The Brass Spire

[Foxglove]

The mooring fixture made a nauseatingly grating sound as the Pendragon came to a halt and the pressure was released from the airlock. Dr. Teresa Martinez stood in front of it, bristling slightly as the sound of metal against metal caused major goosebumps. She gave her assistant, Dr. Adrian Wight, a wary look by her side as the airlock opened and the two of them stepped outside, followed by a woman with auburn hair that was hardly remarkable and only stood out due to the fact that she wasn't wearing anything formal, like Martinez and Wight were.

The trio moved into the station proper, leaving their ship behind. Martinez was quite sure that they needed to wait somewhere accessible so that the Brigands they were supposed to meet could take them to where they needed to be. She had heard of Planet Marne, though she had never seen it, much less been there. It would be exciting to say the least. She flexed the hand that held the briefcase on her right slightly, trying to suppress some of the building anticipation. They reached the main deck of the Freeport, a ramshackled place full of lowlife degenerates, though she guessed this was as public as it could get. There were some shops and restaurants strewn about the place, though it was immediately evident that they were on a space station. Seeing no other alternative, Martinez signalled for the others to follow her to a rundown café where they could wait and preferably spend as little credits as possible. Before they sat down, she sent a message to the contact she had been given by Rousseau, transmitting their location so they could be picked up.

Only a short while after the arrival of the first party, a second ship arrived in the main hanger of Freeport 6 and it was rather denotable as being owned by pirates, or at least those to be considered less reputable members of society. The ship is covered in various different markings and artwork done in a graffiti style, some of it was actually quite good which is the last thing you'd expect from a collection of lowlifes. As the ship touched down its wings were clamped in place by the station ensuring its immobility and safety within the hanger.

Shortly after its touch down, a small party began to make their way down onto the landing pad. There were four of them in total, two decked out in armour that looking strikingly riot gear, minus the helmets, and wielding long and expensive rifles, clearly not of Gallic origin. Meanwhile the other two individuals carried small side arms attached to their belts. "You two - behind me." One of the men quickly snapped at his henchmen. The group slowly began making their way through the station to the location that had been provided. After a few turns and corners they were in a large open area filled with an annoyingly large amount of people. The group took a moment to look for any individuals that looked like those they were after, but were seemingly unable to locate the café they'd been directed to.

"Hmm. One moment." The leader of the four suddenly stated before proceeding to pull out a comm-tool and typing a message away and sending it off.

'We can't really see it, where abouts' is this place?'

They had spent about half an hour sequestered away in comfortable semi-solitude. Still, the ambience wasn't really the most inviting when it came to helping appetite, and so the three had settled for getting simple coffee instead. The beeping of Martinez' PDA marked the incoming message of their entourage. "They appear to have gotten lost," Martinez commented wryly and stood up, followed by the others.

It wasn't particularly hard to make out who they were supposed to meet, since the Brigands effectively were the only people who looked around as if they didn't know where to go. "Gentlemen," Martinez called out as her group approached the waiting men that were armed to the teeth. "I believe you are looking for us?"

The individual in the centre stood forward, bring the attention towards him. Upon a closer inspection the wide array of intricate patterns on his arms and face became blatantly visible. He quickly asked in a rather serious tone, "Are you Doctor Martinez?"

"Yes," Martinez answered, figuring it was not a good idea to use too complicated words and get straight to the point. She didn't know how hollow the head of this one was, though the tattoos gave some indication. "These are my..." she trailed off as she looked at the woman with slightly curled, auburn hair that had accopnied them. She hadn' spoken a single word yet. "Assisants," she finished.

"I... See," the leader replied. "Well. Let me introduce myself then, I guess. My name is Zero, right hand man of Rousseau." Everything about this guys tone changed during his introduction, clearly taking a certain amount of pride in his title. "These are my henchmen." He added gesturing at his bodyguards but quickly amended his statement, "Their names are not important, my pilot is waiting back at the ship, if you are ready to depart Doctor."

"Quite so," she replied, looking up at this 'Zero'. The name was so seedy, she could swear she could spit bits of it out by merely speaking it, but she remained quiet. She also wondered whether these men would search them for weapons and the likes, though wasn't going to ask either.

Martinez beckoned for Adrian and the woman to follow, and together, they would make their way back to these guys' ship. To not remain in too uncomfortable a silence, however, she tried making some conversation, though Adrian spoke before she could. "Why Zero?" he asked, maybe a bit more bluntly than Martinez would have liked.

