Old Friends, New Allies. [Rune]

[Eitan Angevin]

21st of Searing, Year 123 of Steel
Zaichaeri Territory

The ZADC Black Swan was a swift, small corvette of an airship, and it was upon that craft that Seeker-Captain Angevin returned home. That is, he returned to Zaichaeri airspace, but not the High City—neither the earthbound city nor the truly high sky islands. The journey from Gel'Grandal was long and somewhat arduous as these things went. The airmen didn't know Gelerian nor Dalquian airspace nearly as well as their native skies, after all.

Delia and Eitan had done what they could to secure financial support from the Guild of Coin, and they came bearing some coin from their inheritance, as well as less liquid assets, resources for the cause. While Eitan took his turns at the helm, they had plenty of time to discuss matters. By the time the arrived at the riverlands fort controlled by Commander Hedwig Vonnegut, they were both anxious to see their spouses and their children, to return to their quotidien responsibilities, certain in the knowledge that everything hadn't gone to the Mists in their absence. But Stefan needed them to play diplomat once more, and when the Minister asked, they would answer.

It became clear quite quickly that Eitan was useless there, and so it was decided that Delia would remain to treat with Vonnegut, her confidential maid, a Watcher, and two airmen remaining behind as her entourage.

"It is a show of good faith, Eitan," she told him as they bid each other farewell from the quay of the fort's modest skyport. "At the very least, she will have us ferried back home, and if I can't bring her with me, I will bring someone from her camp. An embassy of sorts. Go renew your friendship with Reichart. The sooner we both get to our tasks, the sooner we can be home once more."

"Right as ever, Dee," he said with a forced jauntiness. They kissed cheeks, and she quietly reminded him that if all else failed, she was a decent shot. He laughed, boarded the corvette, and flew east. With a skeleton crew to begin with, the loss of a few airmen was no small thing. But given the long journey, when Eitan, Dienerin, and the other pilots took their turns, Eitan's Watchers took turns learning to fly the Black Swan. It was good to be multi-talented these days. One never knew what Zaichaer would demand.

The Seeker-Captain didn't know what to expect in the eastern forests. He had coordinates and limited intelligence; the greatest intelligence was his old friendship with Benedikt Reichart, the de facto commander of both air and ground forces. The man had been in the ZDC before he took to the air, and thus had been older than most in the academy. That set him apart from the others as elven blood, the taint of a Rune, and other things had set Eitan apart. They had bonded, but military duty perforce separated friends and families. It had been too long since they had seen each other, and while he still held the man in high esteem, he didn't know whether time and tribulation had chilled the man.

"Seeker, we are approaching." Watcher Lessnau interrupted his reverie, and moved to fix some tiny imperfection in his uniform as Eitan stared into the mirror. He looked like the very model of a modern Zaichaeri captain.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come," he called.

An airman entered, and saluted. "We are approaching the coordinates, Captain," she said. "We have visual contact with air patrols."

Lessnau often knew things before anyone else, being a Sembler and a Mesmer. Eitan was just glad that he was entirely on their side; he would have been a powerful tool or weapon for any enemy. The young man smirked as the airman repeated recently outdated news.

"And Reichart's ship?"

"Among them, sir."

"Excellent." He nodded. "Tell the helm to approach with all signs of peaceful intent."

"Aye, sir." She departed.

"Passive scanning only, Lessnau," he warned. "There will be Watchers among them, and we want to prove to them that we are trustworthy and worthy of leadership."

"But Seeker, the other Sentinels—"

"Aye." Eitan held up a hand to forestall him. "The other Sentinels support me for High Sentinel. Our brethren stationed with the various corps on the ground might not be aware of that, or see that as valid. These are trying times and extenuating circumstances. Of course, I want you to keep your proverbial finger to the pulse and all, but if we are going to win them over, it will be through a fine example and my old friendship with Captain Reichart. Remember, these people are our people, and not enemies. I would rather no Zaichaeri citizens be our enemies."

"Yes, Seeker," he replied, seeming honestly chastised. Lessnau had him on a pedestal, which was both uncomfortable and strangely pleasing. Eitan had always been ambitious, but the cataclysm had honed his ambitions, purified him. If he sought power, it was to more effectively lead and protect his people. "I will be perfectly obedient, the better to show them that you are worthy of obedience."

"Aye. Well. Good." Uncomfortable, but hiding it. "Get a couple of airmen in formal uniform and bring them up to me on the deck."

