Maya jerked awake to the sound of rapid knocks on her bedroom door. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. 8:00 AM flashed in harsh red digits. She jumped out of bed and yanked the door open. Her father, Naveen Deshmukh, stood just outside. He barely had the time to speak before Maya brushed past him, leaving him with his mouth half open.
“Thanks for waking me up Dad, but please don’t lecture me today. I’m running late!”, she said as she paused a second, tiptoed back to her dad and kissed him on the cheek. Before he could respond, she rushed down the stairs. The only sounds in the house now were Maya’s hurried footsteps and Naveen’s exasperated sigh.
Even with the towering buildings surrounding it, the Union Times headquarters easily stood out even at a distance. Glancing at her phone as she paid the taxi driver, Maya saw that she had to report to her superior, Linda, on arriving. Maya nearly tripped over her own feet in her rush but forced herself to slow down just before reaching the reception.
The receptionist was a lady looking to be in her 30s. Her nameplate identified her as Zara.
“Hello Ms. Zara. I’m a new hire. I am supposed to report to Ms. Linda”, said Maya as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Ah! You’re late! Head over to the second floor, quickly.”
“Yes, I will. Thank you!”, Maya said in between breaths as she rushed to the elevator.
After reaching the second floor, the elevator doors slid open, revealing desks, monitors, stacks of newspapers and printed drafts.
Maya took a moment to absorb the whirlwind of activity. The air buzzed with the sound of ringing phones, distant chatter, and the occasional clatter of a coffee mug being set down too hard.
It wasn’t long before she spotted a workstation with a nameplate: Linda Jackson. A woman was seated there, sticking out in the crowd with her striking blonde hair.
Maya felt as if her feet were in quicksand. After a moment of deliberation, she braved forward. "Ms. Jackson?"
Linda looked up from her screen, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re late.”
Maya winced. “I—yes, I know. I’m really sorry—”
“Apologies don’t meet deadlines.” Linda sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “But… first days are messy. Mine was worse.”
Maya’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Linda smirked. “I spilled coffee on my editor’s desk. Spent an hour cleaning while he chewed me out.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”
Linda slid a file toward her. “Good. Now, here’s your first-”
“Has the new trainee not started on the interview yet?”, a voice bellowed, cutting Linda off. At some point, a man had approached Linda’s station.
The new Editor-in-Chief, Bernard Crankin! Maya noted the similarities with the pictures she had seen on the way here.
Linda bowed slightly in greeting. “Good morning, chief. I was just showing her the ropes, she’ll start working on it in no time.”
“She better be. After it’s done, bring the final draft to me directly.”
“Yes sir.”
Bernard turned towards a large glass cubicle, presumably his office, and walked away in big strides.
Maya let out a deep breath, unaware that she had been holding it.
“He does have an imposing presence,” said Linda. “It’s fortunate that he wasn’t here to see your tardiness.”
Maya nodded. “I read a lot of articles on his appointment as the new chief. It was quite controversial, wasn’t it?”
“Yes! It came as quite a surprise to me too, considering the previous chief never showed any interest in retiring. All we know is that he went back to his hometown, leaving the position empty. Bernard got in through some connections of his. Anyway, as a newbie you shouldn’t worry about stuff like this—specially considering you have a lot of work to do today.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Your task is to interview a soldier returning from the front lines. Get their views on the war, and the current situation.”
“I am definitely up to the task—but I’d like to ask why I am getting such an important piece on my first day?”
Linda tapped her pen against the desk. “Normally, a newbie wouldn’t get an assignment like this.” She leaned forward. “But in your resume, you mentioned that you studied in Orion International School? The soldier you’re interviewing is Rhea Varma. She is from the same school.”
Maya jolted. “Wait, Rhea Varma? She is a soldier now?”
“Yes,” Linda confirmed. “That’s why you’re handling this. She might be more open with you than with some random journalist.”
