The man who answered to the name Balthasar was not found near the South Well at sunset. He was found shivering near the Castellan's Office door at dawn, looking suspiciously clean for a beggar, and possessing a haunted stillness in his eyes that spoke of something far worse than hunger.
Deacon, seated at his desk, observed the man brought in by Elara. He was young, slight of build, and moved with a careful economy of motion—the result of trying to be unnoticed in places where noticed men die. He was wearing tattered, stained peasant clothes, and his hair was matted and long.
"He said Lord Cassian summoned him," Elara explained, skepticism thick in her voice. "He claims he knows the city's back alleys like a blind man knows his own home."
"Leave us, Elara," Deacon commanded. When the door closed, Deacon leaned forward, dropping the aristocratic affectation.
"I don't know your name, soldier. I don't know your rank. You are here because Major Kiley—Dr. Kelly—identified you as a resource. The code word is 'Dust Bunny.'"
The man flinched, but only slightly. His eyes, fixed on Deacon, cleared instantly, the blankness replaced by the sharp, calculating focus of a man who knew he was receiving a high-stakes order.
"Dust Bunny," the man repeated, his voice surprisingly soft and clear. "Staff Sergeant Michael 'Mickey' Tate, S-2 Scout/Intelligence. My Lord. Thank God you're here. My cover is a mute beggar who lost his tongue and mind to fever. I've been mapping the town's sewer system for escape routes."
Deacon felt a powerful surge of adrenaline. S-2 was exactly what they needed. A scout who could map and move in shadows.
"At ease, Sergeant Tate. You are Balthasar now. Your function is S-2/S-6 (Intelligence and Communications). You are the runner and the decoder. You link the Castellan to the Lily Pad, and the Lily Pad to the field."
Deacon slid the parchment Major Kiley had marked—the Blackwood map—across the desk. "This came from Major Kiley. He used a supply list to send a code: D.U.S.T. B.A. I need you to break the Major's code and follow up on his request."
Tate/Balthasar didn't touch the map. He just stared at the three-letter code on the Major's supply list: D.U.S.T. B.A.
"Sir, Major Kiley is a field commander. He wouldn't ask for a Dust Specialist. He's asking for personnel," Tate analyzed instantly. "He's using common military acronyms, disguised."
Tate's finger traced the D.U.S.T. "Data Utilization Support Technician," he whispered. "He's asking for an S-6 comms expert. Someone who can build and maintain the secure network. We had three attached S-6s at the FOB. One was Specialist Kaelen, Communications. The other was Staff Sergeant Perry, Cyber/EW. The third was civilian."
He then tapped the B.A. "B.A.—Battlefield Analyst, perhaps? Or… it's more likely a direct name code. BerArd, or BlAke. He's asking for his top S-6 to come online."
"Blake," Deacon decided instantly. Staff Sergeant Andrew Blake was a brilliant, eccentric S-6 tech who could build a radio from tinfoil and prayer. "The code is Staff Sergeant Andrew Blake. Find him. Now, how do we talk to him?"
Establishing the Comms Network
Deacon explained the covert system: his own orders were simple verbal instructions disguised as Castellan business. The Major used written medical codes. Renna/Rodriguez used a logistics runner.
"It's a broken hub-and-spoke network, Sir," Tate summarized, a technician's analysis in a beggar's body. "Too many single points of failure. We need written communication, secure and decentralized."
Deacon produced the stack of fine paper the Major had requested. "The Major intends to use this. How do we turn this into a secure network?"
Tate looked at the paper, then the oil lamp. "Invisible ink, My Lord. Made from milk or onion juice. But that's slow. Better: Vigenère Cipher."
Deacon nodded, impressed. The Vigenère cipher was a simple, polyalphabetic substitution cipher—it couldn't be broken without the key. "And the key?"
"A local prayer, a nursery rhyme, or better, the Sergeant's Creed from the handbook," Tate suggested. "We will use a key that only a handful of the most dedicated NCOs would have memorized word-for-word."
Deacon pointed to the Major's map. "Use the back of this map. Write the instructions for the Vigenère Cipher, and the key: The Sergeant's Creed. Distribute one copy of the instructions and the key only to Major Kiley, Specialist Ruiz, Corporal Miller, and Staff Sergeant Rodriguez. You are the only one who handles the movement of these documents."
Tate's eyes widened with the gravity of the mission. "I'm the whole S-6, Sir. If I'm caught, the network is gone."
"Then don't get caught, Sergeant. Your mission is to establish the network, then go find Blake."
The Hunt for Blake
Deacon gave Tate two public directives to maintain his cover:
Town Crier's Runner: He was to be the liaison between the Castellan and the Town Crier, making him the official receiver of all public information and rumors. (This directly tied him to Ruiz's "black cat" code.)
Militia's Errand Boy: He was to report to Renna/Rodriguez immediately as the runner Balthasar.
Tate bowed deeply, his eyes burning with purpose. "I will move the data immediately, My Lord. Then I will hunt for Blake."
"Where would a genius S-6 tech be, Sergeant?" Deacon asked.
"Blake was a man of modern comfort, Sir. If he was Isekai'd into a weak body, he would seek a place with consistent light, heat, and privacy to process the data loss. He would be near a reliable source of power and fuel—a large library, a wealthy church, or maybe the town's only glassmaker's workshop."
Deacon felt a chill. The only glassmaker's shop was a secluded, grimy building near the river, known for its bizarre, glowing furnaces.
"Go. Use the night. If you find Staff Sergeant Blake, tell him his new identity is Master Alchemist Elian—the town's only glassmaker. Tell him to get his furnaces ready. We need to start melting metal soon."
The Final Piece of the Puzzle
Tate slipped out the door, dissolving into the shadows instantly, already assuming his mute beggar cover. Deacon watched him go, then turned his attention to the final remaining unknown of the immediate crisis: Balthasar, the Beggar.
Deacon hadn't told Tate the truth: Balthasar was not a random cover name. It was the name of the Isekai'd civilian in whose body Tate now resided. The original Balthasar had been a local beggar, known for his ability to move unseen.
Deacon had just activated Staff Sergeant Tate, giving him a mission that required deep cover, and reinforced that cover by giving him the perfect, pre-existing civilian persona.
The entire Shadow Command was now active:
[Lord Cassian/SFC Hayes (Logistics)C2/Executive [Active]]
[Dr. Kelly/Major Kiley (CO)S-5/Medical [Active]]
[Brandt (Cart Driver)/ Spc. Ruiz (Logistics)S-4/Acquisition [Active]]
[Miller (Mason's Helper)/Cpl. Miller (Engineer)S-7/Engineering [Active]]
[Renna (Hunter/Guard)/ SSgt. Rodriguez (Infantry)S-3/Tactics [Active]]
[Balthasar (Beggar) SSgt. Tate (Scout)S-2/S-6/Comms [Active]]
Deacon took a deep, steadying breath. He had stabilized his unit, established the communications, and set his engineer and tactician to work. All that remained was the final, critical deployment: the S-6/Alchemist who would turn base materials into military-grade assets.
He walked to the window, the sun now fully up. The rhythmic, ordered pounding of Cpl. Miller's construction crew was now mixed with the sharp, disciplined shouts of Staff Sergeant Rodriguez training the militia.
The Castellan of Oakhaven was ready for war.