ATTN: To All Corsair Forces

[Madvillain]

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Transmission origin: Corsair Luxury Yacht ''El Presidencial''
Transmission Location: Scrambled
Transmission ID: Elder Juanez ''El Presidente'' Buonocore
Transmission Target: Elder Eurico Rivera
Encryption: Heavy

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High Elder Eurico Rivera, So this is the first time I hear your voice. Tell me, hermano, is the seat comfortable? I believe I’ve heard of your familia before. Aren’t your roots in Manzanares? Or was it Malagón? One of those shantytowns on the periphery, no? It hardly matters. We should celebrate, after all. For you are walking proof that in our Imperio, even those born with dirt under their nails and little success to their name can climb high enough to place a crown on their own head. Become a ''high'' Elder. Make all the hard decisions. Claro, it’s made easier when the rest of the Elders sit idle, picking their noses, twiddling their thumbs, and too wrapped in their own ambitions to remember that it is the Council of Elders that holds the empire together. You know who I am. Some in your position might see me as a threat. But listen closely muchaco, I do not hunger for power. I’ve worn those shoes you now walk in. Half my life spent fighting to wear them, and when the time came, I took them off myself. I walked barefoot for a time. It opened my eyes to things beyond the borders of our Imperio. And now I return: older, wiser, más fuerte. But what do I find? I find men like you gutting the Imperio to line the pockets of their compañeros, coffers filled to the brim with Bretonian gold turned into coffins filled with Corsair sons and daughters, slaughtered in that godforsaken Rheinland. Skyelius made that mistake. Sephardi too. I put an end to it once. Yet , in my absence, I see the same beast of ambition raised its ugly head once more. Claro, this disgusts me. But still, I am here. Not for you. Not for the Council. For the Corsair people. They deserve more than mere reaction, they deserve leaders who shape the future with their own hands. I gave them that once even though now I return to find my life’s work in ruins. Enough of the cháchara. You need help. That much is obvious. And there is no man in this Imperio better suited to oversee this retreat than me. I will not waste breath on the options you speak of. I’ve led retreats that have been sold as victories, campaigns that left scars on our enemies long after we withdrew. Ask anyone who was there for the last days of Gran Canaria: they will remember Battlegroup Magreb. I led them. I bled with them. And I delivered them home. Not in coffins, but with pockets filled to the brim with Bretonian gold. I will assist the Penitence’s escape. My yacht will slip through the Hessian net, and and once aboard the Penitence, I will stand beside her Capitan in the tactical room, overseeing fleet movements and putting my years of experience to work, so he can focus on commanding the ship. I may even bring a few Brotherhood pilots who remain loyal to me. As for the choice? Let the people decide. I am both their shepherd and their humble servant. But make no mistake, Rivera. When this is over, you will owe me. And when I return, I will reclaim my seat at the Council. Por las buenas… o por las malas. I’d rather not damage those beautiful Council doors again. I trust you’ll have a chair ready next time we meet. -Elder Juanez Gonzalez Perez Aguilar Garcia De la Santa Maria Buonocore

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Baila Morena | Toilet Trouble | Elder Presidente[TBH] | The Titan Combat Manual | Confession