"Hmmph. Fair enough." Taking a sip of the wonderful drink that was slid over to him, he stands up slowly. "I'm going to pop out, something I need to verify. I'll bring the glass back later, eh?"
And without another word, he turns and exits the bar to do.. who knows what.
Young person entered Sylvania Dome, wearing black cloak... Cloak was hidding her long blond hair and her body. Her eyes were looking for something, someone and after a while she went to the table and sat down on the chair
Where's he... Where's that Liberty hero... And he is Security Force agent... And he thinks I'm infested... Why not let's have some fun!! If he shows his head without a brain...!
The gentle hum of conversation had settled over the Maurer memorial garden like a particularly virulent smog. Foreign voices swam through the air, intertwining with the almost imperceptible pulse of the three-tiered fountain that dominated this part of the Sylvania dome. Camille sat upon a bench at the fountain's edge, staring into the meticulously filtered water. Carefully cultivated moss lined the stone-textured plastic, patches of greenery stretching out towards the feet of passers-by with delicate fingers. A half-overgrown plaque rested near the foot of her bench, faded bronze etching standing in unnoticed memorial to a Zoner explorer who had apparently borne the name Onishi Gaku. She kicked a half-inch of moss from the plate, eyes searching the passing crowd with a nervous energy that set her heel tapping a beat against the cobbles. It was an amateur's mistake, but that was okay. The Order would be expecting an amateur.
The journey from Oubli had passed smoother than she could have hoped for, Freeport 10's officials sparing her altered papers little more then a cursory glance. The Eagle that crouched several decks below did not, whatever the documentation in her pocked proclaimed, below to her. Tattered and faded, the fighter's original owner had parted with it easily enough, trading the decrepit ship for a pardon and a promise of work, neither of which were in her power to give. She gave a mental shrug. It hardly mattered, in the scheme of things. The smuggler would receive whatever mercy the courts decided upon, and the ship had served to carry her here, a far worthier use than ferrying cardamine to the Gallic edge worlds. Despite herself, she felt a faint trill of enthusiasm.
The Order were ghosts, phantoms lingering at the edge of major events in the sector. Rumor had it that they even had eyes within Gallia's own borders, though Camille scoffed at that particular notion. Regardless, the Order was a significant force in Sirius, and one that barely anyone seemed to know anything about. Certainly, they knew the organisation existed, and supposedly did so to fight the aliens, but her contacts had offered little more then vague assurances at the mention of the group once derided in the Sirian houses as terrorists. And she was to meet one. If not for the conditions that fostered the meeting, it was almost a triumph in itself. She pivoted on the bench, returning her attention to the milling crowds.
Kenji repeatedly was checking the clock. The time for the meeting with that GRN officer was comming. The enthusiasm was showing in his expression, however it was not brought by the meeting, more by the game he was expecting to get. From time to time he have been looking through the crowd, pausing his look on some people and giving them a barely visible signs, while himself staying further away from the negotiated place. Aparently he did not trusted to his contact, however oportunity couldn't be wasted.
As there was only a couple of minutes left before they should have met, Kenji moved to the Maurer memorial garden, quickly moving his look from one face to another, examining them and trying to pick the one he expected. Eventualy he noticed a lady siting on the bench who have been looking through the crowd. Stoping in a few steps away he quickly overviewed the strategy in his mind and then went closer. The lady seem to notice him when he approached her.
"Expecting someone?" he asked in a laid-back tone, making a short smile.
"Perhaps." Camille rose to her feet as the man approached, quickly switching her focus back to the fountain, as though he were a wraith that would vanish if she allowed her gaze to linger. Beneath the fountain's surface, a carp luxuriated in an artificial current, tail rippling like the sail of an ancient warship. Camille regarded the Kusarian out of the corner of her eye as the man approached, seemingly half-focused on the fountain wildlife. He was almost a head taller then she was.
