Affinity

Dianna

Dianna stood waiting in the sterile and stark corridor outside the meeting room, surrounded by cold concrete walls that lacked any form of decoration. The Protectorate was not known for its fancy style or creativity. Here, there was no room for second-guessing or estimation. Numbers were everything, and Dianna took pride in her ability to excel in this area. Yet, three days ago, her confidence had been shaken.

As she stood there, taking deep breaths, Weston, a greying veteran in his late 50s, approached. Wisdom lines were etched into his weathered face, and his steady gaze and calm demeanor had long been an anchor for Dianna.

"You've got this," he said, trying to reassure her.

She stood almost as tall as he did, only a couple of inches below six feet, but this was not one of those times when she could use her height as an intimidation tactic. Although poised and intelligent, she lacked the years of experience in dealing with losses that her mentor seemed to carry with ease.

Things had never gone wrong for her before. Not by this much. In her line of work, the margin for error was minute, with devastating consequences. Even then, given the data, she had always been able to make an educated decision with enough room to wiggle. A category four hurricane was something she should have seen coming, miles away, both literally and figuratively.

Dianna's usually sharp green eyes clouded with uncertainty. "What if they think I'm unqualified? I mean, I didn't even get to do my final year at the university. They could take my license-"

Weston placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You uncovered the truth of what actually happened, and that's what matters most. You run the numbers, and I know your answer was the best we could have gotten from any of our top analysts. Have confidence in your work."

His words grounded Dianna, and her posture straightened. "Guess I'll show them the evidence and let them decide."

Weston smiled, pride in his protégé evident. "Exactly. Numbers don't lie, remember?"

Dianna took a deep, steadying breath, smiling back. "Thanks, Weston. You always manage to talk some sense into me."

He winked at her. "Once again, you've got this. I'll be right out here."

She made her way to the front of the room, facing three serious Generals who had come from across Kentauri to make a decision on how the country should respond to the Tarzar incident. She winced when she saw General Lenishkov, warden of the eastern territories, scrolling through her staff file. He had not even looked up when she entered.

She cleared her throat.

"I understand that based on the destruction of the northern border outpost, everyone expects retaliation in response to a potential attack on our country," she began, cutting straight to the point. "However, before you make any decisions, you need to know exactly what happened, and what you should do."

"Our decision will be our own," General Lenishkov said, still flipping through her file, this time at one of her past risk analysis reports.

"A Scout team sent out to the northern outpost reported a Blood storm, about a week into their arrival," Dianna explained, tapping the table they sat around. A 3D projection of heavy clouds, high trees, and the northern outpost appeared in the air. "Blood storms are common in the area due to the warm oceans and high humidity. All simulations predicted that the outpost was not in any danger. Even so, the shield cores around Tarzar were activated in case of anything."

"If the storm started to grow in size and speed, the protocol was to evacuate the outpost and to activate the shields, which would take enough of the hit that most of Tarzar would be safe." Dianna continued, creating a wall of light around the outpost to match the perimeter shields. "This did eventually happen, but the hurricane grew and changed direction faster than we predicted."