"Yes, Seeker." Lessnau paused. "High Sentinel." He truly seemed to relish the words, and Eitan could only assume that it was a common desire for hierarchy that was lacking in some ways. He and Beeman had kept the Order in Zaichaer together, even made some amazing innovations, but he had only been a Seeker and she an Orator. Now he would be Sentinel of Zaichaer and High Sentinel of the Order of Reconciliation, and he was not yet twenty-eight. Beeman would be Provost, and he would ensure that her protégé, Tristram Gebieter, was well positioned to handle logistics for her.

Eitan took a mere moment of solitary solace and one last exacting glance in the mirror, and then firmly attached his hat so it would not fly off in the wind. Soon enough, he was on the deck, flanked by two airmen in formal dress and Watcher Lessnau. ZADC ships loomed as they approached the camp, and flags signaled that they were free to descend. An ancient tree looked set up to be impromptu mooring, and there was a wooden platform where they could attach their gangplank and debark.

The Captain-Seeker did so with his small entourage, an amiable yet serious cast to his mien. He wanted to rekindle his friendship with Reichart; it was important for Zaichaer even more than his honest pleasure that his old friend had survived and, against all odds, thrived. But these were serious times with serious problems and he didn't think he should behave as though they were schoolhouse chums, not in front of their men.

"Captain Reichart," he said, saluting.

[Rune]

The camps that were under the command of Captain (Acting Brigadier General, Acting Rear Admiral) Reichart were orderly, if a little haphazard for all the trees. From above those who departed the Black Swan could see that the tents were lined up as well as could be managed, supplies were stored safely, fortifications were established and maintained, one could even see drills being performed under the command of sergeants.

When they arrived on the ground the young officer who greeted them, but did not identify himself gave the group a once over that was not friendly, but neither was it specifically hostile. Once he was informed of Eitan's name and rank and intention he told the group that they could follow him. As he led through the camp a discerning eye would see that while order was kept all was not well. The medical tents held significant numbers of wounded, the uniforms were clean but much mended, or, in some cases, torn and not mended. The supplies dumps were guarded, though it was obvious no incursion were expected, and there was a lean look to each face they passed.

It became obvious that they were being led to the command tent, of a size between a sleeping tent and the larger medic ones. There were no easily identifiable markings on it, but anyone who had served in prolonged ground combat would have been able to recognize it. Only Deinerin, of those who followed Eitan had, but he caught his master's eye and gave a subtle nod to indicate their destination.

The soldier that led them threw back the tent flap and then seemed significantly irked when Eitan and crew followed him in directly. His eyes rolled slightly at Eitan's address and spoke over the end of it,

"General Reichart, there is a Captain Angevin to see you." He had perhaps been intending to say 'requesting to see you' but as the whole group was already inside, it was moot.

The interior was set up mostly as a conference and planning space, a large table took up the center and there were braziers for warmth and light in each of the four corners. Maps were laid out over the table with pencil writing and make-shift wooden markers that one who knew the state of Zaichaer well could recognize as locations of troops and airships. Benedikt Reichart was standing on the opposite side of the table as the entrance, leaning on one fist, gesturing with the other hand as he spoke quietly but seriously to the other three officers gathered around. There were more lines about his forehead and eyes than there had been the last time he and Eitan had met, and he looked tired. Not the sort of tired one is after a day of battle, but the sort of weariness that sinks into the bones of a person after months of unending exhaustion. He also bore the look of one who has lost more weight than is good for them recently, but he wore it better than did most of his men. It took a moment before he finished speaking and then looked to the young escort, frowning as his mind replayed what had been said.

"Angevin? Is it Orilla or R..." Here he actually looked over at who else had entered and he stood straight abruptly eyes widening as if he was fully seeing what he was looking at for the first time.

"Eitan?" The voice betrayed that he knew he was right but either did not quite believe it or was trying to reconcile the man he'd last known with the one who now faced him.

[Eitan Angevin]

The Captain-Seeker could almost sense Lessnau bristling, but thankfully, the man held his tongue. Diplomacy! And they were all Zaichaeri citizens here. He and his men followed briskly, not letting the man leave them in his wake. Angevin took in everything as they walked without seeming to gaze everywhere; so too did his people. In the command tent, leadership sat well upon Reichart's shoulders. A slight frown marred his face at the mention of his sisters.