The question came as a small surprise to Zero, and his small entourage, but it shouldn't have been an unexpected question. His henchmen, not so subtly, moved their heads in closer to catch the response.

"Well, that on its own is a long story, and not one that is widely known even among the Brigands." After turning the corner, Zero pointed towards the ship in the centre of the hangar and made a short cough to draw attention to it. "If you are so inclined to hear the tale, I'll gladly tell you on the way to Marne. However, first we have to board this fine ship," his arm waving around in the general vicinity of vessel.

Fine was a little bit of a hyperbole. Still, it had a certain rusty charm to it. "I wouldn't mind hearing it," Martinez said, glad that Zero hadn't taken offence to Adrian's directness. She figured Zero might even like that, given his position. The group boarded the vessel. The interior was just as cobbled together as it looked from the outside, though it didn't overly appear to be dirty. Good. If there was one thing Martinez couldn't stand, it would be dirtiness.

"How long will it take to Marne?" Adrian asked as he entered after me, followed by the girl with auburn hair.

The pilot quickly responded to the question presented, cutting off any chance for the 'more important' crew members to answer. "We're looking at about between twenty or thirty minutes. We'll be using jumpholes to avoid detection. Should only be extended if we catch wind of any Royals that might be in our way, but it should be clear." Unlike the Zero, who's accent was rather tame compared to most Gallics, the pilot had a very thick and difficult to understand accent. Many of his words sounded completely different from the actual pronunciation, yet that was a common problem between different regions around Gallia.

Teresa mouthed an 'ah' sound before sitting down in one of the sparse seats that were arranged on the walls opposite of one another. It very much so had the air of a military vessel, just... wrong. "In any case," Adrian said before sitting down by Teresa's side, pulling the other girl with him to sit down as well. "If the story of your name is rather long, it'd be the perfect filler for that time."

"It could be longer." Zero spoke bluntly. "It really depends how much flair I put into it, it could answer it in a sentence, but that is no fun at all." The pilot, while getting himself settled in, called out to his passengers, or more specifically Zero, "Well, keep it within the duration of the journey, S'il vous plait." Zero simply nodded in response.

Zero cleared his throat. "Now, where to begin? Something you should know is my real name. I'm Nathen Roux by birth, but I prefer my handle - I've gone by it for more years than I've not." He takes a small pause, noticing the his Brigand guards and sat down with their heads leaned forwards, it's rather apparent they've wanted to know for a while. "Many many years ago, back before Rousseau was running the show, me and him were partners in crime. Back then we did many odd jobs for the previous warlord of Marne, as reliable people were ever so hard to come by."

"Can't say I can relate too well," Teresa meant while crossing her legs as she sat. The engines started coming alive and a poorly dampened jolt alerted the passengers that the ship had started moving. "How is it like, Marne? City planet like Leeds?"

Zero pondered, trying to put his words correctly as not to give off the wrong impression. "Marne is.. Marne is diverse. Most people think it to be a unstructured pirate haven, but it is quite the opposite. While it is true there are areas of mass lawlessness there are other areas to that are completely structured and governed by Rousseau. Well, and there are the other parts of the Planet that are under Council rule - they are closer to a government than we will ever be." Zero chuckles to himself at the thought.

"Sounds like a ball painted two different colors," Adrian said, shrugging. Teresa cringed at the comparison.

"If you want a simplified description, then yes. Yet, as I imagine you know well enough, comparing complex things into a dumbed down version tends to leave out crucial details. Trying to sum up Marne in a sentence, now that would be a challenge."

"Wasn't meant like that," Adrian muttered, though Teresa elbowed him in the sides. She idly wondered why she was doing this right now, given that it was mostly him who was reminding her of minding her manners.

"How is that like being next to the Council like that?" Teresa asked, cocking her head slightly. "Isn't there friction?"

"Hardly." Zero said bluntly. "We are not completely segregated communities, as much as it may seem that way. It was with the Council and the Marquis that Brigands successfully captured the planet in the first place, so the Council and Brigands have always got along - they just disagree with some of our practices is all."

While Zero was giving the brief history of the Brigands the pilot had fully readied the ship for launch and was start the procedure. One of Zero's guards joined him in the cockpit just before the launch commenced, leaving the room mid sentence. As the ship began to leave the hangar there was a rather high amount of rattling and shaking caused while still in the station, but it ceased the moment they had cleared the dock. It was clear Zero hadn't brought the best of the Brigand ships.

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