Navy Nukes Shed Over Missing Lid

I am standing on the command deck of the warship Vengeance as three fleet commanders prepare to flatten a small garden shed. The objective below, zoomed in on the main display, is a single blue plastic lid taken from the kitchen last month.

Four divisions of troops are descending into the moon dust. Heavy guns hum as plasma fire burns away a hedge of thorny plants, clearing a drop zone for eighty thousand soldiers. High Commander Sunita Patel adjusts her white gloves, watching a screen showing a locked door and an old handcart.

The scale of the attack seems absurd until Patel explains the crisis in the officers' kitchen.

"If we do not find the seal for the curry tub, the leftovers dry out in the shared fridge," Patel tells me, her voice flat. "When the curry dries out, Commander Chen accuses Commander O'Hanlon of treason. We lost three heavy ships last week because nobody would pass the salt."

Down on the moon surface, drop pods smash into the dirt. A squad uses a hot cutting torch on the shed door while armed craft circle a compost bin.

The door collapses in dirt and dust. Commander Turei Broughton speaks over the radio: "The lid is red. Repeat, the lid is red. It belongs to a glass dish."

Patel does not blink. She turns to her officer without hesitation. "Target the greenhouse next door. Now we need to find the glass dish to match it."