The debriefing/ conference room aboard the Quantum Wings of the Abyss felt cramped and dimly lit, and smelled faintly of recycled air and strong coffee. Zeph sat at the head of the tactical conference table while holographic displays painted the walls with data that kept getting more complicated with each passing minute.
Seraphena's avatar materialized in the center of the table, surrounded by a three-dimensional map of the island chain they were operating in. Red dots marked confirmed trafficking facilities. Yellow dots marked suspected locations. The number of yellow dots had tripled in the last two hours.
"Intelligence summary," Zeph said, nursing what had to be his fourth cup of coffee since returning from the operation.
"Give me the version that won't take an hour."
