Governor Pressfield pushed up from her seat at the head of the council. “Our only remaining course of action then is to fend off this insurrection.” She looked around the room. “I think we all know that nothing pleasant awaits any of us should the inland Kublarens achieve victory.”
Eyes everywhere looked down.
“I’m assuming emergency powers as afforded to me under Republic law and restricting this council meeting to those essential to war.”
Governor Pressfield banged the flat of her hand against the table, which was amplified to sound like a gavel strike. Council members overseeing the various bureaucratic elements not deemed essential to the defense of Kublar—transportation, tax and consumption, inclusive recreation, and more—rose and left the building.
The colonel cleared his throat as those who remained moved together so as not to have to talk across the room. Chieftain Looma, naturally, remained. And so did the zhee. Colonel Deage could only guess that the wutti who usually sat on the council was killed or incapacitated in the morning’s fighting. In any event, he wasn’t going to bring it up. The last thing this council of war needed were the blood oaths of a shamed and beaten zhee.
“Colonel,” Governor Pressfield said upon retaking her seat at the council head, “I had asked for you to provide a list of difficulties this council of war would need to address if the Legion failed to respond to our call for help.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Deage said, resisting the urge to rock back and forth on his feet. He felt a nervous energy that came from wanting to be back at regimental headquarters to get things in motion. Time was of the essence. But the military served at the pleasure of the Republic, and it was they who would ultimately make the battlefield decisions. “Defense of the inner ring of the Green Zone is in place. Good and Heater Companies have all defensive checkpoints fully staffed and have not reported any attempts by hostile elements to strike at the heart of the city.”
“Very good.”
“That said, ma’am, there is now a large, armed element of Pashta’k Kublarens who put down the zhee revolt coming out of the ZQ.”
The zhee council member brayed at this.
“No such thing occurred,” the zhee whinnied in Standard. “The zhee chose to retreat upon the arrival of Black Leaf mercenaries, knowing that the wisdom of the Four Gods demands vigilance against new threats.”
Nobody challenged this beyond a condescending croak from Looma that the zhee was likely unable to read—the zhee weren’t known for cultural awareness. It agitated the colonel that so much of the damage to the Soob was the result of the zhee rather than the inland Kublarens or the Black Leaf mercenaries, whose numbers weren’t confirmed but estimated at less than a hundred soldiers. The Republic had taken a licking this morning and it was at the hands of those who were supposed to be here working with them.
“Nevertheless,” the colonel continued, “those armed Kublarens need to be accounted for. Intel suggests that they’re using a weapons system that deals out a hell of a bad time. We can assume that the inland Kublarens will be armed with the same. But they’ll be engaged outside the city. We need to decide what to do with the Kublarens armed inside.”
“Chieftain Looma?” asked the governor.
“Pashta’k defend… k’kik… zhee-ka killers. Much die. Big.”
The zhee brayed at this but was silenced with a wave of the hand by Governor Pressfield. That the zhee so quickly allowed himself to be quieted by an infidel female spoke volumes to the colonel. They were desperate and afraid.
“Big die… k’k. Take help. Still Pashta’k. Still Pashta’k. Still! Pashta’k!”
The chieftain’s message was clear. His tribal Kublarens had accepted aid from the Black Leaf mercenaries, but their loyalty remained to their chieftain.
“Then we can count on your elders and warriors getting those weapons off the streets?”
Chieftain Looma nodded. “We give… k’kik… to Pashta’k warriors. Not old ones. Feeble-ah ones.”
“It would seem,” said Governor Pressfield with a barely suppressed smile, “that Mr. Nilo overestimated his ability to gain Kublaren allies on the coast.”
“Fitting that you bring him up, Governor. While I can commandeer civilian transports, the House of Reason left us without offensive airpower. My infantry alone has been left to defend the capital. We have rocket teams to deal with airborne insertions now that we know they have transports of their own, but we’ll be in trouble if they’ve managed to scrounge up anything with teeth.”
Governor Pressfield nodded. “Black Leaf’s founder has made what’s happened here a public spectacle. He’ll want to look good for the holocams he’s now invited to Kublar. If he has air power, we’ll find out soon enough. Our primary goal should be eliminating him. And then the alliance of Kublarens he’s formed inland.”
Pressfield turned to the zhee, introducing him to the council. “This is Yark the Undenied. He is the new acting Grand Wutti of Subiyook City. His people are marching even as we speak to make sure the Kublaren enemies who desecrated the zhee’s holy temple are destroyed, and Black Leaf along with it.”
“Only blood will pay the debt for this sacrilege,” snorted Yark. “All zhee on Kublar will give last breath to see vengeance. The Four Gods demand such!”
Colonel Deage rubbed his chin. “Will that be sufficient to stop the numbers of Kublarens moving this way from inland?”
“Census numbers indicate that if every zhee settled outside the capital, males and females, colts, are to answer the call to battle as Yark has said they will, then we will have a numerically superior force in facing
