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Sierra, Coronado

It wasn't the best station. It was better than Barrier Gate, but only slightly. The corridors were larger having not been dug through solid ice-rock, but it still had that odd feel to it only an independent station out in space can. There was no singular aspect that gave that feeling. The looks others give you, the questionable transactions happening off side-tunnels. The overly recycled air. Least it wasn't flooded with Cardamine.

It didn't matter much to Mary. She was used to unclean sections of stations by now. Beyond that, she had her childhood on a smog ball.

She almost fully changed before getting off of the Lochrath then deciding against it. A quick shower to keep her curly off-blonde hair down and hopefully get the self-odor to an acceptable level. She opted to keep her general flight outfit on; a faded maroon jumpsuit with general purpose black crew boots. It was the accepted crew uniform of the Lochrath, even though there was no regulations or requirements. It was just the easiest to wear in space. However while trying to make sure she came off as not trying, she did put on light concealer and threw on a nice dark-grey coat. She figured it might be cold on the trip. Thinking on this, she fought with herself of why not dressing up mattered so much. Why did she want to at least look somewhat presentable?

Before she could answer herself, she got nudged. Mary looked around and saw the glowing Piper, the ship's broadcaster. Piper was dressed in her annoyingly loud attire. Charcoal dress slacks, an overly tight white shirt, and maroon fronted waistcoat. Crowning her straight shoulder-length brown hair was a black newsboy cap she insisted on wearing. Mary argued with Piper about wearing such formal wear all the time, but apparently Piper insisted she needed to "dress for the job". After getting the same response twice, Mary gave up.

The two of them were lingering in the main hangar deck's overlook, watching vessels enter and leave, drop off cargo, and deck crews scurrying about. Piper was excited about the trip while Mary was hesitant. The trip was very quickly decided upon and Jasper Grey, the damned representative, green-lit the trip instantly seeing as he was on the ship at the time. Mary didn't care overly much about it, but if it got better funding for her crew, it was worth it.

Regardless of her feelings Mary kept her hand close to her belt, a compact snubgun holstered openly and watched the ships docking and undocking. Waiting to see the vessels she was waiting for she kept while eye on the overlook as well, she couldn't do anything but wait for the given time. At least Piper kept people from looking at her with her excited persona.

At least Mary decided against bringing a sign, even if it was a good joke. She didn't actually know what the person looked like, or how it would happen. So they waited, watching. Mary didn't like waiting, the tension. The unbearable feeling of no control over how the situation would play out. The lack of information, the unknown elements. The people doing their business and hopefully it not involving them.

Her hand gripped the snubgun's handle loosely.

Taking his time before joining the guests, Morreti had not only washed away all the fatigue of frequent fighting and patrols, but also changed into a fresh and newly issued flight suit. Styled in the same manner as his ship, it was a flashy piece almost suited for promotional purposes as much as it was for practical ones. Well fitted and with an equal blend of white and red, the suit also proudly displayed his crest on the collar and with LFR stars on either shoulder.

Slicking his hair back before he left his accommodations on the station, he certainly looked nothing like the part he played in Liberty's underworld. But it was probably his atypical appearances and consistency in delivering results that made him both memorable and popular among his peers, and perhaps even among enemies.

Since conversations with the Lochrath's communications officer hadn't included video feeds so far, excluding his, he had no idea who to look for. But he figured that foregoing his helmet would give the people that were likely already expecting him enough to identify him with. In the end however, this proved unnecessary, because a stray glance to see a remarkably stiff woman waiting with her hand on the grip of a gun seemed intuitive enough of an indicator.

With some time to burn, he approached the evidently tightly strung individual and spoke up. "Mary?"

Her name being said smacked her like a drunk's slugging fist. Somehow she had managed to space out in her vigilance. Wrapped up in her nerves she never saw the man coming. A quick turn to face the one who called.

