Hale said nothing.
A second Sahan officer entered behind him carrying a tray.
Nero smiled. "I always liked you."
"You like being fed."
"Also true."
Hale waited until Nero picked up the coffee before activating the slate. The map rose in layered light over the table: Alamina's southern line in red, Sahan support routes in green, northern advance corridors in pale blue, and several ugly clusters of black marking infection density from last season.
Nero's amusement thinned.
Hale touched the southern ridge. "Sahan units will camp here. Lower ridge, east of Hendick's main line, close enough to reinforce the trench routes but far enough to keep our supply chain independent."
Nero studied the projection. "Water access?"
"Two filtered lines from the western relay and one emergency purification unit."
"Medical?"
"Shared triage with Alamina for mass casualty. Sahan field medics remain separate for pheromone and enigma-related incidents."
