The Tac Map bathed the operations room in the Fedithe GHQ in an ominous dark blue light.
Suddenly, one of the comms stations switched to speaker.
"Command, 2-2-1 Station. We've got possible leakers. Repeat, possible leakers. Picture shows Bullseye 150 Laythi, heavy. They're pursuing a nearby Zokesian flight, the S&R for the Missing IBC flight."
General Slevoj Berki looked liked he hasn't slept in a few days. His tie was rumpled and his suit was wrinkled, and he had visible bags under his eyes.
"God damn it, get a confirmation on that!", he nearly shouted. His raised voice betrayed his testing nerves. Nearby, a sweating adjutant browsed through a clip board full of reports from the SCOPE PAWS system, the very same one that station 2-2-1 just outside of Laythi was part of.
One of the comms operators readjusted his headset, and began the confirmation process.
"2-2-1 station, command. Confirm leakers. I say again, confirm leakers.", the operator calmly spoke, his fingers grasping the microphone on his headset.
There was a short pause.
"Uhhhhh, command, 2-2-1. Disregard. The leakers didn't pursue the Zokesians into the neutral zone."
General Berki grasped a railing at the top row of the operations room. Sweat was dripping down his forehead.
"God and Wurm damn it all. This business will get out of control. It'll get out of control and we'll be lucky to live through it!"
