Several minutes passed while the UPSDF soldiers processed them one by one.
The equipment they carried unfolded into compact scanning platforms and handheld diagnostic devices lined with thin blue displays.
One operative moved methodically between them while another monitored results through a tablet attached to his forearm.
Charles had been checked first.
Naturally.
The moment they confirmed his identity, attention around him subtly shifted.
One soldier scanned his eyes while another pressed a device against the side of his neck, monitoring internal readings.
Charles barely reacted through any of it. He sat slumped against the side of the striker with one wing hanging weakly behind him while dried blood flaked from his collar whenever the rotor wash struck too hard.
Then came Olynk.
He looked worse.