Maya hadn’t seen Rhea in years. They used to be close, but Rhea’s father had gone bankrupt in business, and she had to withdraw from school. They had maintained contact for a while, but perhaps partly because of Maya’s increasing responsibilities, and Rhea’s hesitation—whether out of embarrassment over leaving school, the struggles her family faced, or uncertainty about her future, Maya never knew—they had slowly lost contact.
A tap on her shoulder woke Maya up from her reverie. “Stop recalling old memories and get to work. Ms. Rhea will visit the building at 4:00 sharp. You’d better have drafted a set of questions by then.”
“Yes, I’ll get right to it.”
Maya spent the next few hours immersed in her work, looking up articles about the war to frame questions covering every aspect. Rest of the time she spent waiting in anticipation and unease. Would Rhea remember her? Would she be surprised?
When someone came to inform her that Rhea had been settled in the conference room, she made her way there. She knocked on the door.
“Come in”, said a voice--familiar, yet changed in ways Maya couldn’t quite place.
Maya pushed the door open.
The last time Maya saw her, Rhea had been just another carefree teenager, restless and always up for a good laugh. Now, she stood tall with a commanding presence, her uniform crisp, medals pinned to her chest. Staring into her deep blue eyes made Maya hesitate.
“Maya?”, Rhea said, her eyes changing completely.
In those eyes, Maya saw the Rhea that she used to know. The one who she had sleepovers with, played with, studied with.
They both pulled each other into a hug.
Even with muscular arms digging into her back, Maya found herself grinning.
“It’s been forever,” Rhea said as they pulled apart, taking a seat across from Maya. “I didn’t expect the interviewer to be you!”
Maya turned her gaze down to her clipboard. “It was a surprise for me, too! Anyways, how have you been all these years?”
“Just surviving”, Rhea shrugged.
Maya winced.
She didn’t look up for a while, choosing to stare at the clipboard.
A band of silence stretched between them, seemingly able to stretch to infinity-- until Maya snapped it. She looked up and glanced at Rhea. Those eyes betrayed no sense of indignation, as Maya had thought.
Those blue eyes were calm as a lake, untouched by even the slightest ripple, making her spellbound.
Maya wasn’t sure how she found her voice, but she was grateful it shattered the spell. “So, why did you join the military? It’s so surreal seeing you as a young Captain. You look so imposing!”
“Well, I didn’t exactly have many options.”
Maya pursed her lips. That answer was within her expectations. Military recruitment was being done en masse in recent years. With war not a distant concern but a looming reality, almost anyone could enlist—especially those who struggled to find other opportunities.
Maya looked at the questions she had prepared. Her training as a journalist kicked in and helped ease some of her roiling emotions.
“Alright, let’s get started. We can always catch up later. This will be a short piece your perspective on the war.”
“Got it.”
“You were stationed on the western front. What is the current situation there like?”
“We’ve held the line, but the indigenous forces know the terrain, giving them an edge. We counter with numbers, but many troops must stay back to defend against attacks on our land. After all, they once crossed our borders and slaughtered thousands over a mere dispute—the incident which sparked the war.”
Maya nodded, noting it down. “And how is the morale among the military?”
Rhea leaned back slightly, seeming to organize her words before speaking.
“It’s complicated. War is never a good thing for either side. Some of us believe in what we’re fighting for. Others... let’s just say that not everyone has a choice.”
Maya tapped her pen against the table absentmindedly. “I suppose that’s true. The military is taking in almost everyone these days.”
Rhea’s eyes regained their sharpness. “What do you mean by that?”
“Uh—no--that--I meant--”, Maya got flustered. “I just mean that military is now a last resort for all sorts of people to fall back on when they cannot accomplish anything else. How can---”
“You think we’re all rejects?”, Rhea cut Maya off.
Maya felt her stomach twisting. She didn’t want this to continue, so she found herself saying what she felt Rhea wanted to hear, even if she didn’t truly believe it herself.
“No, I’m sorry. No matter what reason they’re fighting for, they are us. After the border incident… if the soldiers weren’t there—”
Rhea let out something almost like a laugh, yet its bitterness betrayed that illusion.
Ripples broke across those deep blue lakes in her eyes.