"The very same," he agreed when his own name was uttered. "Unfortunately, Captain Orilla Angevin did not survive the cataclysm, and while her body was not recovered, Captain Regan Angevin is also presumed dead. I apologize for my mistake, though. I wasn't aware of your field promotion, although it would seem you have earned it. Running a tight ship, keeping ZDC and ZADC forces in lock-step. We came on a ship built for speed rather than cargo hold, but we do have some supplies for you: medical as well as foodstuffs logistics figured you would be hard-pressed to find in the forest." He relaxed somewhat, and continued. "Delia and I traveled to Gel'Grandal to deal with the Guild of Coin—first to execute Admiral Angevin's will, and then to encourage their investment in the rebuilding of the High City. I dropped her off with Vonnegut. General Overmann brokered a peace with Kalzasi, so we are trying to bring people home to help us reclaim the city with greater speed..."

The Captain-Seeker paused. There were people watching, listening. He rather wished Reichart had immediately cleared the room.

"To speak plainly, we are here to foster collaboration. Zaichaer remains broken despite our efforts. We have to pull ourselves... all of ourselves... together." He paused and recalled his previous compliment. "Lock-step."

He wanted to shake his hand, to clap him on the shoulder, but he maintained his poise and waited for Reichart to make his next move.

[Rune]

The acting general blinked at the information he was given, it was a lot, and of several points he was not sure why he was being informed. It took him a long moment to remember who 'Delia' was and when he did he was only more confused. He waved away the apology and then glanced around at his own men, and Angevin's, waved them away as well. This was because, however much or little he understood of what he was being offered, he was being offered it freely, by a man he trusted.

"Could you have your men show mine to the supplies? Private Müller, show them where things can be stored." The snooty ZDC man who had brought them offered a stiff salute and then turned toward the rest of Eitan's party expectantly waiting for them to proceed him out of the tent. The higher officers who had been attending whatever the meeting had been about offered their own salutes to Reichart and to Eitan before making their own way from the back exit.

Thus in a few moments the large tent, feeling even larger, held only the Reichart and Angevin and silence for about an equal amount of time. Benedikt still stood, not quite at attention, in a posture that implied control and a calm steadiness, then, all at once, this fell away from him and he crossed the space between them in a few quick strides.

"By the hells, Eitan, it's good to see you!" It looked as if he might grab his old friend, either by the shoulders or in a hug but something in his eyes seemed to stop him. The look said that he wasn't sure if they were as good of friends as they had been the last time they had met and that he wasn't sure if they still could be, however much he might want it for his own part. Clearing his throat to try and cover his aborted embrace he said,

"You're with Overmann then? The Government in Exile?"

[Eitan Angevin]

Angevin nodded at his small entourage, and they followed Müller, though he imagined Lessnau would peel away and go looking for a member of the Order of Reconciliation. There were several avenues by which they could make inroads here. After they were alone and there was the pause to think, Eitan's arms began to rise and spread, but then the embrace didn't happen and, after a regretful pause, he let them fall back to his sides.

"Good to be seen, Benno!" he said, and reached up to clap him on the arm. Perhaps they weren't on hugging terms, but if they could rebuild their friendship, then perhaps both their people would benefit from it.

Based on Benedikt's reaction to the death toll, and then mistaking him for one of Overmann's, he inhaled, held his breath a moment in consideration, and then sighed.

"No, I was on the ground when it happened. In Zaichaer proper. Nearly died holding wards over the Windworks, but... it was not my time. Overmann's still not in Zaichaer helping, just currying favor with the government of Kathiid. He got the pidge army off our backs, at least—but I'm with those who stayed behind. The Windworks took to the air. A few more buildings with it. A lot of thet remaining fleet. The remains of the Order. Refugees. Mists, even the covens have come over, volunteered to register for licenses..."

He paused lest he babble their accomplishment.

"Sounds like you aren't getting a lot of intel out here." He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "All right. Overmann's in Kathiid—I don't know, playing warlord martyr and jerking off. There's a contingent of... mostly wealthy refugees in Gel'Grandal. Playing poor disinherited rich kids, I suppose. Commanders Lang, Vonnegut, Hillebrand, and Landau held their riverland forts. General Jäger is north of the city, and is getting cozy with Lang. Major General Deutsch is at the northern border, and he is allying with Hillebrand. I don't know if they intend to march on the capital or just carve out smaller territories to control. And you... you're lost in the woods." He didn't say that with disdain, but rather with admiration and a sort of fatalistic awareness of where Zaichaer was now.

