Nell allowed herself a moment's rest as she gazed through her office window, looking over Orange Star's prominent capital. The weather was remarkable. The sun beamed down favorably upon Serlin, formalizing a stereotypical late August day. White clouds ambled across the blue sky at a leisurely pace, casting shadowed patterns on the city's jigsaw of steel and glass skyscrapers. Below lay a beautifully designed garden park, Serlin Central. Pristinely cut rows of immaculate grass stretched for almost a quarter of a mile, interspersed with bright stone walkways. Nell noted that the paths imitated marble quite well from her office's height. Forecasts promised a continuation of the wonderful conditions for at least several days more, and for this she was grateful. Foul weather would only serve to bring about just as foul a mood.
The whole visual experience, a lovingly crafted union of man and nature, was transformed into a surreal work of art with the mere addition of remote cannon fire.
Nell breathed deeply. While the idea of ignoring the interruption and salvaging the moment of peace appealed to her, she had precious little time to spare. She returned her eyes her oversized redwood desk. It was home to a powerful desktop computer, a set of carved document vessels, several stacks of neatly piled folders, and a multifaceted telephone. However, there was only one item that concerned her at that very moment: a stapled battle report, set neatly in the desk's center. It patiently awaited her attention, but her shilly-shallying had led to a fleeting admiration of the city's climate. This was the report she both anticipated and dreaded. Not because of its contents, but because of what it signified. The numbers and text within would only provide details to what she already knew: Orange Star forces had scored their first fundamental victory over Green Earth in Omega Land. She was already aware of this success.
No, the most important fact the ten sheets of paper imparted was that this was the line. There would be no going back. No recanting. No negotiations. Orange Star took Green Earth's demands and threw them in the garbage. And then socked the Greens in the jaw.
It was a foolish fear, more foolish than hesitating in the face of the unknown, for Nell fully recognized this obstacle. Before there had been some glimmer of hope that the war with Green Earth could be staved off with talk and politics. Now that hope had vanished behind the persuasive voice of the armed forces. The far-off pounding of naval guns, so close to Serlin, underlined reality. Total war was inevitable.
Perhaps this reflection crumpled any final barriers of irrationality within Nell's psyche. She wasn't quite sure. As Orange Star's Commander-in-Chief, she liked to believe that she was a perfectly rational being. Even if she did not always accept such a concept, it was important that her subordinates felt she only acted in the very best interests of the nation. But still, Nell was only human. Just like everyone else.
A human with considerable will, though. The whole internal debate probably consumed less time than it took to pour a glass of milk or start a car. Nell retrieved the bound papers and flipped through them casually. Facts and figures. All vital.
The combatants, it seemed, had been evenly matched. Orange Star's forces consisted of one armored company, one mechanized infantry platoon, and sporadic air support. Thirty Oberons, five Surefields, and five Neotanks. Two squads of infantry, two IFVs. A wing of Dire Wolves and a wing of Hawkeyes.
Green Earth's ground troops had been more numerous, but their supporting airbase several dozen miles distant. Twelve or so Jackals, and a full company of forty Lynx. No infantry. Two Lightning ground-attack aircraft. No relevant air superiority fighters.
Orange Star losses totaled three Surefields and seventeen Oberons, along with one Cornerstone. Green Earth losses were subject to inflated kill reports, but the analysts estimated five Jackals, a score of Lynx, and one Lightning.
An Orange Star victory, with the caveat of heavy casualties. Sixty-three confirmed dead.
No prisoners taken.
Nell ran through the list of officers. Her sister played her usual part as the overarching commander. Sami directed the mechanized infantry. The armor captain, though, was a name she didn't recognize. Odd; Jake was assigned as Fort Iams' primary tank officer. A notation at the bottom, however, explained that Jake had suffered minor injuries and was unable to lead. Hm. As long as he was relatively unharmed and very much alive, Nell was satisfied with the results. Orange Star's troops successfully utilized combined arms tactics and defeated a numerically superior foe. She expected no less of her protégés.
She flipped through the remaining pages, somewhat disinterested with the finer points. She would sort them out later. As she set the finalized report down, she stood from her executive's chair. A knock sounded on her office door.
"Come in."
The door opened. Nell looked to the newcomer and recognized her as the familiar corporal. She smiled cordially. "Good afternoon, Corporal. How are you today?"
