Freeport Nine--Conference Room 6

[n00bl3t]

Sebastien Coen was loathing walking into another negotiation room. Either way, it had to be done. He had been summoned and it was his responsibility. He did take precautions however. Guns may not have been permitted, but everything else went. Especially when it was not even noticeable.

He wore flowing robes, embroidered to represent diplomacy and that of peace. Underneath he wore closely fitted armour. He carried quick strobe pulse LED's attached to the underneath of his forearms. On top there were communication datapads so it would not look out of place, and so he could communicate with the people that were part of the Freeport XV talks at any time, or anyone else in Sirus. His left leg contained a fifteen minute moulded fit-tank reservoir of oxygen, with a quick-inflate mask and goggles.

He did have a chuckle about the irony of his attire to an old friend about it earlier in a transmission, but he knew it may be needed.

"Survival by any means possible." His mentor taught him that before disappearing.

His sabre had landed on Freeport 9 with an escort of two gunboats and four fighters. Back in Omicron 74 there were two Juggernauts, six Fearlesses and three escort wings on full alert just outside Freeport XV. If things happened, their job was to punch in and grab the Omicroner leadership. It was the Seneca fallback taskforce. The Seneca taskforce activated the Pisonian fallback; a similar detail was pushing patrols from Freeport XV to other stations in Omicron 74. It's job was to protect the Theta hole should the Seneca taskforce be called into action. The Pisonian replacement taskforce activated the compulsory Operation Nero; which required the elimination of the Corsair representative on Freeport XV. Of course, most of this was not known to many, and just a fallback should things go according to plan.

Coen sighed. He hoped any further battles concerned only words.

The gunboats had moved off from Freeport 9 and would conduct runs between the Omicron 74 hole and the Freeport. The other four fighters had landed. Their armed guards had secured their fighters, just like Coen. They circled Coen and all entered the corridor from the hangar bay.

Coen sighed again. He did not want this to be the way things had to be from now on, but he would always be prepared.

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It's not a conspiracy, it's localised bias. They're not intelligent enough to form a conspiracy.