"Zaichaer's resources are all over the place, and that's the problem. We have Science Minister Dornkirk, the ranking civilian leader. We have quite a bit of the cultural and industrial heritage of the city protected, active. Right now, there's a council of civilians, military, and Order making decisions. My sister and I were in Gel'Grandal dealing with our father's will, but also courting the Guild of Coin. Dornkirk's made trading partners so we can export what we produce and inport what we need. But we really need manpower to take back the rest of the city. There are mist-crazed anarchists holed up where the Mists were the worst. Abominations coming out of the Warrens. Things are contained. We are making slow, strategic progress.

"I'm not saying the eastern border doesn't need guarding, but the heart of Zaichaer needs you. My sister is in talks with Vonnegut right now, we'll talk to Landau soon, as well. If we can pull all of you back into the fold, then perhaps the others will follow. We're not trying to divide up Zaichaer any more than it already is... Mists, I've missed you, Benno."

[Rune]

The leader that Reichart had become took over, though not in the same way as it might have in another man. It didn't change him, it just adjusted his perception. He listened, attentive, nodding specifically to different pieces of information. Some were things he knew, others he had suspected, those that he had not known made sense.

More than just taking the report, he was observing Eitan himself, his tone, his posture, the words he chose. Because, more than he was a good soldier, more than he had turned out to be a good airman or a strategist, or even a leader, Reichart had an instinct. His mind sucked in information like a machine, and what that machine churned out was solutions. It was this quality that had risen him through the ranks of the ZDC, then the ZADC. It was what had put him in the position he was in now, and it was telling him to trust his friend.

When Eitan reached out and clapped him on the shoulder he returned the affectionate gesture so that it was almost an embrace, and when the initial torrent of information seemed to have slowed he waved them both over to his maps. Spread out they detailed his entire force, both land and air; their numbers, deployment and what supplies were available. An astute military mind with even basic training could read his situation, which was not dire, but was a few bad decisions from being so.

The Acting General-Admiral was maintaining. The orders that had been given to his now-deceased superiors of both branches had been to patrol the border in case of enemy incursion and maintain control over the villages and logging operations that constituted one of Zaichaer's major industries.

Reichart had done this, when the 34th cut them off from all orders that he could be sure of, when the mists swept down to turn soldiers, civilians and wildlife into enemies, when the Eclipse had spawned shadow fiends that had resisted all forms of traditional armaments; he held the ground. Without the ability to grow food in the traditional manner due to the seasons not changing, keeping supplied had been like a whole additional enemy to fight, but through all of it, he'd maintained the border and protected the people who were left.

Not all of what he had done would be immediately visible on the maps and other information he now openly exposed to Eitan, but the other man knew what dangers and deprivations he would have encountered, and the bones of the story were there for him to pick up.

After giving Angevin time to observe and process the information he offered in return for what he'd been given he said,

"You said Minister Dornkirk is coordinating from the city? In the air? I'd heard rumors of this but, to be honest with you, I've had enough to deal with just keeping things running, no scouts to spare. I've a few larger ships that we managed to ground during the worst of it, but we don't have the sailors to crew them anymore. Mists, I hate sending out any ships with open decks when, at any moment, those damned shadows might appear and begin tearing through my men."

Staring down at his maps he ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that would be intimately familiar to Eitan, it was what he did when presented with a problem he didn't have a solution for. Finding a solution was what Benedikt did and there was nothing he found more frustrating than failing at it.

[Eitan Angevin]

It was almost like being back at the academy, looking over some desperate situation in an attempt to find a workable solution. Without thinking, his hand reached out to follow Benedikt's route, petting his hair in a way that was far too familiar. He didn't say anything about it, though, didn't know if it was a mistake or not. He cleared his throat.

"Look, I'm here to bring you in if you'll come. Leverage our friendship to unite our forces. I've always been straight with you, Benno. I always will. I think it's the best for Zaichaer, for you, and for me. But regardless of what you decide..." And here he spent several minutes pointing out possible dangers and opportunities nearby of which the man might not be aware. He even pointed out the position of the Dornkirk hunting lodge where they could flee if they were in the area and need resupplying. "And... I'm going to stay long enough to ward all your ships, grounded or otherwise. Whether or not you join us. I want you with us, but if you aren't... I want you as safe as I can make you.

"We have Kindred witches and botanists teamed with farmers and biologists... growing crops faster than should be possible. We need to reconnect the pieces of Zaichaer. Food and tech for you, wood and troops for us. We have airmen to spare, we can help you increase aerial patrols; you can help us with the ground-pounders to retake the city itself. And I'm not asking for cannon fodder, either. We are trying to save every life, preserve every life. If... If I can't persuade you outright, would you at least bank on my word of honor? Come to the Sky Islands for the day of remembrance on the 34th. It's the day we were shattered; it's now the day we can reunify..." He put his hand on Benedikt's shoulder.

