“TeZarron, they are about to hit Engineering.”
TeZarron stopped and turned to Jonal, with the immediate realization that the young Admiral had pushed through the mind lock.
::Tonas, evacuate Engineering near lightslip wall!:: Jonal shouted.
“Engineering Report, Alpha Alert, imminent boarding…” He began shouting more orders as additional snippets of his clairvoyance seeped through the mind lock.
“Saxon, Lunas, Report from the Bridge. You have additional Warriors, f*****g use them!”
“Anya, Mark, get to the Med Bays, expect a large influx of casualties.”
Jonal turned and paced back to the dais. “Juraens,” he snapped into the communicator, “Find Septis and haul his ass to the Brig. We’ll deal with him later.” Tonas was the planner, Jonal, the crisis manager. This was a crisis. There was
