Zebulon was entirely at a loss at what to do. It was common knowledge that guardsmen tended to be woefully unprepared for the various horrors they faced in the galaxy, even among the guards themselves. Their field manual was used for toilet paper or wadding of different sorts, more often than not. However, he had faced Orks and traitors before, and now cultists in the streets. What he never thought he would have to deal with was speaking amongst high ranking imperial officials, a commissar, and a planetary governess who apparently adored him. It made him a tad apprehensive, which likely amused both of the women in his present company, likely for different reasons. 

What COULD they do, without wholesale opening fire on the populace and letting the Emperor save his own? He guessed any inquisitor or someone in the administratum would suggest it, regardless of loss of life. He had to learn the hard way when he left his home that the Imperium was a 'big picture' sort of state. 

As the 'council' of the planet was debating amongst themselves, Zebulon was lost in thought and mostly ignored until the governess called upon him to speak. 

"Corporal, you have been awfully quiet." She commented, watching him. 

The general barked a laugh, unable to help himself. "Because he's not allowed to speak unless spoken to." 

"Well, I am speaking to him." She shot back, her tone now cold and firm. "And he may speak freely here. If these cultists overrun the palace, we'll all be dead, rank or no." 

"Which is why we should kill them all!" The general growled, trying and failing to appear intimidating. The governess, attractive though she was, was much better at the game than he and rose out of her seat. 

"I said I was speaking to the corporal," she warned, her tiredness and agitation evident in her voice, making it clear her next warning wasn't an idle threat. "Speak again out of turn and you will be forcefully ejected from the palace grounds, general." 

That made the man button his lip begrudgingly, and all eyes turned to Zeb. He swallowed and cleared his throat, speaking his mind with a question first. 

"Do we know how the rebels coordinated their movements?" He asked. The governess waved her hand so the general may speak. He acted as if he didn't notice the permission.

"No, if we knew that we would have stopped them." He sighed. "Besides, they're a mindless rabble."

"So all voxx channels are secure?" 

"Well...As far as we know." He replied, likely unsure himself but confident his subordinates had already checked. 

"Are you telling me you are uncertain?" The governess asked, venomously. 

"I have not been [i]briefed[/i] on it!" 

"See to it you are," Zeb interrupted, immediately regretting the tone he gave the man who could ruin his life a dozen times over in a thought. "These are mostly mindless rabble, but there must be some sort of intelligence behind it. Even Orks have a rough heirarchy. Speaking of which, my time on Lorn IV did show me that killing the leader generally solved a problem as well. If we can take out whatever communications they have and kill whoever leads them, it might not decimate the threat but it will reduce it significantly. At that point, I think we can go on the offensive."