Miarre trembled with excitement as she drove towards the military base. While a noticeable portion of the populace were military personnel, there were a plethora of jobs that weren’t military. Being a reporter was one of them.

  What had once been thought to be a mere rumour – one few, if any, believed in --– was now becoming a public uproar. The video evidence of someone strolling through the military’s reception wearing the Silver Star in addition to soldier testimonies had stoked the flames causing the conspiracy theory to gain traction. It had become a big enough topic that it was gaining the attention of larger press companies.

  Hers included.

  Though smaller than most, her company had a proven track record of reporting important, factual information that people went through great lengths to hide. Thus far, the military had not commented on anything relating to the rumour. They’d finally accepted meeting a single reporter – from her company no less – and it had been decided that she would be dispatched to handle the negotiations.

  Something this big, if true, would propel her career to new heights. One does not simply receive the Silver Star. One especially does not receive the Silver Star quietly. It was the most prestigious merit of honour the military could award. With only three recipients currently alive and all of them having earned their medals during the Great Wars, they were all old and nearing the end of their lifespans.

  She carefully approached the entrance to the base and lowered the window on her vehicle, where she was promptly ordered out to be searched. Her car was abandoned in favour of a second one waiting inside the gates. She was allowed to bring nothing with her, not even her data slate.

  Her alarm only grew when she was brought to another building and stripped of her clothes, searched again and promptly given a new set to wear before being led back into the car the through the reception room. Under armed guard, she was received at the reception of the main building and brought into the elevator.

  She and her two guards ascended to the highest floor in the building. The doors opened and the sight of dark wood and white granite walls full of silver and gold veins greeted her. Sytha paused her work and studied the waiting room’s newest guest for a moment before sending a message to the General. Miarre was guided into one of the leather chairs that adorned the room.

  It was only twenty minutes later that Sytha rose from her seat behind her desk and spoke. “The General will see you now. Follow me.” She motioned with her arm before turning around and walking towards the set of imposing double doors situated behind her desk.

  Miarre stood up quickly and rushed to follow. Without knocking, Sytha reached for the handle of the one on the left and opened the door, ushering Miarre inside. She hesitated before entering, not expecting to be discussing the situation with one of the most prominent figures in their military. Once inside, the door shut behind her with a soft click, leaving her facing Nessah, who sat at her behind her beautiful wooden desk. The piercing gaze of the General did nothing to put her mind at ease.

  “Miss Kiala,” Nessah said pleasantly, “please, have a seat.”

  Miarre approached the only chair in front of the desk, meticulously set up to accommodate her. She sat down, unsure how to address someone of such high standing. “General,” she stammered, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Nessah flashed a sharp smile. “The pleasure’s all mine. As you know, there have been rumours of a new Silver Star holder. Public outcry has grown so strong that the civic government has stepped in demanding for a clear-cut answer regarding the situation.” She did not sound pleased, in spite of her carefully neutral expression. “And so here you are.”

  Miarre gulped. “Here I am.” Sweat formed on her brow from the stress of facing Nessah. The two women stared at each other for a moment, before Miarre broke from Nessah’s gaze. She hesitated before speaking anew. “What is the military’s response to the rumours?” she asked with false bravado.

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  Nessah drumming her fingers on her desk did nothing to put Miarre at ease. “There is indeed a new Silver Star holder,” she confirmed after what felt like an eternity. “However, the situation with which they have received it is highly classified and will not be available to the public.”

  Miarre jolted at the news. “You mean it’s true?” she gaped. “Why are you keeping quiet about something this important?” She narrowed her eyes. “It has to do with half our fleet disappearing, doesn’t it?”

  Nessah only smiled. “The military will neither confirm nor deny further questions or accusations regarding this matter. Make this clear to your company. The only thing we are permitting you to learn is that a new Silver Star holder exists.”

