Bright's group rounded the corner into the medical bay's main corridor and stopped immediately.
The scene before them was nightmare inducing.
Atheon stood at the center, blood-soaked but protective, clearly having just defended the position.
Vaelith stood to the side with some hooded operatives—the same kind of operatives who'd tried to assassinate Estovia hours earlier.
And between them, the medical bay entrance that Bright's group desperately needed to reach.
"Private Morgan," Atheon said, his voice carrying complex relief. "You're supposed to be secured in the candidate quarters if I remember correctly. What are you—"
His eyes found Estovia, unconscious and bleeding, supported between Duncan and Mara.
"Lieutenant Armand," Atheon said, his tactical mind already racing ahead of his words. "You found her. It's… good to see a familiar face."
His eyes dropped briefly to her injuries. "It would be a shame to lose the sole heir of House Armand."
