Volo turned his tiny set of metal wings over and over in his hand, each turn setting his nerves just a little bit more on edge. The hand not tinkering with the wings was balled into a tight fist and rested on his thigh, the nails biting a little harder into his skin with every tick of the clock. Every time the door swung open the Keeper's eyes would flicker to the door, his jaw would set, and his heartrate would spike ever so slightly. Today the war would end. But the question of the day... Well, that was just how it would end. And it would depend entirely upon the phonecall that he was presently waiting to recieve.

Volo was not the man in charge. He should not be the man handling this very highly sensitive matter. But he had been requested specifically by the possibly-soon-to-be-ally enemy, and to refuse such a request would be to completely turn down any chance at an alliance. So here Volo sat, twirling the set of wings he knew he would lose should he fail in his hand and jumping at every little movement even vaguely resembling someone coming in to tell him the phone was for him. What if he didn't say what he was supposed to? What if he forgot something? What if they asked him some question about the base that he didn't have the answer to? So many 'What ifs' were whizzing through his head that he was really beginning to wonder if he should do this at all.

Which was when the all-too-panic-inducing phrase came floating to Volo's ears from the door. "Sir. The phonecall has been recieved. Please report to the communications room immediately." Instantly, Volo was on his feet following the more-than-likely higher-ranking officer down the halls of the building to the place that everyone knew to be the communications tower. The whole way there, all the Keeper could do was clench and unclench his somewhat sweaty fists, teeth locked together, mind gone completely blank. The 'What ifs' were now gone, replaced by noting but pure echoing silence. Panic lead to mistakes. Mistakes lead to complete and total catastrophe. That could not happen. And as such, Volo forced all thought from his mind. He would face this just as he would a normal official phone call. It couldn't be that hard, right?

Not an hour later, Volo was perhaps the most celebrated Keeper in the entirety of the base, his rank jumping considerably to accompany the new-found fame. He'd only been there two months, and by some cruel twist of fate, the Keeper of Fighter Jets was already about half-way up the ladder of success. This... This was the perfect place, the perfect job for him.