The troops shoved Pampaa into the War Room. Low-ranking agents busily worked at several rows of terminals, communicating in hushed voices. Under low lighting, the over-furnished, claustrophobic room felt like the interior of a submarine.
A towering holograph displayed the egg crate apartments in miniature.
Little white dots indicated all the residents. A dozen blue dots presumably indicated the constables on site. Green dots swarmed in. Military assets. A ton of them, platoon strength.
Two red dots were cornered into what appeared to be an apartment bathroom. Pampaa presumed they were Etzli and the Domu.
Two people versus a platoon.
Anger sparked multiple fires in Pampaa's chest. They'd been flaring up ever since he got the call that Etzli had been dragged halfway across the galaxy. The swiftness of it, the coordination of different departments, the ease with which they tore her from her home.
Dozens of green dots quickly surrounded the two red dots.