Maréchal Noël patiently awaits as the various general officers, and a select few senior officers, file into the tent. Once the shuffling of feet and the jingle of metal and medals ceases, he clears his throat and speaks.
"Messieurs, I have called vous here as a développement has occurred and I feel it nécessaire to informer vous all of it as well as to gather a sense of your thoughts on whether or not we should procéder with it. The développement that I référer to is this."
He gives the tablet in his hand to the nearest officer.
"Read that and pass it to the officier to your right."
The first officer reading the tablet is shocked by its content and forgets to do as he was just instructed.
"Général d'armée Hugues."
The stern reminder shakes the badger out of his frozen state, with him quickly passing the tablet to the next person.
"Pardonne-moi Maréchal."
Noël gives only a brief nod of acknowledgement, waiting for all the men assembled to be handed the tablet and to read the information, which after a couple minutes of waiting is done, with the last officer handing the tablet to Edouard, who then returns it to its original holder, the marshal.
"Now that vous have all been brought up to speed regarding this développement, I wish to ascertain what all assemblé here believe our next course of action should be. I cannot acte without knowing the thoughts of all here. So, speak. Freely."
The company gathered is still processing the news and a brief moment of quiet holds until the first voice, coming from a brown hedgehog, ends it.
"Well Marshal, I bethink 'tis evident that we require ev'ry hand on deck f'r the final assault. The Soldi'r may be an unknown fact'r but I am willing to bet that he is as devot'd to the cause as any one of us. If 't be true that he's willing to reveal himself and joine us directly f'r the founding of our republic, then I saye 'Welcome Aboard'!"
A great brown bear vents a sharp scoff at these words.
"Of course, vous would say that."
The hedgehog's face explodes with anger at the insult.
"What the hell doth thee mean by that, Montcalm?! If 't be true thee has't something to saye, saye it, and to mine own face!"
"The fact of the matière of your Nordiste languette which stands in contrast to most of us Sudistes. There is also the fact that your famille as a whole is of royaliste caractère. I hold, and have held, concerns and doubt over the véracité of your alleged fidélité to the cause of forming this république. While vous may show férocité in bataille, it could just be a deception, waiting to be sprung at a temps as crucial as now. Involving Le Soldat into our operations and the planning of the assaut final is a majeur risk, and here vous are advocating for it immédiatement."
Another officer, this time a squirrel, speaks up.
"I speake the same as he doest, doth thee bethink I am to not to be trusted as well?"
The bear gives a short look and definitively turns his head up at the question, refusing to, in his eyes, dignify it with a response. This brings the hedgehog back into the fight.
"Thee arrogant bastard! I has't suff'r'd sc'rn from mine own friends and has't been disown'd by the v'ry same family you saye shouldst make me question mine own loyalties. I took the riske of approaching the cause despite knowing the distaste I wouldst most c'rtainly finde from people like thee, and still I did rise through the ranks. I has't been in enough foxholes and has't seen enough friends perish that any shr'd of doubt ov'r wh're mine own heart lies shouldst be naught m're than cind'rs. This movement fights to unifye the people, yet thee wouldst cast out those of us who speake diff'rently and split this lande between N'rth and South? If I hadst half a mind, I wouldst take thee outside and-"
"SILENCIEUX!"
Noël's deep voice carves straight through the heated noise and makes all submit before it. His raised hand drawing the gaze of all in the room. And in silence they stand, captivated at what was to come next, like children before their parents.
"Vous are acting like petulant enfants! Is this to be our destinée?! Torn apart by petit grudges and quarrels? We are fighting for millions of Mercians, and while their futur is at stake we bicker like couples mariés."
He pauses for a moment and glares at the bear.
"Général de corps d'armée Montcalm, I will NOT tolérer unfounded and prejudiced jugement against valued and vétéran officiers of this army. Est-ce que je m'exprime clairement?"
Montcalm, nearly twice the size of Noël, now looks little different than a boy chastised by his father, head lowered and eyes facing down.
"Oui, Maréchal."
"Considérer yourself lucky that I do not take further action than that. But if I must répéter myself on this matière again, such grâce will be absent."
