Shooting Star

[Thunderer]

It was approaching closer and closer to Exeter's ground. It was red.

It was past midnight in Chateau d'Or, where the general-governor had just been woken up by a call. The defense protocol was not entirely dependent on her approval, but it was only one ship, so it might have been an emissary rather than an invasion. It had been let through by the orbital fleet, after all, though for some reason the ground was not informed why. Perhaps it was not let through, perhaps the orbital fleet had been destroyed? Still, the governor-general's greatest worry at the time, save the interrupted sleep, was that she would have to hold yet another meeting without having dressed up her hair.

It was still day where the craft had landed. The appearance of a Red Hessian fighter (and this one really was red) at Exeter's very spaceport was not something that would greatly disturb the robust Leeds refugees, who had already seen much worse and who made up most of the planet's population. It was still enough to stiffen their upper lips with passive disapproval and cause them to interrupt their five o'clock tea and look outside. Looking outside was something a Loiner did not have a habit to do, having the climate on Leeds in mind and the fact that whatever was happening outside was rarely worth looking at.

All anti-air defenses present at the spaceport were tracking the lone fighter, ready to fire at any time. It was surrounded by soldiers as soon as it landed. Despite the possibility that this was a terrorist attack and that there could be a bomb on board, the men and women in red BAF uniforms stoically followed the requirements of the service and they all surrounded the craft. All with their rifles set and ready, they awaited who, or what, was to come out. Their orders were to arrest the individual, or individuals, and await the arrival of the governor-general, who would decide what to do next.

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