“If the soldiers weren’t there---ha! If only the soldiers weren’t there--”
Maya frowned. “The ones on duty on those borders were indeed true heroe--”
The ripples had turned to waves, crashing and relentless. For a moment, Maya felt like she was being pulled under.
“Rhea? You--”
The words left her lips like a spell, and just like that, the waves vanished—swallowed by an unnatural calm.
With a hollow chuckle, Rhea shook her head. “Yeah. You’re right.”
The interview continued, but the atmosphere was different now. Rhea’s responses were more measured now, as if she was framing every answer before speaking.
Maya finally finished her interview. “That should be enough for the article. Thanks for your time.”
Rhea nodded. “You still talk as fast as you did in school.”
Maya chuckled. “And you still hesitate before speaking, just like back then.”
Rhea smirked. “Old habits. It was nice meeting you, Maya. I got your number from the firm. I’ll keep in touch.”
Before Maya could reply, Rhea had already left the room.
----------------------------------------
By the time Maya got home, dusk had already surrendered to the night.
She saw her father on the sofa, watching television.
“How did your day go?”, he asked, not looking up.
“It was fine.”
The weary and despondent tone made Naveen look up at her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
His gaze lingered on her.
“I just...met an old friend.”
“Oh! Then why the long face?”
After some hesitation, Maya recounted the conversation with Rhea to Naveen.
“Oh! She’s a soldier now! I remember she used to come to our house often. So you’re upset because she didn’t like that you belittled the military?”
Maya stayed quiet.
Naveen sighed. “I should have told you something long ago. It is my fault your thoughts have turned out like this.”
“What do you mean?”
Naveen gestured towards the storeroom. “Come with me first.”
Maya had rarely visited it before, as it was musty and packed with dirt, filled with things no one cared to remember. The moment she stepped inside, the musty air clawed at her throat, making her cough.
Naveen fetched a box from the top of a shelf.
“What is this?” Maya asked as he placed the box on the floor.
Instead of answering, he opened it.
Inside lay an old military uniform, neatly folded. Badges of honor were pinned to the fabric, shining even in the dim light. A few photographs were placed at the side— showing a young woman in uniform. She had striking resemblance with Maya.
Maya had seen some photos of her before, yet never one like this. Chills began running across her body. The wood flooring felt colder than ice.
Her knees threatened to buckle under her. She chose to give in and bent down to pick up a photograph with trembling fingers. In showed the woman standing beside her father, who cradled a newborn in his arms. The tiny girl was reaching for the woman, her little hands outstretched.
She stood still as if frozen in time, only the quiver in her thoat betraying her struggle to voice the raging torrent of thoughts in her mind.
Naveen waited in silence.
Then, at last, as the dam broke and tears flooded down her cheeks, so too did the word break free.
“Mom?!”
Naveen let out a cough. “Yes. Your mother was a decorated major in the military. The day I met her, she only felt like a dazzling star—in the reach of my palms yet so far away... Yet I was determined to reach that star.
The closer I got, the more I knew, the deeper I fell into love. The day she agreed to marry me seemed like the best day of my life at the time. The best one, as I would find out, was the day I held you in my arms for the first time. For a few precious years, I had two shining stars in my life. And then, fate came to collect its dues.
I still remember the day I got the news that your mother had given her life for the nation. You were too young then to understand.
You were so similiar to your mother—the same strong, steadfast eyes. I was terrified of losing you too. So I told you that mother had gone on a trip far far away, and won’t be back soon. We moved to a separate city. By the time you were able to handle it, I told you that your mother had died of cancer.
You always followed your mother, like twin stars bound by gravity. I never told you about her being in the military, because I feared that you would want to follow in her footsteps— to fulfill her legacy.
Whenever you showed interest in soldiers, I was dismissive, maybe even disdainful. I led you away from that path, as best as I could. I do not regret it, yet I still wanted you to know the truth. Today’s incident just gave me an opportunity.”
Maya’s eyes glazed over. The tears had long dried, leaving only an empty numbness in their wake.
