Her steps echoed eerily through the barren hallways of Durban Station's C-Level. It wasn't that there weren't any people on it, but rather that the station, just like the Core or life itself, was partitioned into certain sections that each individual was allocated to. Section A and B were exclusively for the Exalted Guildmaster himself, tailored to satisfy all his needs, whereas the section C was intended to be sort of a confluence for the Exalted Guildmaster and those who were closest to him in terms of power, yet still couldn't reach him — they never could.
This was where Cordelia Lyell was headed.
Her own quarters alongside her work space were located in Section D. One would assume that the Guildkeepers would have some sort of uniformity in terms of where they'd set up camp, but apparently that wasn't the case, much to Lyell's chagrin. It would all be so much easier if they'd be close together, so one wouldn't have to use the bloody neural net to contact another Guildkeeper in case something came up, as was the case with Marston now, who spent most his time on either Alabama or Invicta.
She wasn't quite sure how to deal with him. On one hand, he seemed to be terribly receptive to all sorts of influences, given how easily he had been persuaded by the heat of the moment into attacking a Freeport. On the other hand, he wasn't just a Guildkeeper, but the Co-CEO of APM as well. Assuming that he hadn't had the most terrific fit of luck imaginable when obtaining these positions, he probably was a force to be reckoned with.
Good.
Either way, he might prove to be a valuable asset. Reaching her destination by rounding another corner, a set of files and a PDA held with one arm, she unlocked the rather plain-looking door by providing a voice sample plus finger print. When first she had entered this room, she had been rather surprised with how mundane it looked compared to other wonders of the Core, like the H+ Clinic or some of the labs on Invicta.
Lyell entered something that could be described as a dimly lit plenary hall, except there was no lectern of any sort in front but rather a large, round glass table with a holo-projector embedded in its middle, one chair with its back to the wall, usually taken by the Exalted Guildmaster himself, that would give a full view of the assorted crowd of approximately one hundred people that theoretically could be seated in the back. The problem simply was that nobody else besides the Guildmaster and the Guildkeepers had permission to enter this area. Lyell had never quite understood why those seats were there.
Opposite of the Guildmaster's seat, across the table and arranged in a semi circle, there were four more seats, each one allocated to one particular Guildkeeper, who would sit with their backs to the door, facing the Guildmaster. Taking her own seat, she placed the files in front of her and connected the PDA to the holo-projector in the middle, as she would need it to further drive her point home.
She had come too early, but that was alright — That was why she had brought her files. Depending on how Marston conducted himself, he might just not even occupy her full attention. Opening a file titled Vae Victis, she would sit and read, throwing occasional glances at the Guildmaster's seat, until Marston would arrive.
Taking the service elevator directly from the hanger to C-Level, Marston muttered to himself quietly. Few ever seemed to understand his perplexing rambles; they were ether about his work or something that had manged to annoy him. This time it was about his unexpected meeting with his colleague.
As the elevator made its way up slowly, screeching after ever floor it passed, Marston checked his briefcase, making sure it had everything it should. He steadily picked out every object, from classified files to his side arm, just to be sure that he was prepared for anything; this is after all, his first meeting with the good lady.
The elevator came to a grinding halt as the destination level was reached. Marston waited for the doors as they slowly scraped open, making way for him. Marston began strolling along the corridor, his steps loud and commanding, towards the meeting hall. Upon facing the security door, he walked up to it only for it to open before him and find Lyell staring back at him, waiting.
"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" Lyell asked calmly. Raising her arm to exaggeratedly look at the time on her watch, she continued: "Fourteen minutes. I congratulate."
Turning around, she started down the room again, signalling for Marston to follow. "In case you're wondering: I saw you approach on the security video feed." Upon reaching the glass table, she motioned for him to take a seat, while absentmindedly collecting the files she had practically fanned out before her, as she always did when working on something that required her to look at multiple things. "I do hope you have quite the good explanation on why you kept me waiting, Marston. In case you haven't yet noticed, I am actually calling you here because I want to keep you, and by extension the Core, out of the public's condescending gaze. Are you aware what I mean?"
Putting the files back in their respective folders, she gave Marston a questioning look.
Marston gave a long deep sigh before turning to Lyell with his gaze "Your transmission gave me enough of an idea. Though why you don't let something that has been laid to rest remain in peace is beyond me." He said with an almost irritant tone. Marston's gaze had turned to the folders before back to Lyell "Seeing as you are a new addition to our little organisation I am going to assume you are good at what you do. This is why I am going to assume that you have found something worth my very valuable time."
She nodded. "I am sure you will find this more than just enlightening. Things might have calmed down," she continued, withdrawing a sheet of paper from a folder. Looking at it, she saw that it contained a small rundown of the current diplomatic relations with the Zoners of Omicron Delta; she passed it over to Marston, "but not due to any one of you. It was I who stepped in and tried to clean this absolute mess that the Guildmaster, you and Jess have left behind."
