The Lifer cell operated out of an abandoned mining station on the edge of a rocky plateau, an old Tribunal infrastructure from before Prison World was repurposed, Korvan's intel had said. Stone walls, partial roof, two functional levels. They'd been raiding solo hunters along the eastern hunting grounds for at least two seasons.
Owen, Yalira, Tessa, and Jorik watched the station from a ridge half a kilometer away.
"Count," Owen said.
"Eleven," Yalira murmured. Her amber eyes were sharper at distance than any of them. "Seven on the lower level, four on the upper. Rotating. They've got a watch system."
"Tiers?"
"Mostly Tier 5. Two of them feel stronger—maybe Tier 4 one-star, two-star at the outside. Their leader's the bigger one. The one with the scar across his chest."
"Names?"
"Don't know names. I've heard one of them called Brask. The leader."
Owen filed it. Brask. The big one. Tier 4.
"Plan?" Tessa asked.
