"Nobody can give you freedom. Nobody can give you equality or justice or anything. If you're a man, you take it."
Malcolm X
The Taimou's engines were roaring as the fighter flew through Minnesota. Zettsu was sitting in the cockpit, letting the autopilot do its job as he pondered about what happened in the recent days and what's gonna happen next. He was meant to meet the Navy admiral - or vice admiral, commodore, officer, whatever, he didn't really care about titles too much - Lambert on the battleship Minneapolis. In itself - nothing major. But the fact that he was carrying one of the most dangerous substances known to man, flying a ship whose databanks contained information that could at the very least be considered "classified" made him nervous.
Not only that, but he was also unnerved with another "routine police scan". Another "this is a special, classified delivery". Another "it's not your goddamn business". And another button press, that activated his cloaking device. He was annoyed but also understood the position of those policemen. They had to do their job and God bless them if they did it properly for once. After all, everyone's sense of justice is subjective, distorted by their past experiences and changed by their future expectations.
He sighed. Taimou was getting closer to the battleship. He double-checked if he had everything. The package, datapad and his equipment were all intact. He didn't expect to get attacked on a Liberty Navy battleship, but still it was better to expect the unexpected. He sent the docking request to Minneapolis and sat back as the autopilot did its thing.
Vice Admiral James Lambert Liberty Navy First Fleet
James Lambert sat at a booth, partially concealed in shadow along a wall in the Minneapolis's officer's club. As always these days, he was wearing his service blues - resplendent with all the trappings of his rank and chest full of colorful ribbons.
It had been a long day of meetings at Cheyenne - the massive headquarters of the Liberty Navy in the heart of the Virginia system. Ever since his promotion to Vice Admiral, that had become his life. He'd been to every type of meeting imaginable: general staff meetings, government briefings, ceremonies, christenings, planning sessions... the list went on and on. Lambert desperately wanted a real drink this evening, but he'd had to settle for a glass full of some sort of energy cocktail that the bartender insisted was all the rage on Los Angeles these days. It wasn't too bad - but a splash of vodka would've made it far better. He glanced up, wistfully looking at the bar and the several off-duty junior officers who were in the process of indulging their freedom by getting drunk - rather loudly drunk, in fact.
His companion cleared her throat, clearly having noticed the direction of his gaze. "Don't even think about it, sir."
Lambert sheepishly looked back across the table at her, relaxing his posture slightly into a slouch. In almost every other situation, a Lieutenant could never get away with chastising a Vice Admiral - but the rules had never strictly applied to Lambert's relationship with Tanya Carmen. High cheekbones, cold blue eyes - if you took away the difference in their uniforms, Tanya looked much more the admiral than he did at this particular moment.
"A man can look, can't he?" Lambert asked.
"You weren't just looking, your eyes were practically making sweet love to those bottles on the shelf."
"Psh. That's not true," he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.
Tanya made a disapproving noise, then glanced down at the small datapad on her lap. "Doesn't matter, your seven o'clock appears to have arrived. Just received a note that he docked a few minutes ago. Should be able to find his way up here, I'd hope..."
Lambert nodded, taking a sip of the blue energy cocktail. "Maybe you'd best go meet him at the door. No civvie gets in here unless they're accompanying a senior officer - one of the few hard and fast rules they stick to out here on the frosty frontier."
Tanya nodded, and stood to leave. However, after stepping away from the booth, she abruptly turned and looked back at him. "I may be gone a moment. Behave."
Lambert cracked a grin, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
"... Sir," she reluctantly added.
He made a shooing gesture, and she walked off towards the door. He resumed his wistful gazing towards the bar.
Just this last little meeting, then I can enjoy myself a bit. Hope this guy isn't a chatty one.
As Taimou settled on the landing pad of Minneapolis docking bay C2, Zettsu stood up from the pilot's seat and left the cockpit. He expected at least a few people lay surprised and nosy glances at the Rapier. It was in his possession for a good few months now, yet it was still something he didn't get used to. It was annoying, but he understood. A ship that belongs to one of the enemies of Liberty yet is flown by - as he perceived himself - one of her greatest friends is certainly something you don't see every day.
He took his black half-cloak of the hook and smiled. That black piece of clothing was with him for so many years he almost felt naked without it. He looked around the ship again - there were so many things here that he was attached to. Things that defined his personality. That had made him who he was. The ship itself, even though not old enough for the paint of the Maltese insignia to fade had already started to feel like home. He hasn't felt like it ever since leaving Seraph's mansion on the outskirts of Varience on Manhattan. I should visit her again, soon.
He shook off the pondery. It wasn't a good time for it, he was on a Navy battleship after all and he needed his focus. When in a hostage situation, try to bring positive memories, he recalled a piece of advice given to him a while ago. The snap of his cloak clicked satisfyingly. He checked again if everything was in order and made sure the package was securely hidden underneath the cloak.