A faint smile returned. Nell wished to maintain a friendly yet formal atmosphere in her working environment, and if the corporal's reaction to her greeting was evidence, then she was succeeding. "I'm fine Commander, thank you for asking. I would pose the same question in return, but…"
"Oh, I know," Nell accepted as she shook her head. "Life is never sprightly when one is the Commander-in-Chief of a nation at war." She looked over her shoulder briefly, in search of her violet cap. Ah, on the windowsill. She moved to retrieve it. "What brings you here?"
The woman stepped into the room, keeping one foot in the door. She probably had somewhere to be. "Commander Andy sent me. You couldn't be located, and he feels it is unsafe to remain on headquarters' upper levels, with the Green Earth navy so close."
Andy. A well-meaning young man, and he was correct in this case. Protocol dictated that Orange Star's chief officers remove themselves from vulnerable quarters in times of war, out of precaution. Nell was very much familiar with that particular code, but she had a few items to clean up and paperwork to gather. She hadn't intended to stay as long as she did, though. For her, the office was homely. Cozy, even. A place of refuge in troubled times.
"I was just leaving, actually. But I appreciate his concern." Nell collected the report and tucked it away in her briefcase, and then rounded the desk. The corporal politely held the door for her, but Nell stopped mid-pace. She took one last look around her office. It would be quite a while before she could safely return. Pity, but duty calls. Nell nodded to no one in particular, and turned to exit through the proffered door.
The two traveled briskly down the hallway, as any military personnel would. Their swift, efficient strides led them to the main elevator bank, and Nell lightly pressed the down button. Headquarters was surely busy, but within a half minute an unoccupied lift welcomingly opened its doors. Now the corporal selected the proper button. Level D. Four floors below ground.
Nell's stomach flipped as they plummeted through the building's core. Truthfully, she hated elevators, especially those belonging to headquarters. They moved too fast and too sudden. Serlin HQ boasted the fastest lifts in the capital, though Nell thought it was an inane characteristic to be proud of. The structure itself only rose twelve stories. Hardly a skyscraper in comparison to the city's numerous corporative enterprises.
Before long, though, the cable-hauled box slowed and came to a final rest. The metal doors parted to reveal yet another featureless hallway. Nell stepped out first.
"Where was Commander Andy when he sent you?"
"The comm room, ma'am. That's where I'm headed as well."
Normally Nell did not have business in the communications center, but this was the second time in recent memory that necessity drove her there. It wasn't far, just a few meters down the hall.
As she opened the door, loud chatter assaulted her ears. The staff within industriously related messages to and fro through their oversized headsets and computer terminals. Nell immediately missed the damping effect of the underground's concrete walls. One can't have everything, though. Oh, the sacrifices she made…
"Nell! Hey, Nell!"
She looked over. Andy's solid red work clothes provided an amusing disparity in the sea of military green and tan, as did his buoyant character. In one hand he held a folder. He grinned widely upon Nell's entrance and waved.
Nell couldn't help her smile. The young, mechanically-inclined CO almost always exhibited a cheerful attitude. It complemented his age well, and those under his direction were often quite happy to be there. Despite his overtly positive approach to life, though, he possessed a keen knowledge of battlefield tactics, and Nell could always count on him to strive for his objective with all the dedication in the world. Even if he forgot some details along the way.
She crossed the room. "Hello Andy. How's your day going?"
"Great, so far." His grin faded slightly. "Well, I guess it could be a lot better. I don't like fighting friends."
Nell sighed. "I don't find it any more affable than you do," she agreed. "Still, it doesn't mean we can't give it our all." She rested one hand on her hip and surveyed the staff. All busy, all attentive to their respective tasks and machines, each supremely proficient. They provided commanders like her and Andy with the information they required. Still scanning the room, she asked, "What brings you here? How is your task force fairing?"
Andy tilted his head and scratched at his dark brown hair. "Eh, the West Moon Fleet's taking a lot of damage. The Nelson is in for repairs, and I just got word that the Jack James carrier group got hit by the Green Earth Air Force. I think they're coming back to drydock too." But he beamed up to Nell regardless. "I'll be overseeing the repairs myself, though, so both'll be back to ship shape in no time!"
Nell groaned mildly at his pun and shook her head. Nothing if not enthusiastic… "I know you won't worry yourself over the losses, but just keep in mind, it's to be expected. Drake's navy is peerless." She glanced sidelong to Andy. "Though having a mechanic on call is certainly beneficial when fighting a defensive war."
"Thanks, Nell." He didn't bother referring to her as ma'am or commander, and Nell didn't dwell on it. She'd known the young man for several years, and she was comfortable with such casual exchanges.
