Ministry of War

- August 21st, early morning. Hall of War, Paramount Hill -

The Hall of War rose like the fang of some cyclopean beast in the center of Paramount Hill. It was a stone building of square angles and it could be seen from almost everywhere in Dusk. Only the Roost stood higher in the city's skyline.
It was one of the oldest buildings in existence and had many functions over the centuries. It was ugly and a constant reminder to all those that lived under it shadow in which district true power lied.

Marshall Maynard Benedict Fordham looked out to the city gazing across its features. His days always started early and he was often the first to arrive in the Ministry.
His office was in the old clock tower of the building. The room was spartan but adorned with all manners of military memorabilia including maps, weapons and blueprints of airships.
Here and there he saw barges trawling the Styx river transporting goods and people up and down its fetid waters.
He gazed at the amazing Peoples Palace, the pride of the city, an opulent wonder of metal work and technological artistry housing the City Council and the seat of the First Citizen Josiah Hazard. Not far away the Black Gallows rose, squalidly, where the most dangerous criminals were kept.
He saw people move around the clean and safe streets of the Centrum and business started to open their doors at the same time that those of the Rose District closed theirs.
He could the see the constant black smoke bellowing from the thousand chimneys of the Steamworks drifting into the winds and the Maelstrom above.

An image of his younger brother came to his mind. He found it odd. He had not thought of the fool for more than a decade. He wondered if he was still alive somewhere. He shrugged. It was of no importance.
A knock on the solid oak door brought him back to the matters at hand. He moved to his desk and sat down.
"Enter!"
His equerry entered the room to deliver the daily reports. The older man had performed the same function to his late father and was extremely efficient in his duties. Loyal to the core.
The man placed several files on the desk in front of Maynard and saluted.

"Report." Marshall Maynard Benedict Fordham asked.
"The fires at the Green Docks are pretty much contained and repairs should be able to start within the hour. Delivery of ores should resume in the next 2 or 3 days." the equerry started.
"How are the current stockpiles holding?" Maynard asked.
"It is being allocated to refineries as we speak but it might be necessary for a few independent Air Captains to travel to the Delve to ensure production and delivery to Elesium does not fall under acceptable levels." came the reply while the Marshall looked at the metrics and charts for production for the coming week.

"Have we excluded an accident?"
The equerry nodded. " Yes. Several investigations are ongoing but so far none have yield results nor has any of the known belligerent factions in the site claimed ownership of the act. Sabotage without a doubt however."
"No obvious connections to the Rising Star?"
"None, sir. Even though the modus operandi fits their anarchists views and goals."
"Keep me appraised of any developments as soon as you are informed. "
The equerry nodded.
"Continue." Maynard said and crossed his hands under his chin deep in thought.

"A large group of workers from The Silken Mill, owned by the Corbets have staged a strike and production was suspended. First Citizen Hazard attempted to intervene directly by taking charge of 30 militia soldiers and taking the Tank into the Steamworks."
Maynard had heard some reports about this already. Apparently conflict was only avoided when Westley Corbet interfered and promised to meet the strikers demands..."
Maynard looked up from the relevant folder.
"And what are these demands about?" he asked intrigued.
"They seems to be centered around pay rises and safety at work as far as we can gather. The First Citizen is meeting with Westley Corbert in a few hours."

Dangerous precedent to allow he thought. Maynard did not like Westley. A fool of a spoiled man that did not know the true lengths many in Higholm and Paramount Hill had to go to to ensure they lived the privileged lives they did.
The late David Corbet was one of his biggest supporters in the Council of Dusk. He could not see Westley with a seat in the Council. But that was probably something for Josiah to sort out. He would have to relay on his ties with the Spinks and Monteclaires more than even now.

"We have started recruitment for the militia and are combing The Twins for the most suitable candidates." The equerry declared. "The Spinks are likewise recruiting for skilled and unskilled labourers mainly from the Steamworks and the Sprawl."
Maynard was still not sure what he thought about bringing down a section of the city's massive walls that had protected them for generations.
One thing he was sure, once those walls came down he wanted to have as many men on the look out as possible.
The Darklands were still a place that held much dread over the citizens. As far as any caravan could travel or any airship, nothing else appeared to exist out there.
Many that had attempted to travel and explore those lands and were never seen again.
And those that somehow manage to return were forever touched by madness, raving and spitting about creatures of pure shadow and terrors unfathomable to men.

"What about our friend? Any news from him." Maynard asked bringing his voice down to a whisper.
"He has gathered the last ingredient. He will proceed as planned."
"Excellent work. Make sure you follow the progress of that plan personally."
The man nodded and saluted leaving the Maynard alone once again.

He felt a pain on the left side of his back. Every few weeks he needed to recycle fluids from his artificial lung and he had neglected doing so longer than he should have. He needed to visit her again soon. Maybe tonight.
He stood up and walked to the old clock tower face, looking out into the city. There was no doubt in his mind anymore. The city was slipping into chaos, the Council slowly loosing control over the masses. And only the Ministry of War could prevent anarchy from flooding the streets.