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" What do you mean ? " Robert inquired completely perplexed.

" Would you be so kind as to elaborate, s'il vous plait, cheri ? "
She sighs, before continuing.
"Just simply how Gallia appears to be the.. "bad guy" always. When sure, it might be. But I don't see the people always being bad.

A small pause.

Though that can be interpreted in different ways.. of course. The media doesn't necessarily label the pilots as bad, but maybe the king..? Ehh.. I wonder am I even making sense anymore.." She chuckles a bit and lowers her head for some time, trailing into deep thoughts.
Marie turned and looked at Achilles with her piercing blue eyes.
"
Ah, bonjour, Monsieur Nadeau."After a small smile, she carries on:
"
I'm here both for pleasure and business, part of the business being related to the Commonwealth. As for your last question... Sorry to disappoint you, but I am from the Île-De-France system; Versailles Residence."
She then takes another sip from her glass.
"
But I have visited Marne a few times. If you are so homesick, why not go back to Marne for a small holiday? Unless you have problems entering Gallia. In that case, OSI can take you along on one of our convoys, maybe."
The Doctor gets a very peculiar look on his face, as he raises one gloved hand with a data pad in it, and throws it down against the floor, likely with some not insignificant structural damage.

He raises his hands up, as thought he was to begin a tirade against those in the room with him. His fists shake a little, he pauses, then turns to the door in silence.

He throws his hands in the air, and walks/stomps out of the area at a firm pace.
"Ah, a merciful thing that, I find there is nothing quite so detestable as a Marnite. I mean, what sort of moniker is that for a populace, eh? It's phonetics run reminiscent of that torrid Bretonian spread that they insist upon defecating en masse over their misshapen excuses for respectable toast…" Achille babbled conversationally, elated to have an audience. This was clearly going to be a long one.

"…But to be from Versailles, ooh, sweet Satan…" The Burgundian whistled as steam-valve might, "…you have me bowled. To find parentage in the royal retreat makes for quite the pedigree, cheri, perhaps (dare I infer it) a title?" The Burgundian grinned, flagging a decanter from the waiter passing without halting halting his tirade. "…I can imagine the rent in such a lodging is considerable, and I'm not sure even Lucifer's legal detachment could render the insurance palletable - after all, Maquis-based-suicide-ramming attracts quite the interest. Perhaps that's the true root for the invasion, eh? Our Royal Highness needs a lodging change?" *He snorts, deftly pouring out two tumblers of rose-tinted De France as though it was an act of instinct, sliding one towards Omicroner without pause delay.*

"It wouldn't shock me". Achille continued, answering his own query with alcohol-infused assertion. "No, no it would not".

For the first time since he first sat down, Nadeau took a ginger, platonic glance at his new-found drinking partner, followed swiftly by a prolonged one. To Achille; she appeared highly bourgeoisie, teetering dangerously upon the wafer precipice that divided merchant from aristo, genetically pretty in that pre-sculpted, botticellian manner that males of financial merit (and limited imagination) invariably carved into their progeny. But that wasn't what enticed the Burgundian. No, what drew Achille to this damsel was the opportunity to exercise florid Gallic within the Freeport proper. And Dieu damn it if it wasn't enjoyable.

"…In all sincerity now, the likelihood of me venturing to Marne for anything other than a few thousand tonnes of cryocubes, Nyodynium and the other necessities of commerce is slight. Mind you, OSI is not the only organisation with a degree of export freedom within the land of our mutual births…"

"But do try a little wine ami - It's De France, you know".
He mouthed, prodding the tumbler ever nearer.


"…It seems you have me at a certain disadvantage in possessing my name already, cheri, so I must confess that I have little to offer you in exchange for yours, if you will enlighten me so?"

"…Oh, and it's Achille. Just Achille - slaves and nomads alike address me as such, seemingly. Save 'mister' for the under-revered."
Marie looked back at the transparent ceiling and gazed at the stars.
"
The name I have in Sirius is Marie Nemesis. I have another one in Gallia, which is indeed linked to a title, as you so subtly guessed, but which I chose to drop while in Sirius, as it may attract unwanted attention."
She then takes another sip from her glass.
"
Hmm. De France wine, you say? Not bad. Which year is it?" She looks at the bottle that Achille hands her. "780 AS? Impressive. I had no idea they still existed. I though the stock had been bought out by the King's office."
Robert raised one of his eyebrows while he listened.

" People, my dear, Ellie, are the same regardless of the location you look at. They embody the same selfish, prideful, ambitious nature with the only exception of being flavoured and coated in different ways. "

He then arranged his own hat, and as if exhilaration consumed him, he exuded his words out in a proud, satisfied tone.

" But ultimately, all these men and women fulfill no other purpose but to manifest as tool awaiting to be manipulated by the Commonwealth according to our amoral, primordial and ambitious convenience. They are all the same, tools for our trade. "

And with that last word, Robert twitched his head for a mere second, only to realize the sudden change in the dome's clientele. Gazing upon certain figures which he recognized, he turned back to Ellie only to say:

" Excuses-moi for a moment, s'il vous plait "
As she walks into the Sylvania Dome, Anne realizes how beautiful the part of the station really is. From the rumors she heard about it, it didn't seem all that great: just some regular dome that every other station had. This was different, though. When she breathed in the air it felt like she was back on a planet.

Ah, alright then. I need to get to that bar.

She walked up to some people sitting on a bench and asked where the bar was. They simply pointed at a building. She quickly walked towards the bar, sat down, and ordered a water, sipping at it slowly.
"Go ahead.. not like I'm stopping you, am I? I wouldn't want to be rude now."

She starts staring upwards outside of the dome. Lost in deep thoughts.
Jack watches Robert and Ellie talk for a few moments, before shaking his head and getting up to move away. Looking around the room, he spots a women enter the bar, who promptly goes down to a bar. Eying the newcomer who he doesn't recognize, he smoothly walks over, slipping into a seat at the bar without asking to be invited next to her.

"Why helllooo there, who would you be now? Haven't seen you around before, a newcomer of sorts?" Pausing. "Last newcomer had an attitude, perhaps I should rethink my method of approach, although at this point, I honestly don't care. So, what brings you to this little corner of the dome, which most people seem to shy away from because of the rambunctious group of people who occupy it usually?"


Taking a sip of wine that he was holding throughout his stay at the bar, having carried it from the other side where he came from.