The uniformed men stared straight ahead, unmoving and intent adding to the air of nervous anxiety in in Command Room Four. Eyes trying not to flex or blink as Assistants scuttled about handing out various papers in a silent ballet of bureaucracy.
The anxiety is what is created on these types of projects when science needs government and government needs military because they all need funding and no one is really sure who has the ultimate decision because that would mean they owe the ultimate responsibility and no one wants to answer to that.
The last report is what they referred to the message as because no one wanted to call it the final report. It played on the main monitor over and over as if in repetition something new would be heard or seen some clue or inkling as to why the report ended abruptly. So clue or inkling as to what was going on because neither military government or silence really knew what to do next.so they all waited with baited breath fussing with dials and keyboards ticketty ticking amidst the high pitch squeals and low pitched hums of the frequency's and waves which chummed through space creating a surreal orchestration that sounds like the universes breathing.
"sending team out to surveillance point to retrieve drone 47" followed by static and then a secondary intercept message between Triton Base 3 and the Out team " or a sandstorm..." followed by static and the intermittent sound of hail or.... gunfire?
That was the message being played from all speakers on constant loop for the last 45 minuets' in Station Command.
