Federated Worlds Embassy, city of McNair, Commitment
Insistent chiming announced an incoming priority comm; it dragged Amos Bichel out of the blackness of sleep. The man responsible for FedWorld field intelligence and covert operations on the Hammer Worlds shook himself awake. Head more or less clear, he answered the comm.
Seconds later he was out of bed, pulling his clothes on with frantic urgency, ignoring sleepy complaints from his wife. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not believe what he had just been told. He shook his head in disbelief. Survivors from the Ishaq? Unbelievable. What on earth would the Hammers do next? They must have a death wish because one thing was for sure: The brown stuff was really going to hit the fan now.
He commed the duty officer back.
“Marty! Are you sure about this?”
The duty officer’s voice left no room for doubt. “Boss, I’ve been through it ten times,” he explained patiently. “It’s clear as day. There are survivors from the Ishaq, and they’re here on Commitment.”
“How did they get the message out?”
“Followed standard operating procedures. An officer called Helfort did the job. Posted a message on a public bulletin board, using one of our accounts. We check regularly in case there’s anything, but this is a first, I have to say.”
“Right. I’ll be over in five. We’ll go through it one last time to be one hundred and ten percent sure. Then I’ll call the ambassador. Jesus! I don’t think he’s going to be too happy about all this.”