"Take five," he said. "Let's talk."
Zolan pressed a key to save his data, Kumiko rolled up her chart, and Hodak put a marker in the manual. Myra and Adari's charts lay where they were as eyes focused on Brad. The room was cramped, space for moving about was tight.
"We have new orders," Brad said.
Zolan grunted, "Ahh, nuts," and frowned at Brad in disgust. Myra groaned and Hodak spit a sullen blast of profanities. Adari shrugged, and Kumiko gave Brad her sweet so-what-else-is-new smile.
Brad recounted his meeting with Narval and Drummer. So that there would be no misunderstandings among them, he repeated Narval's strategy and instructions, finishing with the new target for the assault. The room was silent.
"Now that we know the construction site is the target we'll use it for working out the details for fleet integration, formation and logistics in place of what we had before," Brad rasped. "Better now than after we've launched and met up with our allies. Not much time, though. We'll be working round-the-clock until it's done, checked out, and space and surface Commanders briefed."
He gave orders rapidly.
"Break out the tactical and support plans we worked up for the Combined Fleet's Order of Battle at the Neptune meeting. Myra, rework your admin and medical requirements. Install two dozen psychic probes on the Dragon. We'll need at least that many to check out the loyalty flip-flops Narval expects when we lay the new target on the INOR Commanders, plus accepting Narval as their new Supreme Commander.
"Draft an order to Scarf for Narval's signature to transfer three hundred of his shock troops from our attack transports to the Dragon, and crank its effects into tactics and logistics. Scrounge up enough certified technicians to operate the probes. That'll still leave about eleven hundred troops to secure the Terminals after we take them, which should be enough. Juggle the tactics for that change. If anyone asks, we're using Scarf's troops on the Dragon as flunkies during the victory party. I don't think you need me to draw a picture of the real reason. We've got to reshuffle the entire logistics deck. Your job, Myra. Got it?"
Myra grunted, raised her middle finger, then quickly realigned it with the rest of her hand and snapped off a mechanical salute.