"There's something else." Andy's tone dropped, the change almost unnoticeable. Nell picked up on it easily. Despite Andy's perpetual optimism, she could tell when he had serious information to deliver. This was one such case. The younger CO offered his folder to her.
Nell accepted it wordlessly and flipped it open. It contained a series of glossy monochrome photographs, and by themselves they were nothing special. Most military intelligence photos circulated in similar format. As Nell took a closer look, Andy continued.
"I know you can tell, but they're satellite. That's Omega Land, Yellow Comet territory. The Trepidial Sea. The first picture is from yesterday."
She examined the designated piece. A large inlet from an unlabeled sea spread over the west side. Angular patterns dominated the center. A port town, or a naval base. Nell considered the nature of the photographs and guessed the latter.
"The next shot was taken this morning, by the same satellite. It's the only one we have that orbits over that base," Andy explained. He shrugged. "That's what your intelligence people said anyway."
Nell shuffled the pieces and brought up the next one. It covered roughly the same area, but within the bay were ships, their discolored wakes revealing their identities. A fleet. Not a very large one, though. Nell thumbed through the rest of the folder's items. They were styled differently, and the cornered dates marked them as older by several years. Probably just inserted to be thorough. She touched a finger to her lips and thought out loud, "Interesting..."
"Yea! That's what I said." Andy palmed his neck and grinned sheepishly. "But I really didn't get them. I figured you'd understand them a lot better than I do, Nell."
She closed the folder and handed it back. "That's fine. Thank you for bringing these to my attention, at least."
"What do you make of it?"
She wished she had a solid answer, but a feasible explanation escaped her. She shook her head. "It's hard to say. That Yellow Comet fleet looks relatively small, and mostly comprised of landers. Minimal escorts. It could house anything from several platoons to a pair of companies." She drew up numbers in her head, based on the most recent reports of Omega Land's troop strength. Rachel's forces were strained, but there were still units in the northern continental regions, dealing with Green Earth and some minor Yellow Comet pieces.
What puzzled her, though, that this was hardly an efficient use of Yellow Comet's navy. They were still marshalling their forces in Omega, and it would make more sense to await those preparations and embark en masse. One or two companies would not turn the tides, especially if blatantly announcing their departure to watching satellites. The Comets weren't stupid. They knew the extent of Orange Star's space-borne surveillance network. So why are they making such boldfaced movements?
If Andy caught on to her train of thought, he didn't express it. "Do you think they're up to something?" he asked, his voice bearing curiosity rather than concern.
"I don't know," she murmured. "It's clear they have a plan. This fleet's relocation spells something…" She couldn't put a word to it, other than strange.
Nell's deliberation was severed by a telephone's loud, out-of-place ringing. She looked about, as did Andy, for the source of the disturbance. Her eyes rested on one device in particular: a nondescript, plain red satellite phone, used for overseas communication.
The same one Grit had tapped through to contact her.
The corporal, who'd wandered off to attend her own business, took the initiative and ended the machine's obnoxious racket. She brought the earpiece up and spoke. "Serlin comm center."
For a few brief moments she appeared to listen intently. Nell watched her for a reaction. There was only the grooving of her brow as seconds passed. Then, without saying anything further, she held out the device to Nell.
"Ma'am. It's your friend," she said, frowning. "I'm sorry about this. The technicians tried to re-encrypt the lines, but it looks like it didn't work…"
Nell's expression solidified. Grit again? Professionally, the continued disruptions of her duties were becoming a nuisance, but as before, she knew his communiqués were never frivolous. Not in wartime. Recalling yesterday's vague-yet-significant conversation, Nell bid the phone and received it.
"This is Nell," she started simply. Just in case…
The precaution was unnecessary. Grit's drawl was disjointed in comparison to Nell's everyday dialogues. "'Lo there, Nell. Your guys just can't wrap their heads 'round my calls, can they?"
"No, I suppose not." She avoided calling Grit by name; it would only serve to create questions among her subordinates. "I will hand it to you, though; you have them running in circles."
Grit laughed once. "I reckon I do, darlin'. Say, I heard the weather over there's mighty nice. I've got some leave stashed away, an' the Bearded One wouldn't miss me, that's for certain. Maybe I'll wander over to Orange Star. We could catch up-"
"Grit," she interjected, forgoing her earlier taboo, "I'm sorry, but I honestly don't have all the time in the world. I'm busy. We're busy. The Green Earth navy is at our doorstep and we're struggling to hold them off as it is. If you have something to say, please say it. I have things to address and places to be." As abruptly as she'd begun, Nell finished her short-lived rant. She hadn't meant to mouth so aggressively, but even she was starting to feel the weight of her responsibilities.