It was a well known face to her. She wasn't wrong during her previous conversations with the man nor her crew that giving off an iconic image and good marketing behind it can surely rally others behind a cause, no matter the morality of it. The silhouette of "Cobra", the ideal strong willed pilot fighting the fight of freedom for Liberty was met in person. He looked different. Cheekbones higher than she imagined, hair a shade off than her memory. Most of all was the clear exhaustion only gained from the life of an active fighter pilot. He looked like a work-weary fatherly figure she knew from Leeds. Working twelve hours a day, most if not all days of the week. It was a reality that couldn't be hidden by holo-edits or digital touch ups.

Mary figured that she hasn't responded yet. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it was quickly becoming more awkward than intended. An excusive cough as she also noted she was staring during that time. "Ah am she. Didn't think you'd come t'fetch us yourself, Cobra." She finally responded in her thick industrial-world accent.

By chance more than anything, Piper was tapping away on a datapad and didn't notice the man approach or the exchange until Mary turned to the other. The reporter tucked the pad into the crook of her arm and turned to stand beside Mary, beaming at him.

Seeing Piper noticing, Mary was quick to speak up before her counterpart could. "This is Piper Taylor, our broadcaster f'the Autumn Broadcast ah told you about. You offered free press, an' seeing as this whole thing is for inspection an' report she'll be documentin'." Mary gave introduction and formalities to smooth over the initial start.

Mary's hand still lingered on the grip of her piece, though it seemed more an idle unconscious stance than anything.

Naturally he was also armed, a fairly bulky looking particle pistol was holstered to his hip. From what little could be seen from the angle, it was polished to a sheen and had numerous personal touches that had likely been added to it over the span of years. Since this impromptu introduction had turned out to be quite awkward and formal for some reason, he offered both his acquaintances a handshake and introduced himself without embellishment. "Morreti."

The silence which might have lingered after this was broken up by his PDA beeping, alerting him to the fact that their ride was pulling in to dock and that they'd be able to leave soon. "That's our ride, good to go?" He doubted they had forgotten anything they might need for a trip of this length, but there wasn't any harm in him asking either. If they confirmed this then the only thing left to do here was get on that inbound Kestrel and go.

As their ride came into view and locked down to land, revealing itself to be a ramshackle and practically oversized torpedo that could carry people. Appropriately dubbed the No Time For Decompression across the side of its hull. Clearly this wouldn't take long, either for them to defy the ship's namesake or get to their destination.

"Name basis, ah? 'Ow friendly like." Mary commented with a friendly smirk. As the beep came followed by the question, she nodded and gathered up the wide-eyed Piper to follow to their awaiting transport.

Seeing the Kestrel and it being the destination of Morreti, Mary frowned. She was used to travel in junk-like vessels, but they were always at least given a solid look through to make sure it was "safe" enough. This took dangerous flights to a whole new level. By this time, her hand had left the holster to walk behind their new companion. It wouldn't be of use if this was the danger she was facing.

Piper didn't seem to be able to contain herself anymore, and popped audibly with a gush of questions directed at the Libertonian man. "Do you often travel around in vessels like this? Isn't it dangerous for you to fly solo or come to a port like this alone? Aren't you afraid of the Navy coming after you?" she rambled out, readying her datapad for any form of answer she could get while they boarded.

Once inside, Mary muttered outloud to herself her own quesiton. "Are we going to survive this?"

The sudden rush of questions prompted only a sly smirk as an answer. He would wait until they were aboard and the pilot glanced back at the trio, exchanging a nod with Morreti out of what seemed like respect or some kind of hidden understanding. Leading by example, Morreti sat down and started strapping himself in, appearing unbothered by the ship's appearances. "I don't remember consenting to an interview. But since I'm sure you'll insist, I'll answer any questions you have."

Deciding to answer them in order and as simply as possible, he made sure to maintain eye contact with the woman who styled herself as a journalist. "One - yes, our ships don't rank among the best in terms of maintenance. Two - yes, but I think I like it that way. Three - no." Having said all of this he tilted his head and waited for more questions, when everyone was seated and secured in said seats the pilot went through the procedures of getting them out of here. Clearly he was quite prompt and took initiative, likely given instructions about what to do prior to getting here and having no need to ask questions.