"You have done amazing things here, Benno, but... You don't have to go it alone. You know me. You have trusted me in the past. Trust me now. You went from airship captain to... what? Brigadier General and Rear Admiral? I went from a captain without an airship to... fuck, the captains in the city want to make me admiral. The Order in Zaichaer and the Sentinels in the other cities are banking on me as High Sentinel. We are all doing more than we thought we would. We are all worn thin. But this is our opportunity to rise to the occasion, and we don't have to do it alone. Dornkirk is an excellent man, perhaps even better than his brother, the First Minister. He has been forged in fire just as I have, just as you have.

"I'm a soldier, not a diplomat. So forgive me if I'm not subtle. But join us and you can remain Rear Admiral and Brigadier General if you want... or you can go back to the simplicity of being an airship captain, and you will have a say in what happens to those who have dutifully followed you. You can be on the council, help decide how the new Zaichaer is formed, or you can just be a soldier and a citizen. It's really up to you.

"I'm so fucking glad you survived... When Dornkirk asked me to speak to you, when I knew you were alive..." He wasn't tearing up. He wasn't.

He was reaching out a hand, though.

[Rune]

As absorbed into the problem as he was, as he had been, delving into it from every angle for so long he did it in his sleep, the touch didn't surprise him. He turned his face into it till it pushed his hair into a jaunty angle, as he always had. It was a near thing that he didn't wink at the end, but he was looking Eitan square in the face, light eyes into dark, searching.

"I missed you too." It was quiet, almost without inflection, potent. Then,

"I believe you. Walk me through it." He needed to see all of it, as much of 'all of it' as Eitan had. As he listened his eyes fell to the map table, though it didn't seem like he was really seeing it. When he was really listening, Reichart didn't look at the speaker, found that it distracted him, he let his eyes unfocus, devoted all of his mind to understanding. Eitan would know and it was a sign of Benedikt's trust, a sign that he was taking every word as fact.

He refocused his vision enough to mark several positions on his maps, asking confirmation of them, and his eyes darted up to Eitan's again at the mention of wards, asking,

"You can ward against the shadows?"

When he got confirmation of that too he blew out his cheeks, but then nodded and waited for more. He didn't bat an eye or quirk a brow at the mention of the Covens. He might have, had the circumstances been different, but they were an asset, and you didn't balk over where your ammo came from when the bullets were flying.

By the end of the info dump some of the tension had gone out of his body, and to his credit, he didn't look as though he might collapse with it gone. Glancing down at the hand on his shoulder he met Eitan's eyes again and gave him a very slightly lopsided smile,

"We always said we'd be Admirals." An emotion flashed through his expression, lightning quick and then gone, the suggestion that, had a great many things been different, what Eitan was offering might have gotten him kissed. It was business between them now, but a business built on their friendship, and that wasn't lost on either of them.

"Better than Brenner Dornkirk? Who you couldn't go two minutes without singing the praises of? I must meet this man." It was teasing, but not entirely. Benedikt had realized that some of what Eitan had said in his youth had been hero worship, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. That the man had reached First Minister at such a young age had born out the youthful infatuation. He shook his head at the mention of promotions though,

"I don't need to be bribed. I'll keep whatever rank I've earned once everything shakes out. You keep my men safe and fed, get us orders from an authority I can justify following, and we'll work things out between us."

He meant the two of them, but he also meant their two 'factions', as he was beginning to realize, with disappointment, was the reality of the situation. Through no intention of his own, by not attaching himself to any of the higher ranking generals, he had taken a stance as his own power, and, it seemed, something similar had gone down with the one Minister who seemed to still be alive.

"Here," He said, moving around the table to a cabinet and pulling from it a map of the whole of Zaichaer that had not been marked on. Rolling it out on the table and using some of the troop markers to weigh the ends down he took a pencil and began quickly drawing lines, making one note in each section this created with the name of a general on it, with arrows designating the possible alliances. For having just learned of a lot of it, it was surprisingly accurate, probably more accurate than Eitan could have drawn from memory.

"Does this look about right?" When he got a confirmation he nodded, studied his write-up for a long moment and then nodded again.

"Okay, so, you're the only faction with any legitimacy in the city, and you've got at least nominal connections with all the fort generals?" He made a few more notes as Eitan responded, "The old guard are holding together, no surprise there. Hilldebrand and Deutsch have been fucking since she was a Captain and he was a private on her ship."