The marshal quickly swivels his eyes to the hedgehog and squirrel.
"Général de brigade Beric, while I understand and sympathiser with your distaste for the statements Général de corps d'armée Montcalm made during an unfortunate 'temporaire lack of jugement', I also expecter discipline from my officiers, especially my officiers généraux. If vous cannot tempérer and contrôler your impulsif désir to battle with your own camarades over disagreements, how am I to expecter vous to do so with the enemei in the champ?"
The hedgehog, despite receiving a far less severe scolding than the bear, is still awash with contrition, his eyes meeting the marshal's, a remorseful look apparent within them.
"Mine apologies, Marshal."
"And as for vous Colonel Cuthred, what I said for Général de brigade Beric stands for vous as well, entendu?"
The squirrel gives a firm nod.
"Aye, Marshal."
With the hostile dialogue within the ranks cut off and dealt with, the marshal lets an air of calm claim the tent for a few moments, his eyes scanning across all present. With no one speaking, the sound of deep breathing is all that remains, and soon the atmosphere subsides into one of composure. Noël speaks once more.
"Now, Général de corps d'armée Montcalm, vous expressed concerns on meeting with and involving Le Soldat into the Armée de Libération Mercian. I would ask vous to élaborer on this view."
The bear seems equal parts surprised at and grateful for this magnanimous move.
"Well Maréchal, as I said, bringing him into our headquarters and letting him be privé to a grande quantité of délicat information is, if he is not truly who he says he is, possibly the most dangereux décision we could make as of this moment. Le Soldat has been suprêmement protecteur of his identité, we don't know a single détail about his apparence, what his voix sounds like, where he is from, if he's even a Mobian rather than an Overlander and, to be complètement franc, we don't even know if he is a 'he'. To go from absolu secrecy to total révélation immediatement seems highly suspect, doubly so when he also says he désirs to join us in this fight alongside us in le champ which, considering his primaire contribution to the cause has been intelligence gathering and ressource acquisition, is also rather bizarre. Although I do believe we should rejeter this request all together, at le minimum we should delay any such meeting and intégration until the attack on Marves is already well underway, to prevent any sabotage."
The room as a whole let the words of Montcalm soak in, with many appreciating the drastic improvement in logic behind his conclusion compared to his previous line of reasoning. While the jackal gives a pleased look, the fox moves to ask a key question.
"And what of the fact that he said that a réponse within seven heures was nécessaire, and that if we do not accepter, then we can consider our relation terminé?"
"Then we will live with our décision, confiant that it was the correct choix for the sécurité et stabilité of la république."
Beric takes the end of Montcalm's answer as a signal to begin the defence of his position.
"I und'rstand thy desire f'r caution and security, but in many wars the greatest vict'ries w're achieved by the taking on of a most wondrous many risks. Without riske th're can be no triumph, the v'ry fact we art all standing h're in the present day, discussing what we art, and being in sight of the ende is a testament to the multitude of risks we tooketh on, and how many of those hath paid off. We shouldst not, and cannot, allowe our desire f'r safety stande in the way of an ent'rprise as most wondrous as ours."
Noël smiles. His successful efforts to encourage constructive debate rather than pointless bickering are certainly reason enough for such a thing.
"And if 't be true that this not enough, th're is anoth'r reasone that I bethink even m're essential f'r why we shouldst reache out to The Soldi'r. We must starte bethinking about life aft'r the war."
As that last word departs from his lips, a sudden wave of lucidity crashes into all within the room. It really is something they haven't, and hadn't, given much thought to, especially recently. Sure, if you had asked them if they have plans once the war was over they would all respond with an "Of course!", but if you then asked them what they actually were, you'd be lucky to get anything more than vague plans and notions of "Forming a republic", "Healing the land", "Serving the people", and "Defending democracy". For a little over four years now, they've lived day to day, hour to hour, meal to meal, minute to minute, a life of such danger and instability means making personal plans that go beyond "How do I live to see next light?" tend to get put on the backburner. But, as they all know, the final assault on the capital, and thus the very real possibility of the end of the war, is fast approaching, and now they must face a question that greater men and women with greater resources and more time have failed to answer, "We've won the war, now how do we win the peace?". The ensuing dead air proves rather unnerving to everyone present, even the marshal seems somewhat perturbed. Beric intentionally lets it hang for just a bit longer than he is expected to, in order to unequivocally communicate his point.
