"Mr. Fates, your coffee is ready."
The wolf looked over his newspaper, slightly annoyed, but smiled anyway at his secretary. "Thank you very much, Miss Elmwood." She came over to fill his white ceramic mug with the hot drink.
William Fates was, simply put, a computer geek. A very rich one, at that, but a computer geek nonetheless. He had dull grey fur, thick glasses, and always wore a collared shirt, slacks, and a necktie. The richest beast on Loamhedge, he had more than a billion dollars in cash and assests, as well owned and founded Macrosoft, the single company that monopolized the entire planet's computer industry.
"Damn, my stocks are down," the wolf muttered to himself while sipping the coffee the mouse secretary had brought him. "I knew I shouldn't have invested in that Network server company."
Over his newspaper, William Fates shouted to his secretary. "Tell Mr. Base that he's fired, and to take his Loamhedge Online crap with him."
"Yes, Mr. Fates. I'll relay the message to him immediately. Would you like some more coffee?"
"Couldn't you have taken the bus or something?" complained Richerd Shanus. "I mean, the observatory is out of way. I'll probably be late for work."
"They're not going to care if you're late," said Amber, "You're usually late anyway, but you're still going to work."
"Look, my work isn't any of your business. Got that?"
When Amber and Richerd got married two years ago, Amber had insisted on keeping her last name. To this Richerd argued about family values and the complications of having two surnames in one family. This all being only a few days before their marriage, it ruined the atmosphere of what should have been the most important day of their lives, and set the precedent for most of the rest of their relationship.
"Sure, but my business has everything to do with your work."
Richerd suddenly slammed on the brakes and growled as another car cut in front of him, sinking his claws into the steering wheel. The badger bared his teeth and growled again as he turned to face an unafraid Amber.
"Don't give me any smart ass backtalk, you hear? My work is my work."
Richerd pressed down on the gas pedal, getting the car moving again. For the rest of the trip, Amber and Richerd exchanged no further conversation. The Shanus badger would occasionally glance over at his wife, however, only to see her sitting stiffly and keeping her gaze forward.
When the grey '97 Sedan Stalker pulled up at the observatory in the hills north of Fastane, Amber stepped out, still silent. Richerd muttered something meant as a goodbye, then drove off hastily. The badgerwife began walking up the paved pathway to the Fastane Observatory with her briefcase and notebook, wiping at her eyes with the back of her paw.
President Hilton stood out on the lawn of the Westlands Capitol Building, dressed in full military uniform. Behind him stood about a dozen prestigious high ranking officers, mostly ferrets.
The cougar commander-in-chief of the Westlands military stood before General Nicklaus Firetail of the Vestio Union in the Northern Regions of the Far East. "Thonk you for this kaind greeting, Meestar Presidant." The fox had a heavy accent and rolled all of his R's.
The President and General Firetail saluted each other. "My pleasure, High General." Turning quickly on one heel, the President led the fox up the steps of the Capitol.
"Vary naice place you hoff heere," commented the fox as he and the president walked through the corridors of the large building to the President's office. The General took careful notice of his trip through the halls of the Capitol Building. "Moch cleener thon the capeetol we hoff bock in the Vestio."
When the two beasts arrived at the Circle Office, President Philip Hilton took a seat in the chair at his desk while the fox general sat in one of the chairs in the front. "So," said the cougar, taking out sheets of paper with the government emblem embossed in black at the top and small type printed on it, "What brings you back to the Westlands so soon?"
"My cantry," said High General Firetail forcefully, "is hoffing some... troble with the enforcements you sent with me lost taime."
The cougar nodded empathically. "I'm very sorry, High General, I apologize. I can-" At that second, the bright red phone on the corner of the President's desk began to ring and the red light on it started to blink. "Sorry, I'll have to get that."
He picked up the phone, then listened. General Nicklaus Firetail picked up a bluejay feather quill pen and turned it over in his paws while he watched the President.
An expression of horror came over the cougar's face and he seemed to mouth words as his jaw lowered and rose. "Yes," he finally said. The President hung up the phone, then stared at it for a few seconds.
"Whot was that all about, Meestar Presidant?"
This startled the cougar, who then quickly replied, "Would you mind calling in one of the Captains just outside the office? I need to call NASA. We have a crisis on our paws."