[hr][center][img]https://snappygoat.com/b/46d64bdda686fafbab29233e6e986f5a8e717388[/img][/center][hr][sub][color=FDAD07][b]Windsor, Integrated Republic of Detroit[/b][/color][/sub]

[indent]The body language in Windsor was understandably tense. The President of the Republic had been rushed out of Detroit as soon as cultists broke through the downriver area. President Traowski was kicking herself with every fiber of her being for ignoring the signs or focusing on the raiders in Canada over preventing this from ever getting to this point. But how could she expect underhandedness within the republic itself? Of people she had supported and trusted with the safety of the republic? The former general gritted her teeth in unease as she looked across the river to see what she had been given in return for her support and trust.

The jewel of the republic and the city that bore its namesake had been set ablaze by her worst enemies.

But President Traowski knew what Detroiters valued and the people who lived there were not going to surrender it – they weren’t going to accept any foreign power destroying their way of life. Whether they were human or ghoul the answer was going to be rather simple. The cult was going to find itself pushed back by every facet of republican society. The robotics factories that had been recovered under the previous administration would mobilize, the ghouls who had lived in Detroit since the Pre-War times would claw back at them, and every post-war man, woman, and child would push back with everything they had. It was a sentiment that Traowski herself agreed upon. And with the capital under siege by foreign powers there was no longer any need to play politician. In her mind, it was now the time for action; time to declare martial law, and time to deal with the cultists and their supporters with all of her strength and resources that were available while the people in Detroit that were left tried to hold their own. 

The blonde-haired woman looked back to the man behind her, the Governor of Windsor, Howard Bouley.

“I need you to mobilize every inch of Windsor you can. If we don’t deal with the cultists now, Windsor will share Detroit’s fate in a few weeks time.”

Bouley didn’t deny her, giving a nervous nod. “Of course, Madame President.”

She wasn’t surprised that Bouley was in support of the action – after all, much like the President, he had been a solider before he became a politician. The only way to deal with the Cult would be to put everything they had, mobilize it, and throw it back at the cult. No matter how good of a tactician the cultist commander was, he was only one man and the President intended to take him alive and put his still breathing corpse on a pyre of her own design; an eye for an eye.

As Bouley walked off to begin preparations, President Traowski mulled over some thoughts about the issues Detroit had suffered in the last few months and how to go about pushing back the cultists who thought they could achieve absolute victory in Detroit. Even with all of Windsor’s resources mobilized and Detroit’s resistance against the cultists there was something to be said about needed help. Independent Settlements had likely defined it as “Detroit’s problem” by this point and none of the forces further northeast in Canada would be timely enough of support. But there was one group that had been reaching out to them for months now, a fact that she didn’t know until she had expelled corruption within her administration. The Brotherhood of Steel had an agenda of their own, but she knew that conversing with them was a valuable option even if in the end they had their own agenda for Michigan.

But for now, a compromise had to be made to secure Detroit. She would deal with the consequences after the fact. She just hoped that reaching out to the Brotherhood wouldn’t be the worst decision of her presidency. 

As she looked at Detroit from across the river she wondered when she would hear back from them.
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