Not too far away from Cordes Outpost, the cloaked Apahanta faced an overwhelming gallic force stationed at the base. A gallic battleship, escorted by multiple battlecruisers, destroyers, gunboats and plenty of snubcraft actively patrolling the area around Cordes. Taking in the sight, Ezrael tried to keep his heartbeat normal. Coming here was a big risk, not only for him but his entire crew and his ship. The moment the Apahanta would uncloak, or get uncloaked, they were trapped. The jump drive would require thirty seconds for the emergency jump. The idea was to remain distant enough to not allow anything to disrupt the Apahanta in a worst case scenario.
Standing infront of the large window of the observation deck, Ezrael exhaled. Noel was right next to him. The young boy had adapted a certain behavior from Ezrael - like him, he was chewing on his cheeks when nervous. "Those are many ships."
"Yeah," Ezrael merely sounded, looking specifically at the Valor. He had seen those beasts ripping Dunkirks apart in New London multiple times. A single hit of the Warwolf on the unshielded Mako could cause hull breaches on multiple decks. An image Ezrael didn't want to have in his mind.
"If anything goes wrong, we're fucked," The young Rheinlander said, having a similar picture in his mind.
"Yeah."
"You're sure you want to do this?" the boy asked him, then turning towards the Curacaoan to look up at him. Noel was more than a head shorter than Ezrael, and around ten years younger. It didn't particularly calm him down to see his mentor, idol and best friend having doubts himself.
"Yeah."
Noel poked his side with a finger. "You're not really boosting my confidence like that."
"Yeah." Noel frowned at him, and Ezrael turned his head to face the skinny man next to him, smirking. "I mean, we will clearly submit to their superiority for the time being, Noel. The battlegroup they have there was either already stationed here to guard the entrance to Gallia or because they were expecting a warship to arrive at Cordes, which is reasonable of them to do. After all, we're independent. Rogue. Militaries don't like that, and given we're having weapons of mass destructions, they have all reason to. The Apahanta isn't a luxury liner, after all, but a warship."
Both looked back at the ships around Cordes. And both began to chew on their cheeks again. "We've never given them a reason to oppose us. Because of that I don't expect them to fool us or ambush the Apahanta. Gallia has, so far, kept their word when people dealt with them, and I respect that. I just hope they respect us to a certain degree as well," the athletic Curacaoan explained, placing a hand on Noel's shoulder, wanting to gesture some confidence.
"And you go there on your own? No security robots, no away team?" Noel asked him, looking at Ezrael's leather-covered hand. Then he scanned Ezrael's body with his eyes. No holster for a gun, no armor. Just his Apahanta suit and his black leather jacket over it. "Is that your diplomatic outfit? No cape? No gun?"
"I never really finished the design for something more honorific for diplomatic meetings, so yeah, that'll need to suffice. Was sufficing for Bretonia, Enma and Auxesia as well. Or do you think something is wrong with that?"
"Ouh, no, not really," Noel gave him back, giving him an awkward smile. "Maybe the admiral likes the daring adventurer more than the honorable diplomatic brownnoser."
"According to Sombs, the amiral knows every single inch about my body already. She has a file on me and the Apahanta, you know, and possibly a collection of all scenes that ever ended up on the neural net, I'm actually hoping she is, beyond the facade of a military leader, a gallic woman through and through."
Noel gave him a questioning glance. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Patting Noel's shoulder twice, Ezrael exhaled before he continued. "Gallic women are said to be elegant, pragmatic, aesthetic and hedonistic where hedonism is appropiate. They don't eat a meal, they enjoy a meal. They are playful, enjoying admiration like any other person, but within tasteful limits. Seducing a gallic woman requires a perfect balance between dominance and submission."
"Ez, you do remember this is a diplomatic meeting, right? Not a single bar," Noel reminded him, frowning at his Captain.
Ezrael however booped Noel's nose, which made him blink out of surprise. Something he did frequently with Maren as well. "Of course I am there to represent the Apahanta, to convince her that we pose no threat to Gallia while hinting that tricking us would be a fatal mistake. A bit Vitamine D however to make her comfortable with me in her backyard should help, though."
"You mean Vitamine B," Noel said in an attempt to correct his suddenly rather sovereign captain.
"Then it would be Bick. Makes no sense, Noel."
The young boy needed a second to get the joke. Then he smirked up at Ezrael. "Just... be careful, alright?"
Ezrael's physical response said more than needed. The tall curacaoan hugged the small rheinlandian boy and kept him embraced for half a minute. Noel placed his temple against Ezrael's chest, exhaling while looking over at the gallic battlegroup. Only now he realzed Ezrael had tried a different parfume today. It was less fruity and more musky. Quite intriguing, he found.
"You can let go now, Noel," Ezrael sounded quietly, only to have Noel realize it was only himself continuing the hug right now. Blushing, he let go of Ezrael and moved a step back. "Don't worry. Everything will be alright, and even in the case of something going wrong, Sherry has her orders. You and the ship and crew won't get harmed, and they have no benefit in harming me either."
"Okay." In the end, Noel had no other choice than to trust Ezrael's words. Nodding in agreement, he watched Ezrael making a move to head for the hangar bay. Then, however, Ezrael returned to Noel to hug him once more, and to his surprise, peck him on his head.
"Make sure the ship is still running when I come back, Noel. And don't eat too many sweets in my absense, I'll check your medical values later," Ezrael sounded, brushing over the boys cheek before leaving.
Remaining where he was, Noel looked out of the window again, wanting to wait here until he saw the Hussar, the Charming Rover, launch and head for Cordes. "Good luck, Captain..."
A few minutes later, the cloak of the Apahanta faded for a moment as the bretonian light fighter left the hangar. The local patrols were informed, and while the cloaked Mako moved to reposition itself somewhere else in the area, the Charming Rover headed straight for Cordes. Ezrael was anticipating the meeting with Amiral Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup...
