Silence again visited the gathering. Drinks were held mid-way, all but forgotten as the young but ever sharp-eyed Antoine La Bière made his way to the forefront of the assembly and voiced his, and presumably many other's, concerns. Valid concerns, of course - Nivaggioni had feared having to deal with petty jealousies and rivalries from an assembly as venerable and powerful as the one he was now facing. These questions, on the other hand, came as a relief. They showed that the Unione's cadres were not ready to swallow any power grab without proper backing, and that there was no time for pettiness. Not now, at least. Valid questions, to be sure, but difficult ones. He decided to buy himself some time and nodded to his attending staff. Large boards, laden with costly imported products from all around Gallia were brought to the tables. And of course, most of it was following classical or modernised Corsican cuisine : cheese soft and strong complemented with donkey and pork charcuterie, and some peppers for added colour. It was a rustic, hearty offering, steeped in Gallic and Corsican culture, a reminder of where they came from. Perhaps lacking in sophistication somewhat, but with a message that Nivaggioni held onto firmly.

The effect was the one he had sought for : Oohs and Aahs of contentment erupted from a fair amount of the dignitaries, as the smells of home made their way through the assembly. A proper diversion while Nivaggioni formulated his thoughts... Under the steely gaze of Antoine La Bière, flute in hand, never one to be distracted from the matters at hand.. There was not point in delaying further.

"Thank you, monsieur La Bière" he said, warmly addressing his once-wingman. The man had acquired no small amount of fame during his daring raids against the Maltese Menace in the Taus. His voice was sure to carry a significant weight, as would any of his questions. It'd be a foolish thing to underestimate him on the grounds of his youthful appearance, and Nivaggioni had often suspected the man was much older than he let on. A sizeable opponent in a debate, then – but he detected no animosity in Antoine's gaze. He liked to think there existed mutual respect between them and he endeavoured to honour this much.

"Indeed, you raise concerns that would be of utmost importance to the honoured and wise businessmen and women gathered here today. I realise the Unione could not have reached its current position without a strong emphasis on choosing its fights and knowing when to keep a low profile. Tell me, then : what has the Unione accomplished in recent years ? What fortune have we amassed ? What fame have we secured for ourselves, for our children ? What guarantees of a better future have we conquered ?"

His tone had gone up. Not quite lashing out, for Nivaggioni seldom did so, but not the gentle, honeyed delivery he was known for, either. As he spoke, his gaze was not confined to La Bière, but embraced the gathering as a whole... Sometimes stopping on those older members he knew for a fact were more than content to sit on their laurels, living off the wealth they had amassed thanks to one big score or other decades ago. The kind of score Nivaggioni had been after, in vain, for a while... Not that he'd ever admit to this.

"I cannot allow the Unione to live this comfortable, easy and ultimately short-lived existence that we seem to have fallen into in recent years, content to watch the Royals bicker with the Republicans, and now with the Sirians, as we keep the Nox flowing and every side as happy as possible. This is not sustainable. What will we do the instant the King turns his regal gaze upon our status quo, and decides that he's had it with our schemes ? Or, should the Sirians defeat him and make it as far as our very home... Do you think they'll let us keep this life we carved for ourselves so long ago ? No ! No, absolutely not. We must prepare for any eventuality, because I tell you ! One day, this conflict will end, and its victors will soon turn their attentions homeward. Our existence is balanced on the sole factor that no side knows how connected we are to the other : a secret, some might say a lie. And those tend to unravel at some point. We might not be there to see it, but our descendants might."

He paused. The atmosphere had grown heavier, the winds had died down. Even the birds seemed affected. For a moment, all was silent. The air was filled with the scents of the maquis : myrtle, thyme and lavander.

The Nivaggioni gardeners' recreation of the Corsican maquis. Decades of work passed from generation to generation to ensure it took hold on this alien soil. It is a matter of great pride to the clan.

"Now, perhaps you can see why I wish to push forward, monsieur La Bière". Nivaggioni's tone had lowered, but the words weren't back to the usual softness just yet. "As I explained in my preamble, this is a unique moment in history. We are at a crossroads. Gallia will soon rule, or she will be defeated. We can keep our destiny tied to hers, and suffer whatever consequences befall us when the reckoning comes. Or we can strike out and carve our own path in the stars, establish ourselves as the central player we were always meant to become. You speak of risk and reward ; I speak of making investments on our futures. The bigger risk, as I see it, is to just let the situation unravel itself. I will not be the spectator of the Unione's eventual isolation and collapse. Not with our history, not with the incredible resources of our people."