"Aft'r the war, things art not suddenly going to become any easi'r. Immediately, we shall has't anywh're from a quart'r to a third of the population of our new republic that shall range from uncoop'rative to downright hostile, adde in devastation to the countryside and a host of cities, a collapsed trade sect'r, and possibly even a struggle to receive int'rnational recognition from neighbouring nations, we shall be facing a myriad of new and alien challenges. We shall neede to effectively repaire, rejuvenate, and raiseth Mercia, from a divisive and war-t'rn lande to a mod'rn and leading nation. In ord'r to und'rtake such a colossal task, we art going to needeth ev'ry advantage and asset we can possibly get a holdeth of. Right now, The Soldi'r is such an asset, someone who hast access to a wealth of mat'rial, financial, technological, and inf'rmational resources and a system by which to transf'r those that is so robust it can op'rate in the conditions and rig'rs of a civil war, a reality in which the ende of one side's t'rrit'ry and the beginning of the oth'r's is not clearly marked on a mape. This p'rson hast been helping us f'r almost two years and anon they are requesting to joine us directly in this war."
The tent starts to buzz with murmurs of understanding and agreement.
"Now I und'rstand those who is't view this off'r with skepticism, rightfully so due to its nature, such a reaction is both right and natural, but I has't something to saye that thee shouldst bethink on. Aske yourselves this, doth thee bethink that the cause of the republic can survive a betrayal from an individual? Even from someone liketh The Soldi'r?"
They give various answers, with even most of those opposed having to concede that it isn't likely for a single person to kill an entire republic. However, Montcalm is not so willing to give up.
"Doit I remind all present here about what happened to the foolish monarchie of the Acorns? They were rather inviting of étrangers into their cour royale, and how did Julian rembourser that confiance?"
While there are a good number of differences between this situation and Robotnik's betrayal, the similarities that did exist are no doubt vexing to everyone, with the marshal's massaging of his muzzle drawing much notice. Beric nonetheless moves to combat this suggestion.
"Such a thing is an anomaly in hist'ry! And thee f'rget about the oth'r Ov'rland'r they did invite, Doct'r Morgan, who nev'r did betray those folk and even did impose exile on himself to spare his benefact'r. And this is all presuppos'd on the idea that The Soldi'r is even an Ov'rland'r, which we has't nay reasone to suspecte."
Beric's rock solid counter forces Montcalm, despite his aversion to reaching out to Le Soldat, to acknowledge the point. With that derailment handled, Beric finishes his previous line of questioning.
"Now, aske yourselves this, doth thee bethink that the cause of the republic can survive without a prop'r plan f'r the peace?"
Despite not a soul in the tent saying a word, everyone gives an answer, the same one, through their silence. Beric crosses his arms, content to let his previously said words stand. Sensing that the debate is settled, the marshal moves to speak.
"Well, I think we are in concorde, and that the consensus reached is that we should acceptér this offer and take avantage of the opportunité to the fullest extent. I will respond to Le Soldat to informer him that a réunion between us is désirable. Messieurs, I remercier for your aide in compréhension this matière. Vous are libre de leave."
With that, all present give salutes and then exit the tent, leaving just the marshal and the jackal alone.
"Maréchal?"
"Oui, Edouard?"
"When Beric began to défendre the idea of intégrant Le Soldat into both this armée and, eventually, la république, I noticed vous were smiling. And when Montcalm brought up Robotnik, I saw vous displeased. Is it because vous always were planning on reaching out to Le Soldat?"
"My ami, a maréchal should always be open to a variété of ideas."
The fox's mouth produces a sly smile, a single tooth protrudes out into sight, accentuating the implication. Edouard cannot help but let loose a brief chuckle at the sight.
"Ne change jamais, Maréchal."
"Pas pour le monde entier, mais peut-être pour Mercia..."