HQ Platoon Assembly Area

The HQ platoon assembles in a windowless armory just off the Operations Room, its high-ceilinged space dominated by rows of locked weapon racks and steel lockers lined with contoured pouches for air filtration masks. Fluorescent battle lights flicker when the klaxons wail, casting harsh shadows over olive-green tactical vests draped over folding chairs. The air hums with the mechanical whine of charging exo-frame servos and the sharp metallic tang of spent munitions cartridges already rolling across the deck. Narrow corridors branch off to barracks bunks and the main lift to the surface, but the platoon clusters here under the watchful gaze of a single holoscreen replaying the ambush feed—a wash of green mist creeping through a narrow choke point, where Captain Rones’ troops already lie slumped in gas clouds. Radio chatter crackles from half a dozen headsets, each voice barking grid coordinates across the battlefield six hundred meters away.