An unplaceable noise escaped the Commander-in-Chief of Orange Star's armed forces. Somewhere past disappointment but far from resignation, Nell repeated it as she hung her briefcase over a swivel chair in the bustling command center. She set her violet cap onto the chair's counter and subconsciously swept a lock of blonde hair from her purple buttoned outfit.

Nell coolly inspected those within the room. Uniformed personnel shuffled back and forth, handling papers and documents, chatting on phones and examining printed readouts. The sheer numbers of military employees made the room seem much smaller than it actually was. It housed three rows of computer banks, twenty-one machines in all, each busy with a seated, engaged operator. All faced an enormous series of fixed monitors, set against the far wall in perfect alignment. An array of charts, maps, and numbers cluttered each screen. To a layman these figures would be unintelligible, but for Commander-in-Chief Nell they were the very lifeblood of her occupation.

While Nell kept her composure in front of the staff, the intelligent mind behind her smooth face worked ceaselessly. She'd just come from a meeting with the President himself, offering him a set of best- and worst-case scenarios and possible war strategies for the conflict with Green Earth. Predictably, he'd expressed his preference for the most middle-of-the-road option, though the ultimate decision lay with Nell. She didn't mind the current resident of the Central Office – he was a well-meaning man, somewhat acceptable to all parties – but he was still bound by politics and promises. The war hadn't escalated enough to force him to commit to one extreme or another. At least, it hadn't before Yellow Comet's de-facto entry. Yet he still dithered, unsure of the best possible course.

He would come around in time, Nell knew. The current official stance was that Green Earth was attempting to browbeat Orange Star into concessions. It was too early into the war to determine if they were succeeding. They'd taken the Omega Land forces by surprise, but in Cosmo Land even Admiral Drake's navy was ponderous and slow-moving, and Orange Star's presence in the West Moon Sea was considerable. However, these factors did not make things easy, Nell silently admitted. Drake was not the most famous naval commander in the world for nothing.

Macro Land had little to worry about, for now. The Orange and Green territories were separated by over a thousand kilometers of open sea. Yellow Comet was much closer, but there was time to prepare. Reinforcements were already undergoing mobilization in Macro.

But Nell knew that all hell could break loose at any point. Squadrons of long-range bombers were constantly ready to engage in sorties over Green Earth military installations and, if it came to it, population centers. The thought was not encouraging. Total war had not entered the equation yet, but modern politics were a fickle thing. At any point Serlin and Ulms could begin trading airborne explosives by the payload.

Nell multitasked, reviewing the strategic situation while absorbing the information on the crystal-clear monitors. It was a valuable skill that one could not survive without when confronted with a dozen important decisions each minute. All the while she signed off on several documents, only giving each a fraction of her attention. Bureaucracy was tedious, but in some ways it was what separated them from the likes of Blue Moon.

More staff members came and went, and she engaged in one- and two-sentence conversations with them, issuing orders to relay this and that. All normal. There was little reason to become worked up and overstressed, when a calm attitude sufficed.

Another individual moved to speak with her. This new person held no papers to sign, and she was not one of Nell's unofficial messengers. Her insignia told Nell she was a corporal, a strange rank to have in the center.

"Commander, there's a landline call waiting for you in the comm room."

"Who is it from?" Nell asked, diverting her eyes briefly from a clipboard on the counter.

The messenger's eyebrows came together. "Er, ma'am, that's a bit of a problem. Whoever it is refuses to give their identity to the comm staff, and we're having difficulty tracking it. They want to speak with you personally."

Nell sighed. In all likelihood the caller was a misguided, tech-savvy teenager looking to get his kicks by stirring up trouble in the middle of the country's problems. At the worst it was an enemy test of their cyberwarfare capabilities – to see if they could actually gain phone access to one of Orange Star's most heavily protected compounds. While the second possibility was foreboding, Nell was not alarmed. Information security breaches happened even on the best encrypted lines.

She shook her head. "I'm not interested. Tell whoever it is that if they don't wish to reveal their identity over the phone, they are more than welcome to come in person." A feeble attempt at humor, but there were more important things to be concerned about at the moment.

