[hr][hr][center][color=olive][h1]GRAHAM[/h1][/color][b]COMMANDER GRAHAM's OFFICE, NEW ANCHORAGE
[sub]AROUND NOON[/sub][/b][/center]
[hr][hr]
Problem after problem. Issue after issue. 

That was what the last five days had been for Michael Graham— and he wasn’t completely sure how to handle it. In the past three plus decades of work as a NC pilot, commander, and soldier he had never seen such a clusterfuck. In the last ten days, all of the traumatic ambushes and bloody feuds looked favorable compared to the prospect of New Anchorage and Graham was afraid it was only the beginning of a even larger problem; especially if his reports bore any reliability. It all felt too surreal that this tiny outfit in the middle of Alaska was this much of a epicenter of trouble, like he had walked into some sort of harrowing nightmare. He had been a commander for over a decade and he knew how to run facilities without error and he definitely didn’t inspire treason or disloyalty; but then again he had been used to dealing with subsidiary corporations and not independents. 

Graham looked down at his glass of brown liquor before downing it.

[color=olive][i]This is nothing.[/i][/color]

The last ten or so days may have been rough, but they were nothing he couldn’t adjust for despite two blatant resignations from Jan Van Gent and Penny Maverick— resignations that he had to deal with after Alexander Sky’s apparent breakdown and attempt to depose him from New Anchorage. It wasn’t a new experience, in his life Graham had a gun pulled on him several times in several scenarios ranging from casual sittings to battlefield situations, but he didn’t expect it so [i]suddenly[/i] and it had left a minor mark on his psyche. He wondered if more of those hired for New Anchorage were waiting for a chance. It was with that unease that Alvarez had suggested increasing precautions regarding it. 

But despite all of those outcomes he wasn’t going to opt out like a bruised flower who needed everything to go to plan. Life never went according to plan.