The storm arrived not with soft crescendo, but with the savage abruptness of a slamming door. The night was clear and cold one moment, and next the wind was howling round Lupus Haven like a living thing, whipping curtains of ice rain onto the mountain. The Grey Council's "suggestion" was a disaster.
Inside the hangar, the sound was a dull rumble. The camouflaged supply vehicle, looking pitifully small in comparison to the raging storm, swayed beneath the lash of a particularly strong gust.
"The Council's definition of subtlety is a little. absolute," Orrin shouted over the commotion, double-checking seals on his black, non-reflective tactical gear. There were no wrenches in sight anymore. His crew packed tiny laser cutters, silenced sonic tools, and an acute awareness of their own mortal
