He turned around and slid to the floor. Propping his elbows on his knees, Byron let his head drop against the cold, hard surface of the wall. His energy drained, his mind refused to still. Locking his shields into place, he contained the anxiety that chewed at his thoughts and bore into his heart. Not even the admittance of several more officers elicited a response from him, and he ignored the other men now waiting in the room.
His mind continued to rehash the events leading up to the disrupter shot. Byron berated himself for allowing Bassa’s injuries to occur. After the first disrupter blast crossed their nose, he should’ve jumped to another location. Byron wondered if his navigator sensed his fatigue and selected the evasive maneuver to prevent the overtaxing of his abilities. Teleporti
