"Well, I don't think the Indian resistence can do much, sir," started the Military Advisor in reply to Hannibal's question. "After all, we've got Ghandi and--"
He was cut off by the loud, dull clang of the lock on the door being undone. All the Generals in the room tilted their heads toward the entry way at the noise in surprise - what could possibly be the reason for interupting the emergency session on what to do about potential Indian rioting?
Hannibal looked up from the scrolls of parchment before him on the situation room's massive table, staring at the door with mild disdain while waiting for it to open. Some time elapsed and the door showed no signs of moving. Hannibal narrowed his eyes and let out an irritated command of "Enter!"
The heavy oak doors slowly swung open on their wrought iron hinges in response, two guards - elites among the famed Numidian Mercenaries on which the Carthaginian army depended for defense - guiding each to one side. From between them the domestic advisor walked forth. Hannibal tilted his head slightly, noticing several attendants carrying some large piece of parchment behind her, along with the other four members of the Council of Six. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
"The solution to our current problems," she stated frankly as she walked to the head of the desk opposite Hannibal's position, before she motioned for the attendants carrying the massive scroll to approach. As they did so, Hannibal and his Generals could see that it was the type used for maps - and just as this fact became apparent one end was placed on the table by the aides and the whole affair unrolled before them.
What Hannibal saw intrigued him, although he did not immediately grasp the strange symbols upon it.
"It's Carthage!" exclaimed one of the Generals. "Not just Carthage, but most of France and some of Persia too!" interjected another. "It is everything North of the Atlas Divide and a good bit of terrain South of it as well" interupted the Science Advisor, walking up alongside the Domestic Advisor. "Aside from reports our costal expedition sent back long ago, it's about as much as we know of the interior of this land - most reports beyond the ones used to construct this are sketchy at best," he continued.
Hannibal was intrigued by the strange symbols upon the map and pondered them, remaining silent for some moments before finally speaking up, his booming voice echoing through the mostly empty room despite its small size "What do these markings mean? Start with these strange rings around our cities and the dots with the same rings."
The Domestic Advisor leaned over the table, tracing a finger along the circles "These, sire, mark what our Sooth-Sayers believe to be roughly the effective amount of territory a single city can control and utilize."
She then tapped one of the dots with the same finger "While these represent the ideal locations for new cities, based on both amount of terrain controlled and physical location."
Hannibal stroked a hand through his beard as if contemplating this "So this is a sort of... expansion plan? What do the X-shapes mean?"
"Terrain that can be brough under Carthaginian control but not effectively worked due to distance from large populations, sir," stated the Science Advisor. Hannibal nodded thoughtfully, before gesturing at the map "Then I must say, you have me most curious why exactly there are crosses through five of the recently captured Indian cities..." he paused, before smirking slightly "is that to indicate they are to be wiped out?"
The Domestic Advisor began to respond but the Foreign Advisor, until then quiet, beat her to the punch, exclaiming "It is completely unethical! We cannot simply burn cities and build new ones right next to them! Think of the lives lost! Think of our neighbor's reactions!"
"That's enough," mutter Hannibal, but the Foreign Advisor kept spouting his commentary "They would declare war! They would band together to--"
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" yelled Hannibal, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands on the table, the force of his replied enough to draw expressions of shock from those in the room. "Be silent, or be
silenced," he added in a hiss. The Foreign Advisor seemed to shrink away into the shadows at the violent outburst, but Hannibal paid him no heed, instead looking back down to the map "Does it mean these cities are to be burned?"
The Domestic Advisor seemed hesitant to reply but eventually mustered the courage "Not necessarily sir, we could institute a forced resettling program - using a mix of our settlers and Indian ones would speed up the process, and we could just abandon the cities once their replacements were in position. Loss would be..."
"Minimal" added the Science Advisor, rather clinically. A moment too short to have revealed the true gravity of the discussion passed before a new voice was hear. "I understand the presence of five X's on the Indian cities," began one of the Generals, "but I don't see why there are three X's on French cities as well... including their capitol of Paris... nor what these squares with X's in them represent."
The Military Advisor placed his hands on the desk and pushed himself to his feet, pushing his chair back into place before stabilizing himself. "Although I can't say I expected this to be the topic of discussion to-day," he said in a strange drawl, "this part of the map was my reckonin'."
He began to pace about the table slowly and deliberately, gesturing at the map as he talked, all eyes following him. "All ya'll know the Atlas Divide is what seperates us from the rest of the continent. It's the highest mountains we know of. It's also the widest - and it happens to run our whole border. Now it's also well known that it is easier to defend on a mountain than out in the middle'a nowhere."
"Get to the point" uttered Hannibal. The Military Advisor coughed before continuing "Point bein', sir, that it is my belief that a series of about sixteen massive fortifications, with a fortress city as the lynch-pin, could secure the entire land border'a Carthage."
The Generals exchanged curious glances with one another and whispered discussion began all up and down the length of the table, but was quickly silence when Hannibal held up a hand to quiet them. The Military Advisor resumed his discussion on the details "Now, it'd take a lot of manpower to build a system like that--"
"Manpower we don't have - and which would need to be used on our internal infrastructure first" added the Domestic Advisor. "... it'd take a lot of manpower to build a system like that - plus you got them Frogs camped out on the other side of the mountains, blockin' some of the accesses and sites. That's why there's three X's, 'cause it's my recommendation we take'em out to get the sites."
"Completely unjustified!" shouted the Foreign Advisor from some unlit corner of the room. Hannibal lifted one of his large, leathery hands and pointed in the direction of the noise before yelling "Get him out of here!"
The guards manning the doors promptly made their way to the area and began to drag the offending advisor from the room, kicking and screaming all the way. His last words that could be heard in the room were "You'll never get away with it!"
Hannibal waited until the din had died down before looking down at the map, when another of the Generals interjected "Wouldn't it just be easier to take all of France out if we're going to wipe out several of their major towns?"
"All of France..." pondered Hannibal aloud. At that moment one of the runners the military used to relay messages entered the room, accompanied by other Numidian Mercenaries. He seemed out of breath but was able to relate his message "General Hannibal... I was sent to bring you word... that Bomilcar is well on his way to his rendezvous with the D.S.A. in Rusaddir..."
"Rusaddir" repeated Hannibal. He smiled - the kind one would see on a crocodile. "Bomilcar and the D.S.A. in Rusaddir and all of France..."
He then let out a booming, hearty laugh, and all around him stared silently.
The Trade Advisor sighed and whispered "All I wanted to say was we need more resources..."
But no one heard her.
Nice installment.
