Having spent the better part of two months visiting other cells of the Maquisards and using his most honed weapon, his oratory skills, to convince the hundreds, and now the thousands that something glorious was coming, and none would wish to be exempt from it, Balian keyed his comms to reach Boucher. No answer came so he left the audio message:
“That was the last of them Boucher, they will come. I’ve dispatched precise staggered timing for them to begin transporting their men and gear. Some will fill Epernay directly in Champagne, some in nearby Burgundy at our base there, and believe it or not, I even got a group calling themselves les feux de la liberté, that have some sort of modified liner they plan on camping out in until the signal is given.
I make my way now to ready our people at Chambery, and will listen for your call.”
Flipping the comm switch, Balian set the course on his nav computer and engaged his thrusters. Like a wraith, his Stellion crossed the empty void without interaction. His mind was heavy with the puzzle that lay before him, and he slowly contemplated and stewed the details over and over.