"I just wanted to tell you the Comm Buoy has been replaced, sir," Private Burbage said from the other side of Colonel Ryder's office door. "You should have access to the extranet again."
"Thank you," the N7 Colonel said. It was not the first time they had lost extranet access, but it felt good to be back in contact with the outside world, a little to brighten his day after fighting and death.
He wrapped up his report on his latest operation, scanning for typos. Of the forty-eight sent, five had died in the fighting (three N1s and two N2s). That was a relatively merciful sum for dealing with Reaper forces, although death was death. Just another few names to be passed into the Alliance databases, a few more mothers mourning in a sea of millions. It was par for the course since the Reaper War had started.
Ryder commanded the planet's regiment of special forces, N1 - N7, just under a thousand soldiers. General Hemlock, the man in charge of protecting human interests on the planet, presided over far, far more.
Tyr was cold place to be stationed, both literally and figuratively. The barren planet's brown surface was -70 degrees Celsius. Tens of thousands of human soldiers were stationed on it, but they were dying defending tele-operated machines, robots, and corporate industrial buildings. They were crucial war assets, but it was not like defending the scared and huddled masses of Earth or its colonies.
His son and daughter had been given very different assignments: Warmer assignments, again literally and figuratively, but he had been unable to check for an update for the past three days with their only link to the extranet destroyed. Last he had heard from them, his son was stationed at an outpost in Africa, after a retreat from Luna, and Sara was leading a squad in New Houston, Eden Prime. The last couple of weeks had been trying for Scott. Sara had been much more fortunate.
Few civilians had ever been on Tyr's surface. Most of those who had had been evacuated or killed by the Reapers since the war broke out. He sat in the office of one of those casualties, in an underground bunker connected to a mine owned by Ashland-Eldfell Energy. Alec had seen the man's name on the wall once, in fancy cursive on a diploma they had since taken down and shipped it to his next of kin. Now he did not even remember it. Nikolai something-or-other, Bachelor's of Science in Hydrogen Fuel Engineering from a presumably prestigious university.
Fixing his last error, Alec sent to report on the local network.
Now it was time to check on his kids, thousands of light-years across the galaxy.
Alec opened his browser. He skimmed the headlines first.
Bogota, Tomsk, and Nanjing Become Latest Earth Cities to Face Reaper Attack
Historic Mosque Destroyed on Bekenstien
Illium's Richest Asari Donates Half of Wealth to War Effort
Then he went for his e-mail.
He was elated to see messages from both his children. He was about to click Re: Checking up when a voice came over his office intercom.
It was Hemlock. "Mr. Ryder, someone important is here to speak with you."