2.02: HH Rev Marshal

Date: Monday 4 February 2041ce 0913z
Location: Last World Citadel, Louisville, Kentucky (-0500)

Most of the datapad alerts were set to Do Not Disturb; There were only a few things that would issue a sound at this hour.

Briefs from his agents in Military Intelligence weren’t usually the sort of messages to qualify as an exception, boring though necessary summaries of policy changes now that the western infidels had its foot on the throat of God’s intended empire. Should specific key words be found, however, the datapad would indicate an importance that the providing agent would not have been aware of.

None of the agents, for instance, would have known that activities in Aberdeen were of interest to him.

But they were; Some of even greater importance than others.

The datapad gave such an alert, intruding immediately upon Honored High Reverend Marshal’s awareness.

What’s happened?

Such alerts were of a singular sound; It wasn’t until he sat up and unlocked the pocket-sized computer that he had any indication of what the monitoring QAI had flagged for his attention.

It had been a long time since anything definitive had come out of Aberdeen; There were now enough eyes on them from above that an aerial strike would rain down on any raiding parties crossing the border without sanction. Those with sanction, per a TASC brief obtained for him some years ago, believed themselves successful, but they were engaged in trade (in defiance of Queen’s Law) with TASC agents disguised as black marketeers.

That they continued to do so without incurring the Queen’s wrath had given him cause to believe the witch finally dead.

The report was labeled First Glance; The Last World congregate serving within the lower ranks of NES Central Command had gathered the initial findings of an immediately-occurring situation and forwarded them to him. What was known wasn’t much, but the success of the Aberdeen raiders raised numerous immediate questions.

Questions with answers the secularists would never accept, though he knew the truth of it immediately.

“Is it you, dear sister?” he said out loud while setting the datapad down.

He raised himself out of the bed and drew the blinds from his window, gazing west-by-north-west.

“Or one of your bastard brood?” he added while his good eye focused in the direction of Aberdeen.

It had been years since Honored High Reverend Marshal had spoken with such venom.

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