>> Now playing Mission Log #32...
Initially, the feed seems too corrupted to even tell what’s going on. Images flash across the screen so fast that details fly by. Only a few things come clearly into view.
Sitting across the room from Sloan. Bursting in through a decon door. Solid black helmets on solid black suits. The dragon barn. The walls of a rock face. A starry night. The glow of a hovercore. Disembodied voices speak over each other from each clip — a mass of garbled nonsense through which no singular voice can be distinguished.
For a moment, it snaps into focus.
Solena stands at Oreo’s side in the dragon barn, an unusually cold and dark morning all around them. Her breath forms small clouds in front of her face as she checks each of the straps on her gear one last time, then hesitates, breathing slowly and touching her forehead to his shoulder.
Oreo’s soft coo can be heard, but much louder is the sound of a chair scooting into or out of position somewhere. The sound quality is strange, seemingly belonging to a different clip entirely.
“I understand you have questions,” came the Outrider’s voice. Low. Resonant. Gentle, but not soft. “But Jovis was right. This is Ebonhand business.”
The footage flashes again.
Hovercore. Alison’s face through Wendy’s camera, eyes flicking up towards her. Jovis, in the present, wiping blood from her nose with a grin. Solena sitting across the desk from Sloan. The way the Outrider’s hands steeple themselves as she speaks.
Solena’s voice.
“You’ve kept me in the dark long enough, Outrider. I don’t care what this has to do with the Hand. I want to know what this has to do with Alison.”
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