Carlos had a new map on the desk, broader, showing the coast with annotations on maritime routes. Specter stood before him, but the commander's posture had already adapted to the new urgency hanging in the air.
"We need to revise the strategy for Ouro Branco, Specter," Carlos began without preamble. "The time calculation has changed. Our only secure source of income and strategic materials is trade with the Holy City of Santa Maria. The Popess won't be able to keep supporting us, and without trade and money, we are lost. We have to win this war before that happens."
Specter absorbed the information, his face a granite mask, but his eyes sparked.
"How much time do we have left?"
"Two months, at most. Maybe less. We don't know the efficiency of the Church's logistics, but we can't bet on their slowness. We must capture White Sand's city quickly. A decisive blow that gives us control of the region before the embargo strangles us."
Specter sighed before saying:
"With all due respect, Carlos, but I don't think we can conquer White Sand before the embargo begins, even with these more powerful weapons... Perhaps we should prepare for plan B."
Carlos nodded slowly, acknowledging the crucial point Specter had raised, but a doubt filled his heart. He had thought of this plan himself but had come to feel a certain appreciation for the Popess.
"Yes. Santa Maria and Popess Paula are a separate dilemma. She gave us shelter, a curtain of ecclesiastical pragmatism behind which we could grow. Attacking her would be more than a military mistake; it would be a betrayal that would stain our cause in the eyes of any potential ally and legitimize all the Church's propaganda against us as 'heretic barbarians.' Santa Maria must stay out of our offensive plans, for now."
He walked to the window, looking at the faint lights of the growing settlement.
"I was thinking, there's another way to stop the Church's embargo. They must think we're just incapable heretics... But what if we prove we have real power, that we don't lose to any white kingdom?"
Specter put a hand to his chin.
"And how would we do that?"
Carlos pointed to Ouro Branco on the map.
"We were already planning to attack this city, which is on the way to White Sand. Maybe we can't capture White Sand in time, but we can still capture this city, and not just that..."
"Our game with Santa Maria is one of intimidation and mutual dependence. We need White Sand to fall so quickly and overwhelmingly that it makes Popess Paula reconsider enforcing Alba's eventual embargo. If we are the ascendant force, controlling the rich interior and showing brutal efficiency, it might be more advantageous for her to 'lose' the embargo order at sea or find technicalities to maintain discreet trade. She is a politician. She respects power. Let's show power. Not just to her, but to the entire Church."
Specter, standing before the larger map of the captaincy, agreed.
"So Ouro Branco is not the end. It's the key. The key to isolating the capital and to impressing Santa Maria." His finger traced a line from the interior (where Ouro Branco was) to the coast, where a larger, more elaborate symbol marked White Sand, the capital of the captaincy. "White Sand is the true prize. The center of colonial power, the main port, the governor's seat, the place from which decrees depart and to which taxes flow. As long as it remains in hands loyal to the Crown, our Republic will be seen as an interior revolt, not as an alternative government."
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Carlos turned from the window, his face illuminated by the oil lamp, serious.
"Exactly. Ouro Branco is the first strategic step. It gives us three vital things for the campaign against White Sand:
- An advanced logistical base: The city's grain warehouses, cattle pens, workshops.
- Control over the interior routes: Whoever controls Ouro Branco controls the roads that supply the capital by land. We can slowly strangle White Sand, making it dependent only on the sea.
- An example: The quick and humiliating fall of an important city sends a clear message to the other towns and to White Sand itself. It divides the loyal, terrifies the undecided. Currently, no one in this world knows the power we possess. It's time to show that power to the world."
He approached the map beside Specter, pointing to the chain of obstacles.
"The path from Ouro Branco to White Sand is not clear. AfterOuro Branco, we will face Castelo Garcia, a feudal lord with ambitions and a stone lair. He will be our test against serious fortifications. And between Garcia and the capital, there are at least one or two fortified towns loyal to the governor, which would serve as support points for the capital's defense."
Specter studied the map, the military mind already tracing the future.
"The sequence, then, is: Ouro Branco (lightning operation) -> Castelo Garcia (siege and heavy artillery test) -> Towns along the Way (mapping) -> Siege/Assault on White Sand. Each stage consumes time and resources that the embargo can cut off."
"And that's why speed at Ouro Branco is even more crucial," emphasized Carlos. "We cannot afford a prolonged siege in any of these stages, but especially in the first one. We need the loot and the base of Ouro Branco to fund and feed the next campaign. Every week we gain before the total embargo is another week of ammunition production, another week to train more soldiers with the rifles."
He looked directly at Specter, the gravity of the moment shared between them.
"The revised tactic for Ouro Branco is, therefore, the only viable one. The trap, the annihilation in open field, the surrender by shock. We must break the backbone of the region's resistance in a single battle. That will give us the momentum, the resources, and, I hope, the necessary hesitation in Santa Maria to proceed."
Specter took a deep breath, assuming the weight of the campaign unfolding.
"Understood. The immediate objective is clear: Annihilate Albuquerque's field force in a decisive battle, take Ouro Branco as intact as possible, and consolidate control in no more than two weeks. That will establish the pace and reputation for everything that comes after. And what about Garcia? He will certainly prepare when he sees White Sand fall."
"Garcia is a different problem. To be honest, no merchant has much information on him, and you don't have spies watching him either. I only found out that he is very close to the most important and influential plantation owners in the region..." said Carlos, a plan already forming. "But I bet he is proud and sees himself as a noble, after all his family built a castle. Which will make him a perfect target to test our cannons that are just gathering dust at the moment."
The larger strategy was taking shape: a series of quick strikes with limited objectives, each feeding the next, always with the embargo clock looming over their heads. The capture of cities was not for empty territorial conquest, but for logistical and psychological control towards the heart of power.
"You have your orders, Commander," said Carlos, his voice firm. "Make Ouro Branco an example. Let the news of its fall travel faster than the wind ships of Alba. Let it reach the bishop's ears in Santa Maria like thunder, and the governor's in White Sand like an omen. Time is our enemy, but surprise and firepower are still our allies. Use them without mercy."
Specter raised his head, his determination renewed by the clear scope of the challenge.
"The hammer will fall fast and hard, Chief. And its echo will be heard in the capital." He gave a final salute and departed, not to prepare a siege, but to orchestrate a swift and brutal military execution, the first decisive move in the chess game for the soul of the captaincy.
Carlos was left alone with the map. The circle marking Ouro Branco seemed to pulse. In a few weeks, it would be green or red. And that color would determine whether they had a future, or whether they would die a technological starvation, surrounded by a world that would deny them even the last gram of copper. The bet was placed.