"Strange, is it not?" She gestured toward a pair of blue fish hovering in the clear water. "That they can spend a lifetime beneath the surface, content to grow and live out whatever lives they may. To endure life between plastic walls and never know that the life they lead is an illusion." She scooped a pebble from the ground, tossing it from one hand to other, dirt etching a faint pattern on her palms. "Imagine it. How infallible must we seem to a carp, if it is even aware of us at all, we must be horrifyingly foreign. To live a life as little more then an ornament for a power so vastly beyond you that it defies comprehension." The pebble hit the water with a dull plop, sending fish scampering for the cover of the fountain."I do wonder, would they fight it if they knew what they were to us? If they were capable of comprehending, of struggling, how far would they be willing to go? To struggle against what, to them, must seem to be godlike power." A pair of hazel eyes drifted up to meet the Kusarian's, a sort of persiflage echoed in them. "And what would they need to do to succeed?"
Unexpecting to hear such beginning of the conversation Kenji didn't find anything to answer right away. With a surprised smile he looked at his company, then at the fountain. The surprise disappeared from his fase as he found something to answer and in a calm maner leaned his hand on the fountain's edge, watching the fish that was just scared by a Gaul.
"Without luck a prisoner do not have much chanses to succeed against his jailer. Yet, the ones that can not see their freedom will not even try their luck." He turned with his back to the fountain, looking back at his interlocutor. "But if you let them go, no matter how mindless they might seem to you, they will struggle against being captured again. Strongest will fight. Weakest will run. Both is a kind of struggle." An amused smile appeared on his face as he said last part.
"Ryuho, I presume?" She inclined her head in a suppressed bow. "If not, then it appears Naval Intelligence has developed a taste for the poetic lately. Camille, as I'm certain you're well aware. I cannot say I was certain you would come."
"Time is limited, I'm afraid, so I must be brief. The longer I remain out of Gallia, the more likely it becomes that Naval Intelligence will notice my absence." She raised an eyebrow expectantly. What secrets did this man know? Fighting the aliens was one thing. Doing so with any chance of winning was entirely another. "I have no desire to see my homeland reduced to the state of a baited animal, fighting for whatever creature nudges the muzzle just so. We will not be puppets. Yet, it seems that that may be just what is happening. Has already happened, if the present situation is any guide. The Royal Navy is, to my knowledge, the only military with a policy of neutrality towards the creatures." She was loathe to call them nomads. It loaned the aliens, already terrifying by their very nature, a horrible sense of inevitability. They would wipe Gallia clean, and move on. She did not need to feign the fear in her voice. "The individual we spoke of earlier was the source of that particular order and, therefore, the majority of my concern."
"What I propose-." She paused a moment. This was high treason, by any estimation. Assassination of a Marechal of the Royal Navy was a crime second only to an attempt on the King's life. If she were tried, any noble house in Gallia would have her head, and the Royal Navy doubly so, if only after the interrogators were finished their work. That she never would be, one way or another, sent a faint trickle of amusement dancing up her spine that threatened to twist her lips into a smile. "Is to remove him. I trust you have a suggestion as to how to proceed?"
The smile disappeared from his face as the words of a Gaul surprised him. He looked straight at Camille. Her offer was a very decisive. But she did not sound doubtful. Her words were said so straight that Kenji for a moment believed her. But if she was in for this, she could have just done it herself. She was afraid, but of what - death or something else? The questions kept rising in his head. Yet, he could not fully trust to her. In either case he decided to try and ask. With yet slightly surprised face he began talking after a pause.
"That is a rather decisive offer." he made another pause, shorter this time, to consider the approach. With a thoughtful look ahead he said "I doubt that assassination will bring benefits. His post will be replaced, policy barely will change, unless knowing person takes it." taking a look back at her he added "And yet, if you came to this judgement, why won't you do it? As my information says this person is not siding his subordinates. Getting in close would not be hard." with a quieter voice he added "And that is one hundred percent chanse for success, even if it will cost too much..."
A certain young girl sits on top of the trees overlooking one of the parks within the dome, being perhaps quite a good climber to reach the full height on one of the top branches, merely watching the people walk and talk below her. Perhaps even looking upon with some sort of envy, although she made no move otther than to watch.
Ever since she was left here, she actually was quite interested in everything that went along in this place. Not being used to crowded places, however actually enjoying this quite a bit, although she was not an active participant.
The man that she met when she arrived, was an.. interesting one, but she hasn't had too much contact besides the mere time she sees him now and then.
Leaning over slightly, watching a head pass underneath her, she slowly draws her arms around herself with a slight smile, sitting back against the trunk of the tree once more, merely to relax her muscles and enjoy the warmth the stations system provided.