Turning to her PDA, she typed a few commands. Shortly afterwards, the holo-projector in the middle of the glass table flickered to life, showing a frozen image, seemingly a guncam image of Omicron Delta. The Freeport was visible in the background, surrounded by the Battlegroup Greece that had been amassed to assail the Freeport. "I would very much like you to take a look at some pieces of evidence with me that the Zoners and their allies have collected — do indulge me on that, " she added, as she thought that Marston would likely object to this. "This is merely the prelude to a much more sophisticated argument that I am going to make once the background has been established." Any word that Marston would have spoken was cut off when Lyell pressed another button to start the recording.
Over the entire duration of the recording, Lyell made sure that Marston would watch it attentively, while she herself took occastional notes on a sheet of paper whenever the recorded voice of Marston spoke. Once that was finished, she pushed said paper over to Marston. "You're lucky, really. Your face and name are plastered all over APM, yet you are not quite a public figure, as the Co-CEO, which is your luck; people only want to see the Exalted Guildmaster." Standing up, she leaned against the table, arms crossed, looking over to Marston. "Do you think the Administrator would be content with simply demanding Fillian if he knew you had been present, a Guildkeeper?" She raised a finger before Marston could gainsay. "Nu-uh, don't come with the line that the Guildmaster was there as well. We both know he is unreachable — you, however, are not!"
Waiting a moment for her words to sink in, she continued: "They're angry, hurt, and confused. They want heads to roll, and I am all too happy to help them in that regard. After all, why should I care what some degenerates do in their free time that could get them killed." Breathing in and out exaggeratedly, she sighed. "Would be a bloody shame if they were to find out about your involvement, wouldn't it?" She leaned her head slightly to Marston, giving him a meaningful glance.
Taking the paper that contained the rundown of events, he spent several moments looking over it. It was interesting to see that the Administrator was so adamant about certain aspects of his story. Marston's eyebrows almost vanished beneath his brow as he saw a copy of the first set of demands that the Confederacy had made prior to the Chief Arcani declaring open hostilities to them. "So, they want her dead?" he asked, tapping the table with the paper's side. "Wouldn't have thought they'd go for something that drastic, though. Then again," he trailed off, further studying the paper.
His reverie was broken when Lyell continued to speak, to which he simply replied: "Ms. Lyell, I am here now. Do go ahead and show me what you intend to so we can be done with it." It was highly unlikely that Lyell would present anything that would truly worry him. Then again, he hadn't expected the Confederacy to demand the head of the responsible person, and he was technically high in rank than the Luminary...
The recording he watched in uneasy silence. He tried to interrupt it several times, but Lyell cut him off harshly each time, only adding to his apprehension. The atmosphere, the tone, her bahaviour — all of it put him on edge, made it difficult for him to concretely articulate what it was that worried him in his head. The recording ended, leaving Marston with a longing for its morbid imagery to come back, because now Lyell would speak again. He listened to her words, her tone of voice calculating and even, making all that he would have had to gainsay evaporate. Standing leaned against the table, her arms crossed, she appeared to be taller than him, even though she actually was a quite diminutive woman. "Uhm, yes, the, uh, Guildmaster is unreachable; you're right," he found himself agreeing with her, not knowing what else to say.
He didn't want to get killed. The gravitas of what he had done that day in Omicron Delta finally sunk in and he felt cold fear run down his spine as he realized just what Lyell was insinuating with her last remark. "Y- you want to rat me out?" he asked, his voice surprisingly firm — he was nothing if not a good actor. "Are you out of your mind, Lyell? What do you think you're going to achieve with this? All you'd do would be damage the Core's image even further!" A trace of anger found its way into his voice. Here she was, this new Guildkeeper, and acted as though the entire Core belonged to her!
Lyell sighed inwardly, beginning to massage the bridge of her nose. Marston's demeanor was tiring her greatly. How was it possible that a single human being could have so much fluff in his head? She had completely overestimated him, it seemed. The fact that he was that easy to anger made his inaptitude all the more apparent. "Dear Mr. Marston: I haven't insinuated anything," she began, outwardly not showing how disappointed she was with him. "All I said was that it would really be a bloody shame."
She made sure to slightly stress the last two words, only slightly, so she could plausibly explain it with a cold. "Imagine the fallout. APM would take an even bigger hit than it already sustained. What was that I heard — you had to sell the majority of your shares to Interspace, Marston?" She could help but hawk a laugh at this. Poor Marston. Whereas he could've literally build a Mako out of solid gold with the money he had, it wouldn't even suffice for a Bullhead now. "I mean, I'd not want to be responsible for getting you fired, Marston. Who would feed your family, right? It has always been survival of the fittest. Wouldn't take long for someone else to supersede you as Co-CEO of APM."
