The man being trained as next head of security for the Chosen Ones, Donovan, was getting a crash course in leadership at the hands of Elder Presence himself. Despite the stress he was under, Donovan's mentor exuded a calming aura of authority and confidence. The tall and dignified old man always knew exactly what to do and say in times of trouble.
The security division was having a very bad week, to put it lightly. As if the riots and looting weren't bad enough, the Wild Cards were running rampant. They flourished in the chaos, stealing and killing as they pleased. The whole situation was incredibly disheartening. Grandebelle’s growing civil unrest was a problem no one was prepared for and no one seemed capable of solving. As the days went on, a feeling of dread began to set in among the acolytes. Everyone else was losing hope. The leadership had to come up with a solution before the Chosen Ones' morale completely crumbled.
"Donovan, in times like these, you have to set an example for your men. There's nothing more demoralizing than seeing the people above you cower in fear. Remember, the Chosen Ones are the defenders of the world. We must be powerful, like a tower standing firm in the face of a raging storm."
"I understand, sir."
"Everyone is counting on us to get this situation under control. Our loyal armies of Chosen soldiers are eager to move at once, and it is our responsibility to ensure they don't fail. We must calmly evaluate the information in front of us, create a plan, and act decisively before more innocent blood is shed."
"It is as you say."
Elder Presence nodded, satisfied, and pulled up a map of the Pit on his computer covered in red dots representing civilian deaths. He tapped the screen and several red markers appeared around the site of one of the Chosen Ones' major Nuke distribution centers in the Old District, a few dozen blocks from the University District where the recent protest against police brutality took a tragic turn.
"It seems as though the Wild Cards are gathering their forces here... we must decide whether to run or fight."
"What shall we do, sir? We fought them off last night, but the battle was hard-won..."
Elder Presence took a moment to think, and the face of someone unexpected appeared in his mind. The face of someone short, beautiful, wise, careful, and tirelessly devoted to the Chosen cause. Miss Planner always seemed to know what to do, even when the Chosen Ones were at their most desperate. What would she suggest here? She would probably say...
"We shall evacuate. Fighting here offers us little tactical advantage... our other distribution centers are much better equipped to handle a siege. If we pull back now, we lose nothing but our pride. Let the Wild Cards believe they've won. When the time is right, they'll be dealt with accordingly."
"You don't think we should fight, sir?"
"Bah. Those hellions in the Wild Cards will run out of steam soon enough. I'm sure of it. What's the use of fighting a losing battle? The more pressing matter is here..."
The Elder zoomed in on another part of his map, the Cut Throats' headquarters in Sanders Point.
"The black organizations aren't targeting us and us alone. Our good friends the Cut Throats are in danger too. Are you familiar with their command structure? They hire people on an impromptu basis, meaning they have a distinct advantage over us in terms of adaptability and talent... and yet, their fighting forces are much less unified than ours. The Cut Throats are distinctly vulnerable to a head-on attack. We shall send the bulk of our forces to defend them."
Donovan didn't understand why his mentor was willing to abandon the Chosen Ones' distribution center to the Wild Cards and he definitely didn't understand why protecting the Cut Throats was so important, but he listened carefully regardless and prepared to do what he was told.
"No... what would she do?" muttered Elder Presence. "We shall... evacuate everywhere. We will only defend what we have to defend... yes, we will shutter all of our distribution centers except for the Tower and Spiritland. The Wild Cards can have the rest for now."
"Sir! You can't mean that. We can't do that! We need to stand and fight! Didn't you say... we can't cower in fear? If we run away, the Chosen Ones' reputation will be stained forever!"
"So be it. Our reputation will be stained forevermore. There's no need to look so distressed, boy. Which is more important, reputation, or human life? You know which one is more valuable to me. We will bide our time, and endure this crisis with our full strength intact. Yes. We will be patient and prepare ourselves like a viper coiled to strike."
"...yes, sir."
"It is better to fight where we are strong. Our enemies cannot harm us if we anticipate their movements and find the holes in their strategy. We must be patient and wait for the right opportunity. Now go. Communicate my orders. There's no time to waste."
Donovan left Elder Presence's office with a heavy heart. The Chosen Ones were going to lose big time without even attempting to defend themselves. He was angry, frustrated, and scared. He didn't agree with his boss's plan one bit. But Donovan knew this decision wasn't up to him. He put on a brave face, determined to do his best. He had a lot of work to do. Four distribution centers needed to be evacuated as quickly and discretely as possible. There wasn't a lot of daylight left, and moving equipment and supplies through the Pit wasn't going to be easy in the face of widespread riots.
