"Loire, do you copy? Come in." the voice in the comm device have been covered in moderate static. Rural areas, aside from astonishing views and relatively breathable air contained little to no relay towers, and the static while using the existing, distant megapolis relays inevitably affected the quality. De Belmond, without putting the binoculars aside and deviating from her choosen line of behavior - observing the distant village. The only major difference from a generic village idyll were trenches and other different fortifications made of improvised materials - the locals must've been expecting guests and was not going to give up on the place they have entrenched themselves in so easily. Distant voices and sounds of vehicle engines starting have been heard from the direction of the village.

Emilie exhaled, distracting herself from enjoying the pastoral view, and responded."Loire here. I am in position, acting in accordance to code yellow, full combat preparedness. Looks like the intel was correct, and the defending force is preparing the evacuation. No traces of the offending party yet. Wait a minute..."
Her ears have slightly twitched, catching another sound, that have differed from the ones coming from the village. The engine rumbling coming from the north-east was louder, and sounded different from whatever vehicle the defenders used to evacuate the local population. Apparently, all the actors have now arrived at the scene.
"... speak of the devil." As she spoke, four IFVs have rolled out to the dirt road in the northwest, and, with a minor delay, three bus have left the village in the opposite direction. Their final destination was unknown, nor Belmond had the time to actually track them down, nor this was necessary. She had her orders, those orders by sheer luck matched her own plans, and that meant the place was soon going to turn into an even worse bloodshed both of the sides expected it to be. First low-caliber shots have been fired from the offending side, met with an adequate response from the defenders. Higher caliber projectile have breached the roof of the house on the outskirs, it collapsed, possibly burying people under the wreckage. "The hammer hit the nail. Loire - commencing operation. Estimated time of repeated contact - 60 minutes +-20. Loire - over and out."


The pastoral landscape have quickly lost most of it's charm: over the last hour of intense combat, it have turned into how most of Leeds surface looks over the few years - a battlefield. The house' walls now had the story of it written on the them - the majority of bruises was from the energy weapon, traces of kinetic weapons were much rarer, and were likely used by the resistance forces. The ground was covered in blood and craters, bodies of contesting parties were scattered around, one of the Gallic IFVs - now, when taking a closer look, it was obvious that the Gauls have been on the attacking side while so-called Leeds resitatnce forces - were covering the evacuation.
Neither of them have predicted the involvement of the third party: some soldiers have had very specific marks - either at the temple or at their heart - a work of a sniper. A silhouette in black walked between the bodies, stopping at each of them and doing the same gesture - checking if there was a pulse, making sure he's not alive and proceeding to the next body.
At one of them, she stopped for a bit longer - eyes of the soldier in a battered, faded Bretonian Armed Forces uniform was still faintly breathing, his chest covered in blood, and the blood dripping from the corner of his lips. Despite his dying condition, he still had the strength to furiously glare at the approaching figure. There were no doubts he was still alive. "Oh, so you're still breating?" Emilie have asked the dying soldier that was still glaring at her with undisguised hatred. In his eyes she was his mortal enemy.
If only that hatred could've given him the strength to keep fighting. "I will kill you... with my own hands." His voice was faint, as if he wasn't going to last more than a few minutes of suffering before passing out to forefathers. "Look at him! Look at that oustanding bravery!" Belmond have raised her voice with a wide smile appearing on her face - for a brief moment, before she got serious again. "Your endeavours were touching, but... you have picked the wrong fight, so that's all they'll ever be."
A single shot rang out, echoing through the fragile silence of the battlefield. The silhouette in black resumed her evaluation - gladly, there was only a few more bodies of the combatants left. She enjoyed the process of murdering both sides, but going over to the place and making sure they're all really dead was, in her opinion, a needless waste of time. But she needed that place clean of any unwanted presence, so required her new purpose, and with this the fate of all the soldiers have been sealed with an Ageira-produced impulse sniper rifle De Belmond retrieved there, on Leeds, and since then carried along everywhere, speaking of it a respectful tone, implying that "it have even matched it's Gallic counterpart."
"Loire to HQ, the pad is cleared, confirming no survivors. As discussed, i will be staying there until my gift is delivered, and leave on my own through the conventional entry point used by the Resistance Forces. I will be back to point until the end of the week - to finally get the bird up and running. Loire - over and out."

The rurals have remained silent throughout the past couple days - resistance and royalists likely lost interest to the place; one, having the locals evacuated elsewhere, did not plan to put any efforts into reestablishing this outpost, and the Gauls seemed to have no interest in places where the resistance have not entrenched themselves. In that regard, their lack of interest have played in favor of Emilie-Sophie, that allowed her to make herself comfortable in that house on the outskirts with the partially collapsed roof. Prior to that - she took her time to dump all the bodies in one of the IFVs and started it's engines, leading in the direction of the moors - the dead will forever be buried in the shallow waters.

