Chapter 8: War and Peace
The war had gone on for weeks now. It had consisted mostly of border skirmishes between the now-occupied Hall of Heroes and Emporia (Columbia's Capital).
In addition, some of the wealthy members of the Founder party had taken refuge in the Tribe of La Venta. A neighboring tribe, the Vancouverites, hated the Founders and declared war on La Venta for their willingness to help them. But ultimately, the Vancouver-La Venta conflict would become little more than a footnote in history books-neither tribe could destroy the other or greatly affect the outcome of the GUN-Founder war.
Comstock had written letters to the president asking if he'd be interested in a peace treaty. The President sat in his office, rolling the idea around in his head, and weighed the merits of both ideas around in his head.
Invading Emporia would not be an easy task by any means. It was much more fortified than the Hall of Heroes was. It had a lot more forests around it, and it would be much harder to just bombard it with catapults. Emporia was guarded by the Order of the Raven.
He looked out the window. He could see the war protesters there. People were happy to fight against the Founders, until they realized the war would be funded with their money and their blood.
He continued to think about whether or not to sign this treaty. The terms were simple: Columbia would pay reparations to the Federation and even allow it to keep the area it's already taken. In return, the Federation would give it recognition as a legitimate state.
The Founders were scared. They knew the end was arriving. They were within striking distance. If the GUN can plant flags into Emporia, then Columbia will free forever. And then...nobody will have to concern themselves about cults of personality, or what to do with harbored slaves, or worry about armies attacking their cities.
And surely, if they kill the Founders once and for all...they will never be a threat to anyone again. The Founders will surely try again. They cannot remain stable without their slavery, their hatred, their cults.
He took out two photographs from a filing cabinet. One was of an injured soldier, the other of a beaten slave. He compared the two. Which horrified him more? He put the photos back and then looked out the window back at the protesters.
He sighed and then took out his pen and paper and wrote this letter:
To General Abraham Tower:
I know you care deeply for the people under your command. Every soldier lost must feel as some kind of personal failure. You would spend all the time you could thinking of a way to fight the Founders without risking such high casualties.
But no such way exists. The time has come to recognize that, our nation cannot endure if we are not willing to make the necessary sacrifices in the name of justice. Our honor as people, and as a nation depends on it.
You are a father to your men. Make no mistake: the battle you are about to enter will be like nothing that has ever occurred since the cataclysm. You must carry your soldiers to victory. You must inspire them and give them strength to fight on. Only then can we win.
He got up from his desk and then opened the door. A woman stood outside, with a bag. The President said "Take this to the Abraham Tower, ma'am."
The woman took it, and nodded before running off.
The President sat down and sank into his chair, before looking out the window again. He broke down in tears, for he knew that tomorrow, he would have the blood of hundreds on his hands.
