Pria walked down the corridors of the Chateau d'Or, Pria couldn't help, but giggle. Before it became the BAF regional headquarters, it served a very (or somewhat, depending who you've asked) different purpose, and truth to be told, Pria frequented it, not only for business.
As she walked down the corridors, the thickening of useless bureocrats signaled Pria that she was coming closer to the seat of power. Pria personally never liked the occupation, although she understood the reasons behind it. Hell, even convinced the city she lived in, to stay. But the fact that they turned this temple of hedonism into a bureocratic fortress left a bitter taste in her mouth. Something the people of the ancient West felt, when civilisation finally caught on to the frontiers, she imagined.
Arriving at the right office, she stopped for a moment, looking at her attire. Trousers, a black tee with some album cover on it, and a rustic leather jacket, that had a naturally dark-red color, thanks to the animal it was made from. She quietly opened the door, slipped in, and closed it. The woman at the desk was busy with some paperwork, and didn't noticed her entry. Pria quietly sat down, before grinning, and finally opening up.
This used to be a whorehouse, y'know.
Bleeding Zoners. There was always so much paperwork about them. This time a dog belonging to some Zoner man named John was killed by Bretonian hooligans for doing dog things on the Queen's land, which produced an entire succession of retaliatory murders, probably by John. It was all nice and dandy for John (save for losing his pet), who must have thought of himself as some kind of a superhero fighting for justice, but he obviously didn't spare even a single thought for the ones supposed to document the entire mess. And it was a mess, having in mind it took place in Las Palmas, a town that Bretonia is supposed to return to the OSI in less than two months. All of that over a dog's waste! Meeting an excuse to make a break from the whole thing was a relief for Elizabeth, especially an excuse she could talk freely to -- something she could not afford doing with most people.
"Aye. Oi worked haeyre", she rejoiced to an opportunity to speak her native Leodensian, like if undressing a tight corset. "Oi maeyn", she realized that statement might be confusing as she was currently working there at the very moment, "Oi maeyn before."
Pria knew that, while she was fairly sure she never hired Elizabeth's services, she remembered her. Or someone looked like her, anyway. She looked at Hall, seeing her relief, and the fact she finally let herself loose around her, meant a lot of trust towards Pria, one she appreciated. This place was sure more fun back then. Maybe we can drink for those simplier times Smiled.
Pria looked a bit tired, but happier than any time Elizabeth could recall. She looked at the piles of paperwork. Oh the grinding gears of bureocracy. Is it those zoners down in Palmas, or the new colonies?
"Both, both, both!", her irritated barrage of lamentations fired in succession like a Zoner diplomatic artillery battery. "All o' 'em! Oi've haed enuff o' all o' 'em! Oi'd tear all theyse poipers apart anay minute! Tis loike watchen' over a kendergarten heyre, except that the keds keype killen' eyche other! She reaches out to grab a cup of tea and calm her nerves, but there is none, so her hand just awkwardly fidgets back to her lap."Moinde callen' them service tae ge' oos sum tae, eh?"
Well, I can help ye with the colony, by cutting costs significantly. Gotta note, my supply lines aren't exactly BAF approved. She reached into her pocket As for the tea, I've got something better, provided ya fancy the taste. She pulled out a flat porcelain flask. The black china had some fine decorations painted on, along with the two words with gold colored letters: Clase Azul
"Nay!", Elizabeth shook her forefinger and her eyes appeared as if they were offended by the generous offer, "Oi dun' taeke alco'ol!" It had the potential to sound unusual when said with that accent. She rose from the chair and exclaimed with a wholly different voice: "Tea please! I am the governor and I will have tea!"
"Oi've always haeted alco'olic mums", she returned to Y'berg. "So 'ow's the baeby?"
She's a screamer Pria said with a tired joy in her voice Otherwise, she's strong and healthy. My adopted daughter is with her right now. She paused for a moment, looking out thru the window. It's... challenging, y'know. But totally worth it.
She grinned like a child, as the door opened, and they've put the tea on the table between them. Look at that, the fancy china! Pria said after the man bringing in the tea left. What's next, they make me a lady as well? Joked
Elizabeth looked at her seriously, but said nothing. She was silently stirring her tea and only spoke when the service had left.
"In me world, aneyun cou' become a lo' o' a laedy,", she almost whispered. "Merit, no' birth or connection. You kno' tha'. So how did you sae you can help mae creae' a new world here?"
Pria's eyes glistered with a mischevious smile as she leaned closer, and quietly spoke. Well, Bretonia, like any damned bureocracy, works slow. Reaaaally slow. In fact so slow, that often BAF has some equipment, the requisitions go thru so many levels, that by the time it goes to the right person, the piece is either requisitioned by someone else, the papers are lost, or it became obsolete. Hell, we've got Depots full of that crap.
She put a couple cubes of sugar into her tea, and started stirring it. Hall didn't put any rum on the table, so it had to do. So, here's my idea. We use all that stuff left unused, thanks to this frozen ocean of bureocratic ineptitude that is our government. All we need are access codes, some paper with items listed on it, doesn't matter what. Then we get thru the store, grabbin' whatever we need, and transport it here.
Pria stopped speaking, as she counted in her head, assuming what was there, and what wasn't, although she doubted many people knew and used this information. We could cut costs by 60 to 80 percent. Winked, and leaned back. It's already paid for, and the stuff was nothing more than overglorified dust collector for decades.
She took a calculated risk into letting Hall gain this knowledge, but in her opinion, if she figured out what could she achieve, she deserved it. Pria also thought of the possiblilty Elizabeth screws up, and gives out the secret, or hell even gets caught, but her countermeasures were in place for such an event.
Interrupting someone who speaks passionately was not part of Elizabeth's demeanor. She was not interested in the very subject that Pria was addressing, but she considered it polite to let her speak and perhaps, possibly, even hear something useful. She listened to Pria with a smile while sipping tea, but then gently shook her head while placing the cup back on the plate. Her Leodensian accent came as a contrast after this instance of aristocratic manners, especially when applied to her learned vocabulary.
"Le' mae 'ypothesize all o' tha's perfe'ly legal and by the regulations. Still: nay!", she retorted to Pria with a smile, "We have more equipmen' than sheps we can put i' on". We're bein' well supplied in tha' regard thanks to the defea' o' the Swords inta Plowdhaeres motion. Sheps will cum soon too, wi' the Ark Royal. Wha' we neyde are brecks. Brecks, mortar, steyle. Food too. Stuff ci'ies are buil' from. We've go' factories 'ere, bu' they weren' desoigned tae supply such a large population so suddenley. Understand?"