Being pretty sure that she had given Marston's little head enough to think about, she stared a bit off into the distance, beginning to count the chairs in the room behind them. The situation was perfect. If Marston wouldn't obey her, he'd undoubtedly be fired if Lyell were to make his involvement in the Delta events public. Sure, she'd damage APM even further, but that was hardly her concern. Were this to be the case, she would have little problem asserting herself as Co-CEO of APM in his stead. However, she was quite sure that Marston was a supremely selfish man at heart, and as such, he would rather throw the entirety of the Core under the bus than risk getting killed.
Ideally, Lyell didn't want the position of Co-CEO herself. It would be unwise to concentrate too much power in herself. Marston would be way more useful in the position he was in right now and taking directions from her. If he was being stubborn, however, she would need to take it from him.
Regardless of the outcome, she would win something. The beauty of it was indescribable.
Marston's face contorted as he heard Lyell speak so casually about his family. Through clenched teeth, he spoke: "You're a cruel, cruel woman, Lyell." He didn't know what else to say. He was trapped. Even if he had managed to smuggle in a recording device to collect evidence of Lyell's betrayal, it wouldn't amount to much. Lyell's words had been carefully picked, just enough to insinuate what was going to happen if he wouldn't play along with her games, yet not enough to actually get her for it.
With a strained voice, he asked: "What do you want, Lyell? My position? My money? Do you want me to build you a ship? I am but one man, and I am thereby limited." He watched her carefully, her vacant look as her eyes darted around the room doing God knows what. Tiredness made itself known in his limbs. He just wanted to get out of here.
Turning around slowly, somewhat disappointed that she hadn't been able to finish counting the chairs before Marston had yielded, she picked up a single binder from her files and withdrew two sheets of paper, which she slid over to Marston. "Two signatures in the appropriate columns, Marston. The first one will sign over any and all shares you still own of APM to me. You will remain Co-CEO of APM, but not own any of it." She unplugged her PDA from the holo-projector and it flickered off, plunging the room back in relative gloom. Only the table was still illuminated by a lamp under the ceiling. "The second signature will assign to me the power of attorney to act in your stead in any matter pertaining to the Core."
She didn't rightly care about APM, yet she realized that it could be a valuable asset. With the recent boost provided by Interspace, it was only a matter of time until the APM shares would start picking up worth on the stock market again and provide Lyell with unnecessary but oh so satisfying wealth. What really interested her was Marston's power as a Guildkeeper. Once he'd signed the paper, Lyell would have effectively doubled her influence.
"It is sad, really. With that attitude, you will never be more than just one man, Marston." She shook her head, bringing up the same doctuments that she had given Marston on her PDA for reference. "The Core has always been about transcending that which is human and attaining a higher existance. Some are simply not meant to become God," she pronounced, giving Marston a look from the corner of her eye. "Regardless of what people think of Jessebelle, she is still the closest one in the Core to this end, and I admire her for that." She placed the PDA next to the two documents. "Once you signed, I want you to confirm what you just did via spoken word, so there won't be any misunderstandings. You'll place your index finger on it so it'll take a genetic imprint of you in order to confirm that only you could have made this statement."
Looking at the documents being put in front of him, he hardly listened to what Lyell was saying anymore. His eyes were fixated on the two lines on which he was supposed to write his name. His mouth was dry. He'd lose all his wealth and would be dependent on this awful woman to not evict him from his position. The work he had put into APM, the time he had invested into attaining his position — all of it became void before his eyes, leaving only a cold emptiness. Now he understood what it was that he had felt earlier: It was the feeling of his hopes and dreams being sucked out of him by this bloodsucker.
Sighing, he withdrew a pen from his jacket and signed the first document and with each letter, he felt like he was giving billions of his wealth away. He pushed it away from himself as if he had just undertaken a grand journey around Nauru. The second one felt worse since it made him feel like he was giving away his free will, making a pact with this wretch before him.
Whereas there had only been a somewhat uneasy feeling in his stomach earlier, he now felt decidedly sick. He saw Lyell point wordlessly at the device he was supposed to speak into and the simply command seemed to have a certain pull to it. Taking the device in hand, he placed his index finger on it. "This is Guildkeeper and Co-CEO of APM Jack Marston speaking. I have sold my shares of AP-Manufacturing to Guildkeeper Cordelia Lyell and given her the power of attorney to act and use my authority inside the Core as she deems fit. I shall be killed by fire if I break this contract."
Releasing his finger, he collapsed into his seat, all masks and bravado gone, revealing the tired, old man that he was. He threw the PDA back on the table and stood up. "I hope you're happy," he spat at Lyell before making his way through the room as if walking away from a fight that he had just lost. Upon reaching the door, he opened it and left, slamming it shut behind himself.
![[Image: Vsqs8Sx.png]](http://i.imgur.com/Vsqs8Sx.png)
![[Image: maYSx8o.png]](https://i.imgur.com/maYSx8o.png)
![[+]](/forums/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
The Holo Recording