Inside the tent, the mood was very much different.
It smelled of hot coffee, dust, machine oil, wet leather, and the faint electrical sting of the holographic emitter burning in the middle of the room.
It was also wider than it had first looked from outside, its support poles wrapped in cables and pinned with clipped reports, laminated charts, and red-marked maps of the surrounding territory.
Several radios crackled at once from a side table, each one carrying fragments of distant voices, perimeter updates, and the static-laced complaints of men who had spent too long waiting for nothing to happen.
At the center of it all sat the holographic table.
When Halden activated it, Deathrock bloomed into the air above the emitter in glowing blue and red layers. The projection was different from Hebthej in every obvious way.
