“Impact at Epsilon, Theta, Zed… droplet impacts everywhere, sir! It looks like a storm!”
The commander chewed his stem, eyes narrowed as he examined the onscreen map. “Get the bombers rolling,” he barked. “I want acorns hitting the ground on every flight path.” As saplings scattered with the new orders, he turned to the communications desk. “Get word to the pollinators,” he said. “They’ll be worse than useless in the downpour.”
The great petals of the flower-dish rotated, stamen trembling with the newest messages. A whistling sound came from overhead. The commander looked up.
“Pinecones,” he growled. “Duck and cover!”
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