He tilted his head from side to side like another person might have done with their hand to indicate that their connection was not totally solid in his estimation.

"They'll listen to each other but neither is going to risk their position to support the other. If we get one we'll probably get the other, but getting either will involve little short of bribery."

[Eitan Angevin]

There was only a moment he could spare to be warmed by the reciprocation, and then they were talking tactics. His smile at younger days and their desire to be admirals was complicated, but not unhappy. It was a difficult dance he made between his old ambitions and the exigencies of circumstances. He was making leaps and bounds, but only because he was devoted to Zaichaer's survival.

"Forgive me," he begged. "I didn't intend to bribe you, but... We are doing good in Zaichaer. You are doing good on Zaichaer's eastern border. I'm... too invested in what good we could do together."

Reichart made quick, efficient, and correct work of the map he scribed. Eitan's nod was approving, but Reichart had always impressed him. Now it was more difficult to impress him, but he seemed as facile at is as he always had been.

"I have to agree about our legitimacy," he agreed. "We have the ranking civilian leader, as well as the ranking leaders of Order and air force. What we lack are the ZDC authorities. Minister Dornkirk has good relationships with the riverland commanders, but... as you say, some of them are balancing their loyalties to Zaichaer against what they can personally gain from the conflict. If you join us, and if Delia gets Vonnegut to join us, then we just have to build on that momentum. I can reach out to Landau. If you can tell me what it would take to bribe Hillebrand and Deutsch, well, we'll get one or the other, and then the other with the one. At that point, Lang and Jäger will know we've won, and they will fall in line. At that point, Overmann will know he's outmatched and he'll either join us or stay in Kathiid. We need every capable soldier we have, but if I'm High Sentinel, I can get the Sentinel of Kathiid to order the Watchers with Overmann back to Zaichaer, and Mists, we might even get mutinies to join us from his ranks. If Delia and I can get the Guild of Coin to acknowledge us, then the Free Citizens in Gel'Grandal will follow, and then all we have to do is quash the anarchists... who are Mist-fucked anyway.

"I'll ward your ships. I'll ward your camp. We'll trade you food for lumber, and whatever else. But if you join us, it's a given. It'll just be easier to work in lock-step."

Eitan felt a thrill, and perhaps in his inspired grin Reichart might remember the best of him from their academy days.

"Are you with me?" he asked, putting his hand out. He probably ought to have asked, are you with us? but personal relationships often superceded true diplomacy. This was a point of convergence, a pivot. They could well and truly save Zaichaer if the cooperated. If they didn't, it would take exponentially longer, and their enemies would have more time to sniff out the blood in the water and attack, whether honestly or under the guise of helping as the Imperium seemed to think was believable.

[Rune]

Some of the things Eitan said sounded like propaganda. Nothing he said felt like a lie, or even an attempt to be anything less than open and honest, but Reichart's father had been a merchant, a salesman, and he knew a pitch when he was hearing one. The thing about it was, someone could believe what they were saying, it could even be true, and still be propaganda. And this particular pitch was doing its job, he could know that, analyze it properly, and still be caught up in the way it felt.

He, they, his group of men, had been fighting hard for more than a year, different enemies, different struggles, but it had never stopped. Holding on, not giving up, it took effort of a deeper kind mentally than even it did physically, so, when someone came along offering a way out, it looked good. Particularly when that someone was a person you knew and trusted, had fought beside, slept beside. A part of him had already committed to the cause Eitan was championing, he'd let that slip when he'd used the word 'we' as his mind had begun to analyze the situation with the new information he'd been given. The slip didn't mean he was giving himself over, but, unless the things Eitan was telling him were lies, which he didn't believe in his head or his gut, it was the chance he and his had been literally holding out for.

Standing up straight he looked at Eitan, face slightly creased in thought, then back down at the map, then back to his friend again.

"You swear on the State, Eitan, that Dornkirk is worth following? If you do, if you can look me in the eyes and tell me he is loyal to the greater good over himself or his ambitions, then..."

He gave a short, strong nod, "I'm with you. We, are with you."

There was a lot to be discussed, his group couldn't simply pull out of the area, not and leave the lumber production protected, but he could devote his intention toward the faction with the best intentions. He didn't know Stefan Dornkirk, but he did know the other generals, the only people with enough power to do what was needed, and while there were a few he would believe were working to their best ability to restore the State, there weren't any he believed were capable of it. Those who were capable were to obsessed with their own bids for power, or too stuck in the old ways to be able to change as was needed. So, the only option left was...