people," Lucas said, settling into his chair with the easy authority of someone born to command. "Let's hear reconnaissance options. We go in blind, we're dead. Simple as that."
Lucy manipulated the display, zooming in on Sigma-7's primary planet. The readout wasn't encouraging—atmosphere composed of sixty percent carbon dioxide, thirty-five percent sulfur compounds, and five percent trace elements that included several known toxins. Surface temperature averaged negative forty degrees Celsius, with wind speeds that could knock a person flat.