He paused long enough to take a sip on his drink, before resuming. "As for your proof... This is the Nivaggioni family villa. As you no doubt have noticed, it was modelled as closely as possible to the old Corsican homes of Earth, complete with our own little maquis". He gestured towards the scented greenery that surrounded them. This is where I was born. You'll find records of it, and the rest of my youth, here."
He nodded to an impeccably dressed young woman not far from him, who brought him an attaché-case. From that, he produced a file, which he personally handed to La Bière, having walked up to him.
"This is the story of the Nivaggioni family. I've sent it in digital form to all of you. You'll find everything there : our humble beginnings as botanists, cooks, cheesemakers... The small political achievements secured by members of the family... And then, my son Baptiste, my first born, who decided he would use the Nivaggioni name for something else than fine gastronomy or mere politics. Using our network of contacts, he attempted to get in the Brigands' bed and tap into their... Dirtier activities."
The Brigands, although good friends to the Unione, tended to push their smuggling activities in much darker places than any Corsican would dare to. There were persistent rumours of people being sold on Brigand bases only to come out as fresh, very expensive organs. Nivaggioni let the Sénateurs, whom he expected were plenty aware of those rumours, figure the rest by themselves before continuing.

"Naturally, foolish and unexperienced as he was, he was caught by the brave boys in blue. Luckily, they had done such a fine job that he was arrested before he had a chance to go too far, and the courts weren't too harsh on him. He was sent to prison, his mother and I were questioned, and things were left at that. But the damage was done, and the Nivaggioni name was tarnished for a long time. Though I will always feel guilty about these events, his recklessness opened my eyes to my, and my family's possibilities. Why settle for an ordinary life, with nothing else to look forward to than the next month's meager pay, where there were so many opportunities around me, at a hair's length ? At the cost of my... Of quite a few marriages, I set out to build the foundations of what I imagined would be the key to fortune and fame for the Nivaggioni clan. I had to do so in secret... Know when to retreat, I think it is you said, monsieur La Bière ? As José Nivalgo, I was admitted into the Unione Corse. From there, I worked my way up, however I could. And now, here we are, all of us. The foundations are complete, I trust in them, I've even achieved a degree of wealth and you've recognised me as one of your own, for which I will forever be grateful. But I want more. The clan deserves more. And to secure that, I must ensure that the Unione itself gets more, too. Otherwise, as I've explained earlier, I see no future for our organisation. And that means no future for my clan, either. Picture me as in a co-dependent relationship, if you will".

With that, he grinned as he took hold of his drink again, only to notice it was already empty. Fatigue had set in, the momentary flash of anxiety had drained him somewhat. It was time to replenish.

"Now, honoured friends..." The puzzle was back, as was the measured, smooth tones.
"Let us enjoy the delicacies I had prepared for us by honest Corsican grandmothers ! I'll happily answer more of your questions on a full stomach. Let us drink to our continued fortunes, may they ever grant us the greatest pleasure in this life : a proper meal".

Aware of the unspoken rules in such situations, he went ahead and picked the first toast. Donkey dry sausage on rye bread. Delicious.

Dressed in his standard formal attire styled in Royalist fashion for appearances, he had arrived amidst the last group of Senateurs entering the villa, deciding not to stand out significantly amongst the early birds eager to share the typical banter, gossip and cuisine presented, offering a greeting here and there to friends and acquaintances alike. A few hints of conversation suggested the reason for this event had yet to be announced, and he carefully skirted discussing business matters too early, intent on enjoying the occasion with an air of calm.
Eventually taking post near a window seat to admire the view, discussion around him began to cease as the host, at one end of the room, called for everyone's' attention.

José Nivalgo's speech raised some interesting points, several of which he shared the same views on. More surprising than anything however was how Nivalgo maintained his flow, going so far as to suggest a course of action. While the idea of staking a commercial claim on Bretonia caused a nearly imperceptible shake of his head, as Nivalgo continued he found himself reassessing his opinion of the man. Nivalgo had even taken steps to pave the groundwork for communication with potential allies in advance of the meeting, with promising results.