She could see her father calling out to her, but she could no longer hear anything. everything around her felt distant, muffled, like she was submerged underwater. She didn’t even know how she reached her bedroom door---only realizing when she bumped into it.
She looked down at her hand. The picture was still there, but she had unknowingly clenched her fists, folding it. She was still holding the photograph, though her fingers had curled around it without her realizing. A deep crease ran through the image, a deep chasm separating the woman from the outstretched hands of the little girl.
Maya made it to her bed and fell on it. A storm of thoughts wreaked havoc inside her mind.
Numerous times she had rolled her eyes at patriotic speeches or scoffed at news articles glorifying the military. Numerous times she had dismissed the sacrifices of people like her mother. She had scoffed at them talking of honor and duty.
Had she been spitting on her mother’s memory all this time?
Guilt. A dagger stabbing into her chest.
Would her mother be disappointed in her? Ashamed of her?
She felt sick.
The way she had spoken to Rhea. The way she had dismissed the struggles of the soldiers—the struggles of her own mother. She had let her own ignorance define her speech, cloud her thoughts.
Rhea had seen right through her.
The storm of emotions raged on, but eventually, exhaustion won as sleep took her in its embrace.
------------------------------------------------
Maya woke up with determination in her eyes. Last night’s storm had brewed a newfound clarity in her.
She had been wrong. About her mother. About soldiers. About Rhea. About so many things.
She grabbed her communicator and typed out a message.
"I need to talk. Café near Union Times. Please."
A moment passed. Then another. Then—
"Fine."
------------------------------------------------
Maya arrived early at the café. Her coffee went cold, left untouched. She had only taken it to avoid the nagging of waitresses.
Then Rhea walked in, her expression no different from when she had left the interview.
Maya stood up immediately. "Rhea—"
Rhea looked at Maya. It made her stop mid-sentence. Rhea took the initiative to sit, signaling Maya to do the same.
Maya hesitated but met her gaze as she sat down. "I was wrong," she said, voice steady despite the weight behind it. "I thought I understood the world, but I was only seeing what I wanted to see. I dismissed your struggles. I judged you unfairly. And I’m sorry."
Rhea’s eyes flickered.
Maya took a deep breath. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I just needed you to know that."
A pause.
Rhea stared deep into Maya’s eyes. Just as they had before, those deep blue eyes bore into Maya, but this time she stared back, not in a daze, but full of sincerity.
To Maya, this time the waves in those lakes did not smother her, rather seemed to give a warm embrace.
Rhea sighed, rubbing her temples. "You’re frustrating, you know that?" She exhaled sharply. "But... I believe you."
Maya’s mouth stretched into a grin.
Before she could respond, Rhea leaned forward. "I wasn’t planning to tell you this. But maybe it’s time you know the real reason I’m here."
Rhea lowered her voice down to barely a whisper. "The reason for this war isn’t what the government claims. There have always been discrepancies in the reports military receives, subtle ones. Yet they keep adding up. Even some in the military are involved in the cover up. One of the superiors in the military has collected a lot of circumstantial evidence, which points to different motives. The real reason I came was to investigate the new Editor-in-Chief of Union Times."
Maya’s breath caught.
"Through some old veterans’ testimonies, we came to know that he was part of the government. The old editor-in-chief was also found dead. Although this news was suppressed, but it still left some traces. With the circumstances around Bernard’s appointment as editor-in-chief, him being the prime propagator of government war propaganda, it is also him who has popularized the reasons for the war among the masses. All of this makes him a prime suspect and a good breakthrough point. So when I first met you at the Union Times, I planted a bug in his office."
Maya stared, stunned.
"Last night, the government liaison met with him." Rhea’s voice became raspy. "And I heard the truth. The so-called "war of self-defense" was a lie. The indigenous leader's son was the one who came as the representative of the indigenous people. They had been willing to concede some land but wanted to remain autonomous. But the nation wanted all of their resources for themselves. When the representative left after the disagreement, he was murdered by the government near a border city. His severed head was sent to the indigenous leader, his father, to provoke war. The indigenous retaliation had been twisted by propaganda into an act of unprovoked aggression.”
