Two hours and eighteen minutes since the Vengeance Angel Squad landed at the Third Orbital Port.
The Iberian Glory.
The vast, palace-like bridge.
Grand Governor Sedon, who hadn't worn Power Armor for many years since taking office, was now clad in a suit of black-painted Power Armor, its full-coverage helmet bearing the unique skull insignia of the Death Battle Group.
Behind him, thousands of members of the Think Tank, staff officers, and advisors... bustled about ceaselessly.
In the frontline command center further back, tens of thousands of masters from the Military Affairs Department processed, in real-time, the myriad requests flooding in from across the entire Verne Star System warzone.
Ammunition resupply, troop replenishment, battlefield support, casualty processing...
Holy Sheepskin Papers flew from the Radiant Beacon like scattered fireworks. Every minute, tens of thousands of requests for coordination arrived, and tens of thousands of replies were dispatched.
