[Location: Corvane Expanse — Designation Pending]
[Altitude: Low Orbit]
[Gravity: 1.04G Standard]
[Temp (Surface): 41°C, Dry]
The transport held steady in low orbit, engines idling on a whisper-quiet setting Kelvin had personally calibrated for exactly this moment, and through the small viewport the target world hung distant and unbothered below, a dull rust-colored curve wrapped in thin, hazy atmosphere, giving nothing away.
Angel stood at the head of the cabin, fully suited, checking her sidearm a second time out of habit rather than doubt, the kind of small ritual soldiers built for themselves to keep their hands busy in the last quiet minutes before everything changed.
"Recon element," she said. "Confirm gear."
Sera ran a hand down the length of one wing, feathers settling smooth against the plating Faithful Feathers had folded itself into for atmospheric entry. "Ready."
"Comm check."
"Five by five," Sera answered.