Various emergency broadcasts on specific frequencies have indicated certain concerning signs - Leeds is now surrounded by a ring of ships outfitted specifically for orbital bombardments. The Gauls were desperate, if anything, and prepared the ground for a massive withdrawal of assets - that's what one would assume should he be familiar with the recent news to even a smallest extent. All Royal Navy battlegroups concentrated in New London have moved to the planet and breached it's seemingly impenetrable defense; the final act of the play that lasted for almost a decade have now ensued in the high orbit of New London.
What happens to Leeds will not matter in the long run, Belmond will be long gone before one of the tyrant fleets is set ablaze and it's debris will burn in the atmosphere of the capital world of Bretonia.

Belmond have been spending few hours per day upstairs, observing the surroundings - her promised gift should be arriving any moment today, and her usually calm attitude changed to nervous. Nothing should've gone wrong, and De Belmond have supposedly been prepared for the odds... but she was used to always expect the worst.


She woke up to a roaring, rising sound of what seemed to be the rumbling of a shuttle CNOS engine. She could easily distinguish it from the military-grade engine. The dusk have steadily fell onto the rurals, and the descending shuttle was well seen against the darkening sky; Belmond have the house that served her as a shelter through the few past days, her jet black suit disguised her well enough for her to stay unnoticed, and only the blinking dim lights have revealed someone else's presence in the dark. Emilie unholstered her gun, and pressed herself against the shuttle at the cargo compartment door - this was the most common and convenient way to leave the ship.
The door have opened, a brighter light lit up the surrounding, and a single silhouette left the compartment. For a few moments, Emilie-Sophie have listened carefully - in hope that there is no one inside - except the pilot, but dealing with him should not be a trouble.

"Now stop in your toes. Put your hands up, slowly. You're on my sight." Emilie approached the silhouette, the barrel of her oldschool firearm pistol buried in his back. Her voice was quiet, she did not want to attract attention of anyone from the inside. The cargo compartment was empty, however, so all her nervousness was meaningless. "Turn around and walk. Keep your hands up. Stop in the cockpit." The engineer have silently obeyed all the commands, with her footsteps echoing inside the ship - the cargo compartment doors have automatically closed as the people walked inside up the ramp. "Back so soon, Marcel? Are we ready to--"
The pilot never got to finish the sentence - as he turned around, his face met the barrel of the firearm pistol, a gunshot echoed through the cockpit, pilot's blood have sprinkled the control panel. De Belmond have pushed the engineer into the seat in the cargo compartment - apparently, it was refitted for personnel transportation instead of regular shipments, and that played at the hand of De Belmond. "Sit tight, do not misbehave - and i might consider letting you go - after you do what i have invited you for." Emilie took a few spare moments to open the rear door and dispose of the pilot's corpse, leaving it in on the ground, locking down the bay and heading over to his seat - it was time to get the bird flying, it's transponder signal and Belmond's knowledge of Marine Royale friend or foe identification system was enough to cause little to no trouble with departing the planet surface. The engines have started, the shuttle took off, it shook - and Belmond have set course for the extraction point.


The shuttle bursted out from the atmosphere, it took him a few moments to stop shaking and stabilise. All the emergency indicators that lit red a moment ago, now went dark, and all the systems were nominal as Emilie-Sophie ran her gaze over the indicator panel. What mattered the most - the communications, previously jammed, have now been indicated as working. Not hesitating a single moment, De Belmond have sent a short message over a secure frequency.
"Dreamer, this is Loire. The gift have been picked up. Stray sheep is heading back to the flock. Expect them soon."
De Belmond have cut the comms and set course to Charost, not trusting the autopilot to handle the flight and controlling it's every moment manually.

A lone freighter have been burning it's last bits of fuel navigating amidst the ice crystals; it's had a defined course, and the pilot have only hoped that they won't run out of oil reserves before they, at least, get within the scanner array range. This have been giving them a distant hope for a rescue party to arrive before the ship will turn into a lifeless husk with no one alive aboard. De Belmond have breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the dispatcher opening communication channel. "Approaching ship, identify yourself." De Belmond smiled, and, along with a verbal response, have duplicated her personal identification codes with a data burst on the dispatched frequency.
"This is Loire, carrying a valuable asset for Étendard Noir. Requesting docking permission. My arrival is awaited." A brief moment of concerning silence have struck the opened channel, with only distant mumbling heard through it briefly - before an actual response came in. "You have been granted docking clearance. Second hangar has a clear launchpad, proceed to it." De Belmond have directed the captured freighter to the designated launchpad.

The external thrusters have activated, positioning the ship right on top of the gravitational pad. In 90% cases that action, casual at a first glance, was considered too delicate, and was often performed automatically, with only the most skilled pilots performing that maneuver manually. The ship have stopped, hovering at the gravitational pad, it's engines shut, the door of cargo compartment opening and it's ramp extending, with two people walking down the ramp and stepping on the solid surface. De Belmond expected one person to meet her. It was the first time they have met in person, and still she greeted him in the most informal way possible, appearing way less strict that he could initially consider her. She was tall enough not to stand on her toes when she was hugging most of the people she thought she could do that with.

"I'm home, Etienne." She smirked, looking at him down up - a minor height difference was still present.