The eloquence of Hemlocke, as he spoke about such highly complex topics, surprised Hester a little. Something she’d not let the others see as she continued to listen on. As the nomads and their enigmatic master’s the Daam K’Vosh are mentioned, she took another sip of her gin, emptying the glass before carefully setting it down. She hated the fact that these things existed, she hated it even more that they scared her a little. Humans you can talk to, you can see into their eyes and all their emotions can be laid bare. Through one mean or another. These things, you can’t do that with. Better to render them onto a torch.
It was then that Chloe made her high energy entrance. The voice was somewhat familiar to Hester as the two might’ve met in space previously but she might just misremember. Either way she was glad that the last person they had waited for was not adding to the already existing theme. She gave the hacker girl a polite smile before waving to the aide and grabbing one of the salt-flavoured packs of chips. On and on the discussion went, thoughts entering Hester’s mind that she might’ve brought to word but that in the end she would need to discuss with Damien afterwards. The Wyoming was of a particular concern to her and the bag of chips slowly emptied and another gin was poured.
Then the flow of conversation switched over to the topic of Erie. She was familiar with it. The news on Denver had been full of reports of how the Zoners were at fault fro the entire situation and how Liberty would impose “Law and Order” onto these free-spirited people. The suppressor's boot came crashing down. She had gathered a lot more details after returning to the Alliance. Especially whenever she visited Milford, she got along with them and they told her some interesting bits from time to time. As the Militant’s gaze rested on her she, briefly closed her eyes before looking to Damien, he has to make the decision of how to help. If the Alliance even sends aid.
"Great"Drake answered with a smile as he reached into his left pocket to get out a silver briefcase with gold lining offering the participants at the table a cigarette."Beautiful thing isn't it?"He looked down at the briefcase after lighting a cigarette. "Well, Morretti if it's killing down some corporate weenies I am all down for it I believe I don't have to get serious here. If the Liberty Government does get its way with this supposed alien artifact, very dark times will be ahead of us. I'll do my best with electronic warfare in this scenario."Drake puffed on his cigarette and sweet smoke filled the room."Sweet Afton, my favorite brand if you were curious.""However, I suggest we begin working to set things in motion."
The Lane Hacker Assassins
"Killing the corporate weenies, so our kids can live in a free and just galaxy."
"The circumstances and the timing aren't quite right to go and liberate Erie outright, at least not just yet. Liberty has too strong a grip and too many assets on standby to keep it that way. We need to grind that down - slowly. To this end the Alliance can provide a limited degree of material support and oversight. We've been fighting your newfound oppressor for a long time. Lends a certain kind of insight." The display rapidly flicked through depictions of the equipment on offer, ranging from guns to rovers before then just displaying a reel of guncam shots from fights taken over the course of the last century. It was rapidly cut together and with a clear presence of mind, exemplified by the last image depicting Erie as the fledgling colony it once was.
Tomas' jaw clenches, the sunken cheeks give away the dancing muscles shifting left to right, an eyebrow twitches once. Prior to the meeting he rehearsed to curb expectations, to not be too optimistic, the colleagues chewed at his ear that both fronts are not unanimous. But his blood broils, knowing that Erie's meatgrinder will continue spinning, the offer to ship light supplies only delays the inevitable. He looks down at the table to recompose himself, to then recollect the supplies offered - vehicles. "Rovers, you say, you mean the Variable Yield Patrol Rover?"
"Now we're talkin', this tool will be a gamechanger for our hit-n-run attacks at their planetside garrisons and convoys. Suppose you also have anti-armour charges for this beauty, I hope?" His expression lights up with a confident smile. "Our forces would gain the upper hand in disrupting Libertonian logistics. They might reach Erie, but they won't be dispersed so easily anymore with a rapid vehicle such as this." Enthusiasm filled his entire tone, maybe this summit wasn't for nought after all, but before he can savour this "victory" he shoots Cobra the important question. "When can we expect to organise shipments? I will notify my brethren to prepare pickup if needed."
He looked up and to the side, like a calculator had just turned on in his mind. This silence went on for roughly three seconds before his eyes snapped back in Tomas' direction.
"Production line reports indicated five units fit for shipment in seven days. Plus additional complement of hot-swap capable turrets and ammunition required. Additional ammo and spare component shipments can occur once every two weeks while additional shipments of VYPR units can occur once every four weeks. Shipments will likely remain restricted five VYPR units to prevent a deficit should we need them to secure Sudbury. There are roughly a dozen different main armament choices we currently produce for the VYPR, ranging from anti-air missiles to plasma throwers. Swap out the guns as the situation requires, Tomas."
Every rebellion needed its fast attack vehicle, and the VYPR could do this and more depending what its main armament was replaced with. If not so constrained by their inherent lack of finances and resources, the design would be far more formidable than it currently was. Still, it represented a respectable tenacity for production capability and design techniques.
With no thoughts spared for the potential human rights violations plasma throwers entailed, of course.
Hearing the logistical details come out so convincingly from the Alliance Commander might be the best news the Erie Rebel would hear since four years ago, it's like a christmas miracle. He pulls out his PDA to note the shipping details and frequency, mumbling ever so slightly under his breath the specifics.
"First shipment... of five... seven days... includes ammo and turrets..."
"Ammo package every two weeks...."
"Additional vehicles every four weeks..."
Finishing up and setting the PDA down he remarks to Cobra with content. "Right. Gotcha. I'm keen on them plasma launchers, sounds like the perfect equaliser since the Libertonians are so damn numerous. We're gonna shock and awe those damn bastards. Oh, and those anti-air pods? They're are going to feel that one alright." He spewed the giddy theoreticals, smirking at the thought of roasted Libertonians. Tomas was confronted with so many ideas and options upon hearing this foreseeable arsenal upgrade, but he seems to have forgotten something critical... What can he offer to the Xeno Alliance?
"Your donations to my cause would mean a great deal, and rest assured it will not be one-sided. As of now, I can only offer what I can;
I will vouch for you to my colleague-militants, garnering you favour amongst our movement. This potentiates into more ships.
I will bring my own Q-Ship in support of your combat operations within our conflict zones. She survived the Day Of, and so she will survive whatever alien menace that may attack Ontario. Of course, she is also thirsty for Navy and LSF ships, and the combo - if need be."
He of course refers to the Wyoming.
"You help our planetside, I'll help your spaceside, sound good?"
Damien gave Tomas a brisk nod, giving the sense that if here seated closer this would have been a handshake instead. "Deal." A simple enough way to seal that transaction and ensure that two fronts were working together.
Erie was the less complex of the issues at hand, decidedly human in nature and with known adversaries only. If only Ontario were so simple. Though a part of him realized things would be far less interesting, and the scope for glory far narrower if those circumstances were indeed replicated across the board. Sometimes fate had to be cruel in order for fortunes to be kind.
"If there's nothing else, we can conclude today's session and get in some rest. We can meet again tomorrow morning system-time." He looked across the room as if searching for objections or discomfort.