Maya’s blood ran cold. "They wanted war."
“The recording proves it. But it’s not enough. We need physical evidence.”
Maya frowned. “How do you know there is any?”
“I used a military-grade transmitter,” Rhea said. “It picks up electromagnetic interference. When there was the sound of Bernard opening his desk drawer, there was a brief distortion—too weak for a phone or computer. It’s an RFID lock. RFID locks use low-power signals. If I jam the frequency for a few seconds, the lock might reset, thinking it’s malfunctioning.”
Maya nodded. “But why are you telling me this all of a sudden?”
“Because I need your help. I can’t go in uninvited.”
Maya hesitated. Just yesterday she was a normal carefree girl, and now this world changing secret was thrust onto her. But she refused to betray her newfound resolve.
“Yes”, she said. “I’m in.”
------------------------------------------------
Maya quickly opened and closed the desks on a massive filing cabinet, skimming over the massive stacks of documents they contained.
Taking advantage of the editor-in-chief’s absence, she had used the excuse that she had left her draft with the interview answers in Bernard’s office, and she needed to give it a final edit before tomorrow’s publication. If wasn’t a lie---Bernard seemed to take all war related publications seriously, demanding to edit all war related publications personally.
Rhea stood guard outside.
Finally Maya found a drawer which didn’t open.
Maya pulled out the small device Rhea had given her and pressed it against the metal. A faint click. A small click.
Inside the locker was a set of folders stamped CLASSIFIED. They were sealed.
She checked the other drawers to make sure no other drawer was locked, then grabbed the classified folders. Just as she turned to leave the room, the door swung open.
Her heart caught.
Then—Rhea’s voice, light and casual. “Are you done yet, Maya? Finish the work early, or when will we have time to catch up!”
Maya understood that someone was coming.
Thinking fast, she slid the folders against the curve of her lower back, tucking them snugly between her jeans and skin. Her coat draped naturally over them, concealing any trace.
Looking around, she found the interview draft, and quickly grabbed it just as Linda showed up at the door.
She bellowed. “Why is it taking so long? You still haven’t gotten rid of your lethargic habits, have you? Atleast learn from your friend here!”
Maya stuck out her tongue. “Sorry, it was just buried beneath a pile of documents. I’ll go now.”
She hurried out of the office, avoiding Linda as if she was afraid of her lectures, but it was just the folders slipping from the back that led to this haste.
The ticklish feeling of the papers against her back felt like knives scratching against her skin, slowly leading her to doom.
In haste, Maya tripped. She felt the papers fall completely.
I’m done for. It’s all over.
Yet she felt the papers slide back into place. She turned back in shock, to see that Rhea had grabbed the papers and put them back. Linda was still locking the door with her back turned to them.
Maya heaved a sigh of relief, then made her way to her car with Rhea.
------------------------------------------------
Maya looked at the papers sprawled on the table in disbelief. She had come home with Rhea right away to see what the classified documents contained. What Rhea had said was all true.
Rhea snapped her out of her thoughts. “Once we release this, we’ll need to hide. My superior arranged a military van in the western wasteland—it can’t enter the city since this isn’t an official mission. They’ll take us to a neutral zone. Message your father and tell him to meet us there.”
Maya nodded, and sent a message detailing what had happened and sent him the location of the pickup. Then, just in case he doubted her, she added one final line.
I swear on Mom—this isn’t a joke.
That should be enough.
After packing some essentials in a bag, they were ready to leave. As Maya approached the door, it swung open and hit her in the nose, sending her plummeting to the ground.
Between her ringing ears and numbing pain, Maya managed to make out Rhea’s screams.
She looked up to see Bernard at the door, holding a silenced gun. He shoved it in her face.
He said in a calm voice. “Drop your weapon.”
Rhea made a sudden movement to grab her weapon.
A shot rang out.
Bernard had shot Maya’s leg.