Grit, however, only chuckled. "I know, I know. You've got a lot on yer plate, and your little war ain't fightin' itself. Believe it or not, I'm not just lazin' about, phoning you 'cause it strikes my fancy. Makin' my last call was harder than finding the grub itself. I don't want you to think I'm yanking yer chain."
Nell rubbed her forehead. I know you aren't, Grit. I'm sorry for my outburst. It was what she wanted to say. What she should've said, to a good friend. But her patience was rapidly thinning. "Ok. Alright. I'm listening."
"Thankya. Now, as you mighta guessed, I dug up some new info concerning the Comets." He cleared his throat, presumably in preparation. "You said that yer special forces people didn't have a thing t'do with Kanbei, and I believe you on that point. The problems is, though, you can't really prove it. An' even if ya could, it wouldn't rightly matter. They're bent on fightin' a war one way or another."
"Yes, we know. They've essentially refused all offers of diplomacy."
"Uh huh. Here's the kicker, though. Rumor has it they've actually got an Orange Star feller they're pinnin' the blame on."
So, they found a scapegoat. An interesting but not unexpected event. Nell mulled over the implications of Grit's news and formulated a question. "Is this individual an Orange Star citizen they've seized, or an expatriate?"
"I'm afraid I dunno the answer to that one, Nell. My source is pretty deep, but even they don't know all th' niceties of this scuffle. I'm sure you can plan for it either way."
True, she could. She would have to. If the individual was a tourist, then Orange Star would have all the more reason to throw everything they had at the Comets. If they were a former citizen that relocated to Yellow Comet, then their assertions of state-sponsored terrorism would be politically baseless. That wouldn't stop the war, but it would give Blue Moon and other minor nations a reason to stay out of the conflict.
A third possibility surfaced between these two ideas, one that was remote but foreboding. What if Emperor Kanbei had truly been killed by an Orange Star citizen, outside the government's authority? On his own, using his own methods? That would leave the country in a precarious international position, especially if the plotter claimed ties to the OSA in a crazed, desperate statement. There was no telling what methods Yellow Comet's Inner Ministry used to extract information from him.
Nell filed these considerations away for later examination and refocused on the present. "Grit, I have another question. Where are you getting these reports? Does Blue Moon have a high-level spy in the YC government?"
Grit chortled again, entertained by his intentionally vague deliveries. "Now that'd spoil all the fun, wouldn't it darlin'? I give you credit for tryin', but you know I can't comment on the matter. Loose lips sink ships, an' all that."
Worth a shot. "I'd say your lips have been pretty loose already, with everything you've give us so far."
"You'd be surprised. I may or may not know a sight more'n I'm lettin' on to, but for obvious reasons I can't say everything the BMIO's scrounging up. National security, as the Bearded One of'n remarks."
A pregnant pause. Nell didn't quite know what to say next, beyond thanking Grit for his help once more. She was piecing together some sort of grateful response when he spoke again.
"And Nell… I'm sorry 'bout Max." He sounded quite sincere over the phone, a departure from his carefree nature. "I can't imagine our Green friends givin' him his last meal and smoke, but it's a shame nonetheless. I hope he comes outta this like he went in. Life just wouldn't be the same with a different Maxie boy around."
Nell smiled sadly. Grit was a truly well-meaning fellow. She knew he hated seeing his colleagues at odds, in danger. His concern touched her deeply. "Thank you, Grit. I hope the same. Time will only tell."
A muffled breath. "Aww, possum spit. I'm gettin' all teary eyed just talkin' 'bout him," he admitted with a shaky laugh. "Sometimes I get a bit nostalgic over the good ole days, when we were all Orange Star. But I'll never say I regretted my swappin' sides. I had my reasons then an' I still do now."
Nell pondered Grit's mild confession. Perhaps it was true, that he did not lament his defection to Blue Moon, but Nell couldn't help but wonder if Grit's aid wasn't impelled by some desire to compensate for it. Perhaps an informal act of apology to Nell, and Orange Star as a whole. She was tempted to ask, but she refrained. Now was not the time.
"Again, Grit… thank you for your help. When this is over, maybe we can all get together and reminisce about those 'good old days'."
