Boucher and Remi carried their beverages and meandered the halls, heading for the lift. This installation was unlike anything he’d seen before, he was used to the cold metallic interiors of small star bases and installation with their lifeless sterile light. This place was in stark opposition. The interior of the gathering space and halls was lit with a warm yellow light and planter boxes existed in many areas giving a soft, vibrant feel. Boucher sipped his coffee as they entered the lift and keyed the top floor and began their ascent.
A few moments later, the two men exitted the doors into another world entirely: much of the sunward side of the stations walls were heavy plate glass, and the ceiling supplemented immense, warm yellow light, brightening the entire space. The large room was filled with the business of growing things, dozens of mature fruit trees and vegetation of all kind were in planters along the walls and forming aisles through the space. A small fountain babbled at one end, and the ground had rustic stone pavers in place of steel catwalks.

“We knew you Gaians were nature lovers, but this, this is like a cathedral of life Monsieur Blackwood. Quite delightful a retreat you have here” Remi said, taking a sip from his steamy brew.
“Now, in such luxurious a meetingplace, let us discuss the soon-to-be departed Royalists” Balian moved to a wicker bench and took a seat.

:::After leaving for a while, Boucher enters the room, sits down and takes a sip of coffee:::
Pardon the Interruption gentlemen, I had to step out for a brief communication with Étienne Sechy whoever that is. He's from some fancy group I never heard of - Étendard Noir. Looks like we might have more people interested in those things floating over there and they might join us.

:::Boucher looks around:::
This place is indeed fancy, tranquil, Zen-like almost mr. Blackwood, I sure enjoy this calming coffee. In fact - I feel very relaxed, peaceful myself now....So how do we blow these refugees up in the most brutal and public way possible. What are we thinking - good old hijacking of a former Confederate liner, rig it with explosives, send it to join and blow up the convoy while we distract the escorts by assaulting them with our strike craft so the Liner moves in close unchecked? You know - good old bait and switch, sow chaos in their ranks as they think their new allies attacked them. Just brainstorming here.
:::Boucher says casually, as he calmly takes another sip of his coffee:::

Reenntering the stunning ambience of the Gaian's conservatory had baecome something of a guilty pleasure for Balian in the recent weeks of planning and negotiatiing their upcoming operation in Orkney. He was quick to volunteer to carry secure communique's to the Nemesis cell whenever Boucher brought them forth and this time was no different, although it would likely be one of their final visits since the time was at hand.

He could always trust to find Monsieur Blackwood here poring over his reports and data, as his sort of make-shift study and who could blame? After months of seeing nothing but the void and your insular cockpit and panels, seeing growing plants and the warm light distilled here was joyful to the soul.

Balian approached Blackwood and his attendants quickly,
"Monsieur, the final preparations are being made. We've made contact with a band of Brigands who've thrown in their support as well as other Maquis factions. We've also secured an acquisition point for the Explosives to be used but will need your folks to prep them once they arrive here. That is all for now, I must get back, we have much to finish up."