For a brief moment, he frowned at the mention of Ricard's presumed retirement; While that matter had been shrouded from most, he had carefully neglected to offer any insight or opinion on that issue. A brief scan over the crowd showed no other present had any inkling of Ricard's disappearance - save one glance in his direction? Perhaps he had imagined it, though the individual in question had generally kept a cold shoulder between them.

Returning his attention to Nivalgo as the speech began to wind down, the revelation of both Nivalgo - rather, André Nivaggioni's true identity, and his aspiration for the Parrain's seat caught him completely by surprise. The sudden silence was replaced by the beginnings of whispered shock before Tribun La'Biere stepped forth to put a voice to the concerns of many present. André responded well, both in buying a moment's thought and in responding. He could see that André had considered well not only the Unione's future, but also the potential future of the Kingdom at large, and what effects it may have.
As for the information offered regarding the Nivaggioni family, some if it was already known to him. The Baptiste arrest he had heard about second-hand from his friend the Commandant, who had been in the vicinity long before attaining said rank.

André's expression assumed it's usual form, and as the toast was made, Tribun Treiz d'Keur leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his wine and began to ponder the implications. Parrain Nivaggioni would be a mouthful to say aloud, but aside from that and how sudden this turn of events had transpired, he was troubled to find no immediate downsides to the idea. Ricard and his predecessor, Marquise, would slip farther from the thoughts of those present, the Unione as a whole would solidify it's direction once more, and a visible leader would take the reigns. It was certainly an appealing concept, one many of the senateurs were beginning to approve of at a glance. Tribun La'Biere's questioning appeared to have worked in André's favor, and thus far no-one else had raised any concern.

After another sip of wine and a tasting from one of the meat platters, Treiz steepled his hands in thought. Perhaps while others discussed the potential of a new Parrain, he could gauge the thoughts of another Tribun, despite the presumed glance earlier.
"Madame Durand, might I ask your humble opinion on events thus far? I fear I have yet to reach a conclusive decision, despite the convincing arguments presented." He glanced once more in André Nivaggioni's direction, as others around him continued to dine and discuss amongst each other. "And, to be quite honest, the revelation of Nival... ahem, of André's patronym, has surprised even me."

Looking back towards Chloe as she responded, Treiz gradually lowered his hands before taking up his glass again.
"It is up to the Senat as a whole to vote on this. While, as Tribuns, we each have a certain amount of stopping power, we could let this play out. I am personally quite curious to know if he is eager and bold enough to demand we vote now, or if he will wait until the next regular full session for us to decide. After all, we shall have to vote not just for one Tribun to replace Poitoux, but a second for his spot as well. Her retirement, I fear, may be more untimely than Lucas Ricard's ..."

Treiz considered her response, as he glanced back towards André. Embarrassingly, Poitoux had slipped his mind, but Chloe was right; A replacement Tribun would need to be nominated and voted for in addition to André if his bid for the Parrain seat were to succeed. Two more Tribuns rising from the Senateur seats would open up two more Senateur seats in turn, but those were somewhat easier to fill from participating families.


"... we are surrounded by many unknowns; people, motives, and movements alike. How do you fit in?"
Chloe's tone and question left him puzzled, as he pondered a response for a second and misreading the intention behind her words.


"I would seek Advancement and Stability for the Unione, as the two go hand-in-hand, but I have no reason to seek a position as Parrain myself. At a guess, he simply hoped to make his intentions known prior to the next official meeting, particularly if he plans to succeed. It would be foolish to expect an immediate vote in his own home; Some may see such a move as dictatorial, and the seat would forever be out of his reach in that case." He paused to enjoy another sip from his wine glass, taking a moment to gaze in André's direction.
"I suppose the seat needs to be filled, at least. If he cannot convince me by the end of today's events I will have to ponder this further in my own time. After all," he continued, raising his glass to his lips again with a sigh. "I imagine ours may be the more favorable votes he would seek to win over."

Draining the remainder of his glass, he motioned one of the attendants for a refill, gazing out of the window as conversation around him continued. He would have to pace himself on the wine after this next glass though before his next flight aboard the Livreur. The only thing to ponder next, would be who André decided to approach individually if he planned to do any more convincing or gauge opinions on his own.