They continued to consider personnel budgets as they spoke with an area control relay, team leader management, and armed squad officers. Private-affiliation journalist representatives were on hold for authorized releases. They were paid by companies who paid their company; they were the safest, and most reliable.

The ship had a social area with seats, where good sustenance was being provided. Draig was able to make it there, where nobody was really talking to each other because they had so much in focus. At times, it was possible to share a similarly burdened pep smile.

Independent news had also undergone surprising blooms of activity. A wave of leaflets was storming the neighborhoods like trading cards among kids. There were successive generations of speculation on the images playing through the signal windows. Average bored citizens could transform into amazing information diggers. Some of the conclusions seemed to Claymore clearly misleading and reactionary while familiar in tone; as if one hidden source had actually been around a long time, possibly in an official capacity. That wasn’t General Alisandre’s department or current concern. He’d been going through this stuff for a while, though, when someone approached with a communication to ask if he’d slept outside his command center recently. The General made exaggerated shifty eyes, and addressed the communication without answering the question.