**Captain Nolan's Log, Supplemental**
**Discovery, Bridge recording**
**37 days after Rothgard's Fall**
Every whisper from the green becomes thunder from above.
The rear of the bridge was bathed in the cold blue glow of the holo-table, its light casting long shadows across the faces gathered around it. Red markers continued to bloom across the planetary map like fresh wounds. Each new cluster pulsed faintly as fresh data streamed in from the infiltration teams still moving through enemy territory. The soft chime of incoming reports punctuated the low, steady hum of the bridge.
A.L.I.'s voice remained calm and precise, yet the weight of her words pressed against the air. "Latest ground reports confirm active Mana crystal storage nodes near the Atlantian capital's southwest dock works. Recommending a minimum of four Switchblade strikes on the primary storage facility. Secondary munitions package allocated for the reinforced berths. Projected structural collapse: seventy-eight percent within the first two passes."
Commander Voss stood rigid, her secure tablet in one hand as her fingers moved rapidly across the surface. Her eyes flicked between the tablet and the holo-table, sorting and prioritizing with clinical speed. "Ground teams are feeding clean separation between military infrastructure and civilian zones," Voss said, her voice low but edged with tension. "I'm marking the eastern slum approaches as restricted for now. Too many displaced locals. If we hit the docks too hard, the spillover could be catastrophic."
Princess Jasmine's gaze remained fixed on the cluster of red dots near Rothguard. Her voice was quiet, but it carried a sharp undercurrent. "And Rothguard? The new military dock and the supply stockpiles… they are feeding the Imperia's western push. If we strike there, we strike at the heart of their occupation." A.L.I. responded without hesitation. "Rothguard military dock has been flagged as a Tier-One target. However, ground team reports indicate a high civilian presence in adjacent warehouse districts. Precision munitions recommended. Collateral risk remains elevated."
Nolan stood slightly back from the table, arms crossed, watching the shifting map and the people around it. He could feel the bridge tightening around him like a drawn bowstring. Officers spoke in clipped, professional tones at their stations. Data streams scrolled across consoles. Every new red dot that appeared seemed to make the air thicker with tension. He let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking. "How reliable is the separation between military and civilian zones in Atlantia?" Nolan asked, his voice steady. "If the ground teams are still moving, we're making strike decisions on incomplete pictures."
Voss glanced up from her tablet. "It's the best we have right now. The teams are feeding on what they can see. We either act on it or we wait and risk losing the window." Jasmine's fingers tightened on the edge of the holo-table. "Waiting means more of my people are marched into those docks in chains. Every hour we hesitate, the Imperia grows stronger on stolen ground."
A.L.I. spoke again, her tone unchanged. "Current strike package can be adjusted. However, reallocating assets from Atlantia to Rothguard will reduce overall coverage across all active zones by approximately twenty-three percent. Decision required within the next eleven minutes to maintain optimal launch windows." Nolan studied the map in silence for several seconds, the red clusters pulsing like a living thing. He could feel the weight of every dot—every risk taken by people on the ground who were counting on the sky to answer.
In the primary hangar bay far below, the full squadron of FS-64 Switchblades sat in their launch cradles under harsh white lights. Ordnance teams moved with focused urgency, loading precision-guided munitions and running final diagnostics on sensor arrays and targeting systems. The sleek, forward-swept fighters gleamed as fuel lines disconnected and armor panels were secured.
Deeper in the ship, inside the simulator complex, Raptor Squadron ran coordinated attack runs. The pilots' voices remained calm and professional over the internal channel, but the tension beneath was unmistakable. "Raptor Lead, this is Two. I'm seeing overlapping sensor coverage on the southern dock approach. Adjusting to come in over the water at fifty meters."
"Copy, Two. Stay low. Use the wave clutter. Raptor Four, confirm your egress vector after the Mana storage strike."
"Four confirmed. Breaking east over the jungle after release. I'll be vulnerable for six seconds on pull-up."
Valerie's voice cut through the chatter, steady and precise. "Raptor Squadron, maintain spacing and timing. We hit the primary Mana nodes first. Secondary dock targets only on my mark. No heroics. Get in, put the munitions where they belong, and get out. Good work so far. Stay sharp." Back on the bridge, another cluster of red dots appeared near the Gnome border. A.L.I. updated the display instantly. "New high-value node confirmed along the Gnome supply corridor. Recommending two additional Switchblades for that package."
Voss exhaled slowly through her nose, still sorting data on her tablet. "We're reaching the limit of what we can strike simultaneously without spreading ourselves too thin. We need to choose." Nolan finally spoke again, his voice quiet but carrying the full weight of command. "Then we choose carefully. Prioritize what cripples them the fastest while keeping our people on the ground alive long enough to see the results. A.L.I., prepare three primary strike packages. Voss, flag anything that looks like a trap or an overcommitment. Jasmine…"
He turned his head slightly toward her. "…tell me if any of these targets will break more than just their machines." Jasmine met his eyes, the blue glow of the holo-table reflecting in her gaze. "All of them will," she said softly. "But some will break their will faster than others." The bridge continued its quiet, relentless rhythm around them. Below, the Switchblades waited in their cradles. In the simulators, Raptor Squadron sharpened its edge.
The web was nearly complete. Soon, it would burn.