Rhea didn’t dare to lunge at Bernard. Her eyes were like a beast, red and violent.
“No quick movements. Each mistake you make, I’ll shoot one limb. How many mistakes can you afford?”
Rhea calmed down. She slowly reached for her weapon and threw it away.
Bernard smirked. “Good girl.
His tone then sharpened. “When I found them missing, I searched my room, and—surprise, surprise—found your little toy.” He pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the table. The bug.
His face took on a visible hue of red. “A bug! Military grade at that! And who is the only one who visited the agency recently and is capable of having such items, I wonder! Do you take me for a fool?”
Bernard’s voice suddenly dropped, taking a calm and soothing tone. “ Now hand over all the documents to me, and I can let you go. Killing a visiting military captain won’t be too good for me. It will just blow things out of proportion. Don’t worry, I don’t want my superiors involved either. It’s shameful that I let a few ants get the better of me. Obediently hand them over to me and I will let you go.”
Rhea suddenly heard Maya scream. “Rhea, do it! What’s the point of exposing the truth? It’s not worth dying over!”
Rhea’s breath hitched.
Maya trembled. “Just throw it away, Rhea! Who cares about the truth? Who cares about a few dead soldiers?”
Rhea felt her heart drop. So this was the true face of her friend. In the face of death, she knew that few could stay true to their selves, yet she was dissapointed. And to think that she thought the resolve she saw in her eyes was re---
Wait. The resolve she saw in Maya’s eyes---that was indeed real! She has never felt something so truly before. And this is not how Maya talks at all! Her movements are too exaggerated, too forced!
Bernard’s gun never wavered, but Rhea wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at Maya—really looking—and she chose to trust her. She handed Bernard the documents.
Bernard smirked. “Good girl. Now, I won’t kill you—but I can’t have you running around causing trouble either. So, you have two options. Come with me, cooperate, and make it look like you left voluntarily. I’ll only imprison you until the war ends.” His voice darkened. “If not, you die.”
Maya didn’t even flinch. Such a thing was to be expected from this despicable man.
Between the burning pain in her foot and her throbbing brain, she just wanted to rest. She could barely keep herself upright.
Her eyelids turned into mere slits, yet she fought to keep them open. Her last wish kept her consciousness afloat.
God. I have tried to do good, so you can atleast let me meet my mother in heaven, right?
Then she heard a sickening crack.
Through her eye-slits, she saw Bernard falling face-first onto the ground. She could barely move her eyes to see a sillouhette at the door, before the darkness claimed her.
------------------------------------------------
Maya’s eyes snapped open. She looked around to find that she was in the back of a truck.
Rhea was sitting beside her.
“She’s up!”, Rhea shouted, and the driver heaved a sigh of relief. It was Naveen.
She continued. “I’ve patched you up the best I could, the rest will be handled by a medic at the extraction site.”
Maya turned to Naveen. “Why is dad here?”
Naveen sighed. “I came to grab a few things before heading to the meeting point. Then I saw that bastard threatening you.” His jaw clenched.
Maya smirked. “So you just—bashed his head in?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Rhea chuckled. “Remind me never to make you mad.”
Maya let out a dry laugh. Then she remembered.
“I already sent it,” Maya said.
Rhea’s eyes sharpened. “Sent what?”
“The evidence.”
A tense pause.
“All of it?” Rhea asked, voice edged with disbelief.
Maya shook her head. “Not everything. Just enough to start the fire.” She took a steady breath. “If I sent the whole truth—the government’s involvement, the assassination—it would’ve been buried before it ever reached the public.”
Rhea’s brows furrowed. “Then what did you send?”
Maya’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “The part that incriminates Bernard.”
“The media will run with it, thinking they’re only exposing a corrupt editor. But once that story spreads, others will start digging. Investigative journalists, whistleblowers—people who actually want the truth. And by the time the government realizes what’s happening, it’ll be too late to stop it.”
A slow, impressed grin spread across Rhea’s face. “You’re playing the long game.”
Maya nodded. “Thanks for believing in me.”
“Always.”
No more words needed to be said.
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