Vila came bounding - slowly - into the room at the retirement center. "Avon, I know what you can do."
Avon's voice was a sarcastic near growl, coarsened by age. He whispered, "Why don't you broadcast my name over the speakers, you idiot! There must be someone in the next building that didn't hear my real name." His hair had turned silver and he moved stiffly from injuries sustained on Gauda Prime but there was still strength in his eyes.
"Sorry." Vila, who had fared better physically and tended to do the heavy lifting now - not to mention, for once was attracting more than his share of the ladies - sighed. Age had only made the prickly man even more cantankerous. Though he did have a point this time. It would not do to have anyone know who they were. Adrian and Alan were retired merchants, spending their twilight years enjoying a resort/retirement center in a neutral grid.
Avon was working at a computer terminal that he had installed in his suite. It was hooked up to ORAC. From here, he had access to everything in the Second Federation Empire. Avon asked, "What were you going to say before?"
"You know those snarky journal comments you've been writing about the Federation?"
Avon's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You broke into my journal?" There was a dangerous tinge in his tone.
Vila swallowed hard and smiled nervously. "Well, it wasn't that hard."
"It had a two stage security password."
Vila said, "Cally and Blake?"
Avon scowled. "This idea had better be good." He began thinking of using different security protocols as Vila told him the idea.
The next day, anonymous messages began popping up randomly in personal electronic mail sites, news services, anywhere that would have wide distribution. The sarcastic messages about corruption and the stupidity of leaders and the Administration struck a chord amongst people that wanted to speak out but were too afraid to voice their opinions. Federation Security was at a loss. The messages could not be traced. Every lead ended up nowhere.
The messages were sparking widespread discontent within the Federation. They had spread like wildfire. There were too many voices to be silenced. People were demanding change. The Federation leaders were afraid. They had to either meet some of their concerns or face a widespread revolt in both the Near and Outer worlds.
The messages were all signed with the same name, The Silver Surfer (and sidekick).