"Yes ma'am, but the caller said you'd say that. Almost word for word, actually."

Interesting. Now this wasn't one of the 'in all likelihood' possibilities. Nell turned to the staff member. "Really? Did they say anything else?"

"Yes ma'am, but it wasn't in the most formal fashion."

Nell smiled reassuringly, hoping to gain the woman's confidence. "That's alright. I'm willing to hear far more than our suited counterparts in the Central Office."

The corporal coughed and tugged at her uniform collar. "Well, he – we assume the caller's a he – said to 'get your pretty little tuckus over to the phone,' and, 'even I don't have all the patience in the world'."

Nell blinked. What a personal method of address. Still, it wouldn't do to exhibit a perverse manner over such a minor item. Her professional experience told her to ignore the call, but her intuition pinged like radar. She wavered for a moment, then picked up her clipboard and nodded. "Alright, I'll speak with this mystery man, if he is so insistent. Let's go."

The woman dipped her head and turned away, leading Nell through the maze of busy military workers. The main comm room wasn't too far, just two or three doors down the hall. As they exited into the corridor, Nell laughed under her breath.

"And Corporal?"

The woman looked over her shoulder. "Yes ma'am?"

"For the record, referring to my 'tuckus' and calling it 'pretty' will not ensure that I come running to solve every little problem. This is a one-time thing."

She smirked. "Duly noted, Commander."

The two reached the comm room and entered. It was considerably less noisy than the command center, but still lively and busy. The corporal led Nell to one particular phone line. Another individual was apparently holding the call. He held out the earpiece.

"Here you are, ma'am. Maybe you can find out who this kook is."

Nell received it and made a silent gesture, wordlessly asking if the call was being monitored. A nod answered. Of course they were monitoring it, Nell knew, but it always paid to be thorough.

She delicately cleared her throat. "This is Commander Nell. I understand you requested to speak with me? You should make it quick."

"Well, darlin', your boys there sure know their stuff, but I had a helluva time convincin' them to let me talk with you. We really should get some sorta two-way redphone, y'know?"

If Nell's job didn't necessitate a constant aura of self-control, she would have probably sputtered on her own breath. As it was, though, she retained her equanimity and smoothly engaged in conversation. "Sir, you're going to have to tell me who you are, or I will be forced to hang up and determine where you are calling from. This is a secure military connection and tampering with it is a federal offense."

"C'mon now, Nell, you know who yer speakin' to. Can't an old friend give ya a holler once in a blue moon?"

That sealed it. She pressed her lips tight, only allowing murmured words to escape, mainly to avoid dropping hints to her employees. "Grit, how did you get this line? And why are you calling? You know damn well–"

"Darlin', you're just gonna have to trust me on this. We fellas have our ways, you know? We're not as backwards as y'all seem to think we are. Now, I've got a couple important things to tell ya, if you can just hold your horses for two bits."

Nell pressed her index finger to her temple. Grit was certainly a character at times, but he never did things without a reason. It behooved her to hear this through. "Alright, but you have two minutes, and not a second more. As much as I would like to carry on with this chat," and despite her tone, that wasn't a lie, "I'm very busy, as you can imagine."

"I'm sure you are, Nell, though if you ask me, y'should just slow down and take yer time on occasion."

"Two minutes, Grit."

The voice on the other end yawned casually. "Right, right. Well, I think – and this is my opinion mind you, the Bearded One hasn't got a clue I'm talking with ya – that y'all should reexamine the whole Yellow Comet deal. I'm right in assumin' you had nothin' to do with Kanbei's buyin' the farm, yep?

"Correct. We don't know where that came from, but it wasn't a sanctioned action by the Orange Star military."

"Mhm, I figured as much. Anyway, I'm sure you saw the broadcast and all. Sonja wasn't part of it, they pulled one of their 'ancient Yellow Comet tradition' things an' she ain't been seen since Kanbei's death."

"That's not unusual. My rudimentary knowledge of Yellow Comet culture tells me that it was just one of their rituals."