The two sat down to strap in, Mary glancing over and tugging on a few of Piper's straps to make sure she was secured. Piper nodded along to Morreti's answers, tapping away the answers. She was about to ask more when Mary cleared her throat. Piper paused to look at the quartermaster who gave a rather pointed look. An apologetic look, then faced the man again. "Lets get more focused on the issue at hand. We know Atka has been having conflict of terraforming due to the war with Rheinland, however it has restarted. How active is Planetform's presence in the Hudson system? Does Liberty maintain a strong grip on the system as well due to their investment into the planet? How does Rheinland act towards it?"

As the reporter got on track, Mary's gaze slid to around the interior. It was going to be a long flight across Liberty and without able to put at least a deck between her and Piper's radiant presence was going to make it all the more insufferable. Perhaps she could sleep during the transit she mused, staring at nothing in particular on the interior wall across from her.

The smirk faded once the questions reached subjects that he took seriously, coincidentally the pilot had also gunned the engine at this point, so Morreti's change of demeanor was accompanied by low rumbling and the protests of this ship's frame to all that speed. "Atka's currently at stage one terraforming, by their standards this is mostly the preparation stage. A few teams scurrying around on the surface and a small station in orbit of the planet, seems to be the extent of it for now. But with the completion of Minor's operations, I expect they'll double down on Atka with us being a looming threat." It was a logical enough of a conclusion to arrive at, especially given Hudson's tumultuous history of campaigns to secure the Atka project.

With one question out of the way, Morreti promptly moved on to the next. "Liberty launches frequent patrols to protect commerce on its side of the border, but they draw the line at Atka and don't extend into the Kenai. Despite how dangerous the system is, the Navy hasn't made any sizable deployments in the system. Presumably, to avoid war with Rheinland over an already contentious topic." It might have been him being questioned, but he did a great deal of observations into the body language and mannerisms of the person asking the questions.

The rumbling of the ship ceased momentarily, it was on approach to a jump hole and would get pulled through into Cortez shortly. But there was still a question left that couldn't go without an answer. "I can't speak for Rheinland's limp politicians, but I think common sense dictates that a neighbor like Liberty trying to effectively annex a system on the border would be seen as a universally bad thing." The answer came just in time because the rumbling came back and with more force than before, the Kestrel having just entered the jump hole and being hurled about by this fold in space before being spat out in Cortez. Perhaps most surprisingly, the ship remained in one piece and seemed to fare the journey well, despite the apparent state it was in.

Piper was the iconic image of a old-era reporter. When she first started asking questions regarding Hudson she even tried to cross her leg. She quickly figured out the passenger seats and straps weren't designed for such ability so sat with knees together instead. There was an air of innocence about this woman, a smile and nod to answers. It was as if she could have been speaking to anyone, from the leader of a criminal organization or a president of a house. This was either the sign of a good reporter, or a clueless one. Her cheerful attitude never wavered except to close her eyes and grit her teeth as they crossed through the hole.

Piper tapped along as her surprise interview went on. She no longer looked down at the datapad, but instead at the man entirely. "How active is your people in the system? What value does Hudson bring to the X-" she hastily corrected herself. "Liberty Free Republic?"

Mary's eyes had closed after the jump, letting the long ride happen.

He shook his head before answering this time. "No need to correct yourself, there's no offense in calling us by our group label as Xenos. It might have been a name given to us, but we own our identity well enough." Somehow the polite assertiveness of his tone made the suggestion of lightening up and being more casual feel like it wasn't optional.

"But to answer your actual question. It isn't about what Hudson brings us, it's about what it represents. A blank canvas, a place to start over, free of Liberty's decadence and the subversive influences of other Houses." The words came slowly this time and with more emphasis, like there was faith behind this idea that the mission statement was quite simple. "A place for people that want to be left alone."

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Lochrath

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