The loss of Staff Sergeant Tate (Balthasar) to the Widow Elms was a critical blow to the Shadow Command. Deacon had sacrificed his S-2/S-6 asset to maintain the supply line, leaving his command structure without a secure runner or a dedicated intelligence analyst. The pressure now shifted entirely to Staff Sergeant Blake (S-6/Alchemist), who had to evolve beyond a weapons technician.
Deacon met Blake at the newly acquired Alchemist Guild workshop. Blake was elated, meticulously working with the new supply of pure sulfur.
"The sulfur is magnificent, Sir," Blake reported, his hands moving quickly over a glass beaker. "It increases the stability by thirty percent. We can now produce Thunder Claps that are safe to store and handle. Project Grog is moving toward mass production."
"Project Grog is secondary, Sergeant," Deacon stated grimly. "Tate is compromised. He is now the Widow Elms' runner. Our secure comms network is down. You are now S-6 Operations and Comms Chief. You are responsible for all data transmission and encryption."
Blake, primarily a tech specialist, looked paralyzed. "But Sir, I can't leave the lab! I'm the only one who can handle the powder! And I'm not a cryptographer—Tate was the expert!"
"You are an S-6 technician, Blake. You improvise. You have two missions. First, you will find a way to re-establish the comms network that doesn't require a runner who can be tracked."
Deacon pointed to the Widow's pocket watches, scattered across a workbench. "Second, you are going to leverage those watches. They are the key to building a new, secure comms system."
Blake picked up one of the watches, his technician's instincts taking over. "The springs are too fine, Sir. I can't replicate the material strength. But the gears—I can machine crude gears using Lykos's tools. I can make a reliable counting mechanism."
"We don't need a watch, Blake. We need synchronization," Deacon explained. "You are going to build Chronometers—simple, synchronized clocks for each member of the Shadow Command. No complex display, just a synchronized counting dial. This will allow Major Kiley to schedule high-risk meetings and troop movements with temporal precision, replacing the coded runners."
Blake grasped the principle immediately. "A synchronized clockwork grid. Precision timing, not precise display. I can do that using the raw material Lykos stocked. It's hard, but I can assign Miller's forge crew to assist with the crude milling."
Deacon gave him the go-ahead. "The clockwork is Priority One. Now, the new comms network. No runners. No dead drops. You need a system that can transmit short, critical messages without physical contact."
Blake thought, his eyes scanning the medieval lab. He landed on the large, ornate weather vane atop the Alchemist Guild tower—a massive, spinning metal object visible from much of the city.
"The Vane, Sir. I can motorize the vane using a simple water wheel and a counterweight. I can then use a series of coded stops—a basic semaphore system—visible only to Major Kiley's dispensary rooftop and your command tower. A short message—three letters, three numbers—transmitted via the vane's position." .
"A semaphore system," Deacon confirmed, impressed. "It's crude, but it's secure and high-priority. It will be our new S-6 comms link. You have twenty-four hours to prove the concept, Sergeant. The comms network is broken; you must fix it."
Deacon had now successfully pushed his S-6 asset beyond his technical comfort zone, forcing him to become the architect of Oakhaven's technological future—an industry built on the principles of contraband clockwork and high-level communications.
The challenge remained: Major Kiley. Deacon rode back to the dispensary to deliver the bleak news that their primary intelligence runner was now a compromised asset.
Kiley met the news with grim acceptance. "Tate is a good soldier, Hayes. He will act as a triple agent and feed us intelligence from the Widow, but we can't rely on him for operational safety. Blake's clockwork is essential. Now, my report on Corporal Thorne is finished."
Kiley handed Deacon a detailed ledger, filled with careful Latin transcriptions and their corresponding English translations.
"Thorne is not speaking gibberish, Hayes. He is speaking the memories of his host body. 'Young Timon' was recording the secret history of the Castellan family. He is confessing the truth of Lord Cassian's lineage."
Deacon felt a chill. The trauma of the unit had inadvertently unlocked the dark secrets of the very identity they had stolen.
Kiley summarized the findings: "Lord Cassian was not a noble, Hayes. He was a bastard son of the previous Lord, raised in secret. The entire foundation of your rule—your name, your legitimacy, your claim to the Hold—is a massive lie, known only to the Church and a few officials. And now, Corporal Thorne has unlocked the confession."
The victory had just been revealed as a political time bomb. The Siege Worm conspiracy was real, but it wasn't Deacon's fault. It was the legacy of the body he had stolen. If this secret came out, Deacon would be a deposed fraud, and the entire Shadow Command would be exposed as a collection of foreign criminals.