  “I can’t leave with just that and you know it!” Miarre refuted. “The public will want to know why such a prestigious merit was attributed to someone and they have the right to know. The military might have been able to sweep any other kind of merit under the rug, but not the Silver Star. It’s too big. The public already knows that the recipient is Reya Ayala. Her name was confirmed by your staff.”

  Nessah’s expression darkened. “Did you ever stop to consider that it might be for her own safety that we’re keeping things like this? You’re right. One simply does not receive the Silver Star and she received it for a reason.”

  Miarre drew up short. “Nobody will accept that kind of explanation. The public has the right to know the truth!”

  “They do not have that right,” Nessah said coldly. “We keep things secret for a reason.”

  “You can’t just do that,” Miarre sputtered.

  Nessah smiled a Cheshire smile. “I think you’ll find that we can, in fact, do that.”

  “This kind of half-hearted admission can hardly be called a statement!” The General’s eyes flashed in anger and Miarre had to suppress the urge to flinch. “At least provide us proof. Let me conduct a basic interview with Reya Ayala with her medal to prove to the public that you speak the truth.”

  “My word should be sufficient. The conditions to such an interview will be draconian and limited to specific topics. Should you deviate from any of our conditions, you will be arrested for high treason and tried by military law.”

  “I’m a civilian!” Miarre countered. “You can’t threaten me like that.”

  “It’s not a threat, it’s the reality of the situation you don’t seem to understand. You either play by our rules or you don’t play at all. This is not a game,” Nessah said harshly. “This is not some random scoop. This is someone’s life you’re toying with.”

  “Why do you go to such lengths for this?”

  Nessah’s gaze turned heavy and unsettling. Miarre squirmed in her seat uncomfortably, suddenly wishing to find herself far away from where she was sitting. “I am the General,” Nessah said, her voice hard enough to put steel to shame. “My will is military law. Do not test it if you want to leave here at all. You’ve proposed an interview with Miss Ayala. We accept, conditionally.”

  Miarre gulped. “And what conditions are those?”

  “The interview will be conducted at the time and place of our choosing, under guard. You,” Nessah stressed, “will be under guard. You will come alone and will record using our equipment. The interview will be reviewed and edited by us before being released to the public. No illicit recording equipment will be tolerated, and you will be thoroughly searched to ensure this. Any deviation from the script we provide you will be punished under military law. You will not be permitted further contact with Miss Ayala unless we permit it.”

  “That sounds remarkably strict, the legality issue of being tried under military law aside. What if Miss Ayala’s answers lead to more questions? Am I to ignore asking logical, obvious questions?”

  “I’m glad you catch on quickly.”

  “At least let the interview include you at the beginning in order for you to personally confirm the veracity of the discussion I have with Miss Ayala.”

  “Very well,” Nessah hummed. “I will allow you this one thing. I take it then, that you accept?”

  Here it was, her career defining moment. Miarre knew her answer would decide her future as a reporter. Carefully, she weighed the merits of adhering to such strict conditions. Her heart palpitated at the thought of being thrown in prison for the slightest mistake, yet it wasn’t enough to deter her from her destiny. “I do,” she said, sealing her fate.

  “Don’t forget what I said about not respecting our conditions because I won’t.” Nessah’s threats hung in the air as the two women faced each other. “You’re dismissed. We will contact you at a later point in time for your interview. You are permitted to confirm the existence of a new Silver Star holder as well as her name, but that is all.”

  Miarre nodded and left the room silently, not willing to earn the General’s ire by pushing her luck. Her guards followed her into the elevator and back towards where she’d been forced to change clothes. Once dressed as the had arrived, she was escorted back to her car and permitted to leave the base. It was only when she left the military base that she smiled to herself. “Just you wait, I’ll sniff out what you’re hiding,” she said to herself. “The world will learn your secrets.”

  She didn’t notice the recording device, nor the tracker attached to her car.

  Back in her office, Nessah listened carefully to the defiant words Miarre thought were safe. A smile slowly grew. “What a perfect pawn.”