"Yea, well, I'm here to say that it's a buncha bologna. Actually, I've got someone else who's more'n expert on it than I am. Just a moment, darlin'."

Shuffling noises obscured more speech for a few moments. Nell waited patiently, but the clock was still ticking. She didn't have this kind of time to waste, even for a friend like Grit.

"Hello? Ma'am? Is this working?"

Another familiar voice, but Nell couldn't quite place it. "Yes, I can hear you. Who is this?"

"This is – er, well, Commander Gr– er, I mean, I'm not supposed to say any names, Commander Nell. Except yours! But I have something important to tell you!"

Nell smiled to herself. It was undoubtedly Colin, the youngest of Blue Moon's commanding officers. "Well, go ahead. We don't have all day," she urged him.

"Yes ma'am! At the Blue Moon Military Academy we spent a month on each of the world's major cultures, including Yellow Comet. And for, well, they said 'reasons of diplomatic conduct,' we covered the imperial family succession rites."

She wasn't following. "Alright, but what does that have to do with Yellow Comet and us?"

"Well ma'am, a lot of the traditional rites aren't really viewed as much in the modern day. Even a princess like Sonja doesn't have to hide herself from public view for three whole days. She could have given that speech to her people."

Hm. Now Nell's interest was piqued. "Go on."

"Well, what I guess I'm saying, ma'am, is that we all know Sonja. Even if her father died she would have given that speech, she's responsible like that. I think – er, we think – something else is going on in Yellow Comet!" Colin's pitch suggested that he could hardly contain his excitement over delivering such important information. Well, it was important to him. Nell would have to further examine and confirm his findings. She stroked her upper lip thoughtfully. Colin was young and still somewhat naïve when it came to the workings of war and international politics, but Blue Moon was home to some of the most thoroughly versed officers in the world. They were trained not only in leadership skills, but also introduced to cultural standards and customs. One of the many characteristics that defined the Blue Moon military was the effort that went into studying all possible enemies in all possible facets of life, in order to discern all possible weaknesses, tactical or intellectual. "That certainly is interesting, I will say that," she said noncommittally, "but it's not much to go off of."

"Er, I know, ma'am, but we felt you should know. This is your war, not ours. I'm going to give the phone back to Comm– er, I mean, well…"

More shuffling. Then the first speaker returned. "That's about it, Nell. This boy remembered the stuff and did some of his own diggin' on the matter. He's turning into a fine officer, I'll say. Now, he knows the facts but I've been doin' some thinkin' on my own. Sonja's a bright girl, and she's got her father's honor too. It just doesn't seem her kinda style to go along with these 'Orange Star agent' shenanigans. She woulda at least tried to figure it out over diplomatic talks with y'all. And she wouldn't go to war without havin' her forces ready to do it. Yellow Comet's got aways to go in gettin' their boys ready for a scrap."

Nell was not surprised in the least as she heard Grit's argument. He was a laid-back individual, never prone to rushing. He thought things through. Nell might have reached the same conclusions, had she the time, but right now her responsibility was fighting, not reasoning. "My first reaction is to agree with you, Grit, at least on a basic level. I'll have to validate all of this, of course, but I trust your judgment. Most of the time."

"Alright darlin'. You go ahead and set your intel guys on that little problem. As for us, I think that's about that. We're gonna cut off here just to be safe. Stay well."

"Thank you Grit. You too."

A click. The line buzzed. For a few moments Nell held the phone to her ear. She contemplated what she'd just heard. It could be nothing, she knew, but it wouldn't hurt to check out Colin and Grit's research. Grit was a good friend, and Colin was well-meaning enough that it probably wasn't a rouse designed to waste Nell's time.

She handed the receiver back to the phone operator. He and the corporal simply looked at Nell. Their expressions belied what was truly working behind their eyes, Nell guessed.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" one of them asked.

Nell exhaled and shifted her clipboard. "Yes, everything is fine. It was just…" She paused. How to explain the conversation to them? They would most likely respond with skepticism.

"It was just an old friend, trying to help."