She waited for his reply. None came. Nell frowned. "Grit? Are you there?" Nothing. Did he hang up? That was sudden. Maybe he needed time to deal with the reality of it all. More likely, some external force prompted him to end the call prematurely. According to his own words, Olaf was entirely unaware of his communications with Orange Star, and Grit probably wanted to keep it that way. Whatever the explanation, she was sure it was justified.
As she returned the phone to its cradle, the corporal eyed her warily. Andy, however, spoke first in excitement.
"So that was Grit? How's he doing? What'd he want?" He seemed genuinely thrilled to hear from the Blue Moon CO, even via a secondhand talk with Nell.
"He seems to be fine," Nell told him. She looked between him and the corporal. The latter seemed confused and unsure about what had just taken place. Nell could hardly blame her. She lowered her voice. "And as you've guessed, Corporal, our informant is Commander Grit of Blue Moon. I would appreciate if you did not discuss this information with anyone else." She hardened her gaze. "I would very much appreciate it."
The corporal nodded, both visibly satisfied with Nell's answer and in confirmation of her orders. "Yes ma'am, I understand. Mum's the word."
There was no reason to doubt her sincerity. Nell glanced about. Those within earshot of the low words were focused on their tasks, thick headphones blotting all outside commotion. Good. She had no wish to individually explain to eavesdroppers the imperative secrecy of the matter. She looked to Andy again.
"The same applies to you as well. Nothing to anyone, except persons under my direct jurisdiction."
Andy, however, simply grinned and threw a half-sincere salute. "You've got it, Nell."
"Excellent. Now that we-"
"Commander." The interruption came from her left. A uniformed man stood in the doorway, eyes set on Nell. She hadn't even noticed his entrance. Immediately Nell interpreted his gaze, his stance, and his tension. His free hand was balled into a fist, and the glint of perspiration on his face suggested, at the very least, mild fret. All of these items gave her enough reason to divert her attention.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
His eyes shifted about the room, but not as though he was in search of something. Then they returned to Nell. "You'd better come with me, ma'am." Nothing else. No basis for his demand. His wording formed a request, but his pitch did not. For a lower-ranked officer to address her in such a way…
Nell glanced at the corporal one last time, nodding in dismissal. Then she motioned to Andy. "Let's go. We'll discuss your photographs in a minute."
As she moved to the hall, Andy tagged along behind. The man stood out of her path as they both exited the comm room. The officer shut the door and turned to walk up the corridor, remaining at Nell's side.
"Commander, I apologize for pulling you from your work, but we have something of a situation."
Their direction implied he was headed for the command center. Something had happened, something big enough to warrant his out-of-place conduct. Nell attempted to stifle the web of possibilities that sprung up in her mind. "Go ahead."
"Not a minute ago, one of our satellites ceased functioning. We're not sure exactly why, but SatTech concluded it wasn't a malfunction. It's a relatively new machine and it's been up there for a couple months with no troubles."
Nell preserved herself while she internally picked apart the officer's statement. An inactive military satellite threw a wrench into the process of strategic decision-making. Another could be launched, but preparations would take weeks at best, and at a price tag that would run into the billions. "Was it micrometeorite damage?" she asked.
"It's possible, ma'am. Doesn't happen often but it's possible. SatTech's looking into that right now."
"Which sat was it? What region did it survey?"
"Eastern Omega Land, Commander. Everything from Dorton to the Trepidial Sea."
Trepidial Sea. Why does that name ring a bell-
Then she remembered Andy's photographs. The Yellow Comet fleet, departing from its port with only three or four hundred soldiers. They would inevitably cross that sea.
…was it possible?
A disquieting sensation found its way into her heart, and Nell picked up her pace, overtaking the officer. "We have to consider the option that this wasn't an accident or random chance. It's too convenient, too opportune." The command center was fast approaching. "I want you to get a hold of SatTech again and tell them that."
The man tried to match her speed. Andy's boots clattered behind them, bringing up the rear. "What are you saying, ma'am? That our satellite was taken out by the enemy?"
She looked over her shoulder. "I'm saying it's not impossible. We need to be prepared for anything."
"But the Greens don't have that kind of technology. Neither do the Comets. Hell, even we're struggling to come up with a method for neutralizing spacecraft."
"Green Earth may not be Black Hole, but don't put it past them. They can be just as clever."
The man's face set as stone. "I sure hope not, Commander. This war's not gonna end anytime soon. We can't go losing sats left and right."
