Admiral Dekelley Forrest was grim-faced as he reached in his drawer and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He fiddled with the lone remaining cigarette, tobacco wasting away on his desk and he placed it in his mouth and lit it. Turning towards the computer, he activated the antiquated recording system while General Jettrell Lyndia was turning to face the window, the wrinkles on her forehead a visible sign of the stress she was under.
"Admiral, you know that I sympathize. You also know that I believe the Emperor to be unfit for leadership, but I cannot - I will not order my soldiers to die in a suicide-mission of a mutiny! Emperor Hajal controls the majority of the Foomahnpooan defense forces, and the forces that are currently enjoying their neutrality will quickly fall in line under the threat of mass execution! The answer is no."
Admiral Forrest rose from his chair, flicked his cigarette ash on the floor and looked General Kelley in the eyes.
"General, half our population is dead or dying of cancer. Our landscape has become barren and inhospitable. Children as young as eight years old are being denied the ability to be a child and are forced to work in deplorable conditions. This year alone, over 300 political prisoners have either been executed or have simply disappeared. Our citizens take their own lives in police custody rather than endure the interrogation squads. Whatever this new gaseous biological weapon we have developed is, it has killed tens of thousands of dissenters in the last few months..."
The Admiral ashed his cigarette again, the passion showing through in his cracking voice as he struggled to maintain his composure. His eyes glistened with the almost-tears of pain and regret.
"I believed in this man when we seized control of the government from the Gianna Council, but he has simply lost his mind!"
The General abruptly spun around to face him.
"DO YOU NOT BELIEVE I KNOW THESE THINGS, DEKELLEY!?! What is it that you would have me do? Us do? We will not win an insurrection! We simply do not have the support of the firepower! Your passion is admirable, but your tactics will get us all killed without help and that is all there is to it!"
The Admiral reached over and turned off the recording system. The General sighed and walked over to him, taking his hands in hers. "I trust my theater was to your liking? I understand your ideas of leaving no trace of my involvement, Dekelley, but you are taking all the risk here and that is not fair."
"It's a risk I will gladly take to end this nightmare. Quickly, Jettrell, enclose the file and compress it. I will record the transmission."
General Lyndia's brow furrowed. "This equipment we stole is so very old, will it even transmit on a frequency anyone monitors anymore?"
The Admiral nodded. "There are still many nations that make use of these frequencies in some fashion. To what extent we will be noticed, I cannot say...but we will be noticed."
"The file is compressed and attached, my love."
"Admiral Forrest sat down in his chair and rolled over to the transmitter. The microphone was true to its recent home, the musty smell of a stale, sealed storage room still noticeable. He spoke into the microphone.
To anyone who receives this transmission, this is Admiral Forrest of the West Foomahnpoo Liberation Force. Please see the enclosed file. If you can hear my voice, please...help us.
He quickly closed the transmitter and turned to face his wife. "Now, we wait."
General Lyndia pressed her forehead to his. She whispered to him, her voice quivering with an anticipation she barely believed possible.
"May our courage bring forth even a sliver of hope."