The door of the ship opened. Zettsu didn't look forward to the meeting, but he had to attend it. As he glanced out and saw a woman, clearly waiting for him.
"A welcoming committee?" he asked in a friendly manner.
Tanya had gone to the officer's club entrance, but not seeing anyone out of place, she had decided to head to the hanger bays. The public bays - where freelancers, bounty hunters, and other authorized personnel were permitted to dock and rearm their ships - were only a few decks down.
She stepped out of the lift, blue eyes active and searching. Before they had even arrived aboard Minneapolis, she had pulled up the ESRD's dossier on this... Zettsu. Freelancer with a long history of bounties taken for the government of Liberty. Yet he was known to pilot a Rapier, the newest creation of the Outcasts. Tanya did not like that, one bit, and had advised Lambert to cancel this appointment. There was no reason to spend time meeting with a potentially dangerous person in the flesh, when a vid call would suffice. At least he had finally agreed to let her sit in as well.
Unconsciously, her hand drifted down to her sidearm, holstered at her hip. She didn't expect to need it, here at the heart of one of Liberty's most advanced warships, but she would be ready. Lambert didn't seem to realize that his elevated rank now made him a target for all sorts of scum and lowlifes.
The hanger bays opened up before her as she walked through a gaping blast door. A cacophony of noise bombarded her - rough shouts, the overlapping drones of engines cycling up and down, and the grind of robotic repair equipment. She quickly identified the Rapier, a blocky and vaguely menacing shape. A man stood next to it, wearing some sort of strange cloak that she thought was called a... poncho? Some sort of Hispanic thing.
Tanya walked up to him, looking the man right in the eyes - which were mismatched, one red, one blue. He didn't strike her as particularly dangerous, at least on the surface. Just a bit... odd.
"You're Zettsu, right?" She didn't wait for a response. "The Admiral is waiting for you upstairs. Come with me."
With that, Tanya spun on her heels and started walking back towards the lifts.
He followed the woman and waited a few seconds for a follow-up, at least some words of greeting from the officer. "Good day to you, too," he said after there was none.
He felt slightly uneasy, looking into her cold blue eyes. Hm. Complete unlike her-- Stop. Don't even think about her. Just don't. There will be time later. Checking again if the package is secured under his cloak, he followed Tanya into the lift. While on the outside maintaining his composure, inside he was nervous. After all, he was just a freelancer, what could he offer to the Liberty Navy?
As they waited for the metal box to reach the upper levels, he evaluated his options. Sure, he hunted criminals. He gave intel to the LSF, as unknowingly some of them thought that "if he's flying an Outcast ship, he must be with us!". He looted rare contraband from a bad guy's ship. And finally, he had the Taimou. Rapiers were one of the most dangerous ships in Sirius and he believed that if Navy could incorporate some of the Maltese design philosophy into their own ships, everyone would benefit. Maybe he wasn't so out of luck.
Vice Admiral James Lambert Liberty Navy First Fleet
Lambert had finally given up on gazing at the bottles in Tanya's absence, knowing that wistfully staring off into the distance was a poor first impression for an admiral to make. So he'd drained the last of his energy cocktail and proceeded to busy himself with his datapad - taking a apprehensive peek at the virtual mountain of neural net messages in his inbox. It was enough of a daily struggle to keep his head above water, addressing the issues that required his personal attention and delegating or ignoring everything else.
In fact, he mused, the only reason he was holding this particular meeting was because Davies had personally requested that he handle it. Ordinarily a random freelancer wouldn't merit face time with an admiral of the Liberty Navy, but the fleet admiral had been adamant that this be handled.
Lambert frowned slightly, lifting his gaze to the door. This whole thing was extremely unusual, which made him slightly uneasy. Sure, he was safe here, especially with Tanya in tow, but he hated that Davies seemed to think something this freelancer had to offer was important.
Tanya re-entered the officer's club with a brief nod to the marine sentry at the door. She walked ahead with confidence, forcing the freelancer to follow in her wake and keep up with her brisk stride.
She has a special way of making people feel welcome, doesn't she?
Lambert quickly sized up the freelancer, this... Zettsu. He didn't cut an imposing figure - black hair hanging halfway into his face, a slight slump to his posture, and weird, mismatched eyes. Tanya stepped up to the booth, then took a step to the side - allowing the man to approach.
The admiral put on a friendly smile and stood, extending his hand. "Zettsu, right? I'm Vice Admiral Lambert. Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat."
Lambert gestured for the man to sit at the booth opposite him. Tanya had conjured a chair from somewhere, and was positioning it at the end of the booth to sit as well. As the man settled himself, Lambert decided to skip the niceties and get straight to business.