She understood his worry quite clearly. One thing after another was cropping up, hindering Orange Star's efforts to defend itself properly. So far, most of Green Earth's actions had been predictable. In line with standard military doctrine… other than the initial Omega Land HQ assault, of course. If it turned out that they, or Yellow Comet, were responsible for the satellite's debilitation…
The trio passed through the command center doorway. Nothing seemed out of place. The level of commotion was average. The only real difference was on one of the walled computer screens; instead of showing standard numbers or a video feed, it presented only white static.
Nell pointed to the aberrant display. "Is that it?"
"Yes'm. Photoreconnaissance satellite HK-12-5."
She approached the closest computer bank and set both hands down, leaning forward. "Was it running when it went offline?"
"Well, yes, Commander. They're always-"
"No," she said, cutting him off. "I'm sorry, I wasn't clear. Was it surveying when it went offline?"
The officer opened and closed his mouth. He didn't know, that much was comprehensible. But he offered no excuse, instead moving to another staff member and speaking with him for a moment. Then he turned back to Nell.
"Yes, it was. 12-5 had just begun its sweep, so we weren't monitoring it yet."
That was all she needed to know. "Bring up whatever video you have. I want the last thirty seconds or so."
The officer again spoke with his compatriot, and the second man turned to the closest terminal, taking a seat and tapping out a series of commands. His fingers flew dexterously over the keyboard, and before long, he fulfilled Nell's request. "Here you go."
A single depression of the ENTER button altered the once-white monitor. Nell watched intently. For a few seconds it went dark, but then a stunning, black and white image of the earth from two hundred miles up filled the high definition screen. 12-5's last footage only caught a small fraction of the planet's surface, but it was still humbling. The landscape, entirely natural, rolled gently past, streaks of clouds obscuring the picture every so often. It was almost mesmerizing. Nell had seen real-time photo-surveillance in the past, but those experiences did nothing to dampen the effect.
The last ten seconds of the chosen piece counted down in the bottom left corner. At around the five second mark, a cylindrical mass loomed onto the picture, gradually covering the world's face.
Then there was a flash, and the screen went blank.
The static returned.
An icy ball formed in Nell's stomach. Somehow, someone had taken out HK-12-5. Destroyed it. And the vehicle of its destruction had not been an ASAT missile.
"What do you make of that?" she asked.
For a few moments there was no response. Nell's eyes found the officer again. He was conversing in hushed tones with the computer operator. Debating, even. Swapping options. When they finished, they both looked at Nell.
"Wasn't micrometeorite damage, that's for sure. And now we know it wasn't an ASAT. My friend here agrees with me; this is consistent with a killsat.
A what? "Explain," she demanded plainly.
The officer licked his lips. "A killer satellite. An artificial body inserted into orbit for the purposes of destroying enemy bodies." He shook his head. "The problem is, those sorts of satellites were banned under the ISC agreement, fifteen years ago. The International Satellite Cooperative agreement. It was supposed to prevent nations from putting nuclear weapons into orbit under the pretenses of recon sats. Looks like someone didn't bother upholding their end of the bargain, though."
"How'd they get it up there without our knowing? We monitor launches worldwide. Everyone monitors launches worldwide," Nell professed. "It's impossible to sneak a spacecraft into space."
But he only shrugged, holding up his open hands in apology. "I have no idea, ma'am. We can go back and review records, but I don't know if it'll help. Right now we really should concentrate on stopping any more of our sats from going dead."
Damn it. He was right. They had more pressing concerns. Determining the origin of these new, mysterious killsats would have wait until later. "Right. Right. Ok." She tugged at one earlobe, and even as she did it she recognized the stress that was quickly overcoming her. Overcoming all of them. She breathed in and out, trying to dissipate her clouded thoughts. "First thing's first. Get in touch with SatTech and inform them of the situation. Tell them to take whatever measures are necessary to watch for any more of these killsats, and to avoid them. Then tell them to come up with a list of possible countermeasures. I do not have it in mind to sit around and let these things blind us."
"Yes ma'am. I'll get right on that." He saluted and engaged in another conversation with the technician. Nell only watched the white, static screen. She peered into it deeply, as though it held the answers she sought.
Andy walked up next to her, following her gaze. He glanced to her, and then to the monitor. "Uhh, Nell… what's going on? I didn't get all that…"
Nell sighed and removed her cap. "Honestly, Andy? I don't get it either," she said. "I don't get any of it."