A young servant holding a tray with four glasses of wine made his way through a long hallway. Gaps between high rising pillars were adorned with busts of Corsair Elders and their faces immortalised in marble stared ahead with empty eyes. As the young man knocked on the gilded door at the end of the hallway his eyes fell on one of the many paintings hanging on the walls, shrouded in deep shadows. It depicted a massive Legate battleship flying through a burning cloud of debris. Although the painting was modest in size, the depiction underneath clearly captured his attention and drew his amusement as a small grin appeared on his face. It read: “Captain Armin, for whom no sacrifice was too big to defend the empire.”
The gilded door was opened from the inside by a large brutish man, dressed in a dark Corsair military uniform. The man’s head was shaved bald part from a moustache like pluck of hair on the front of his head, combed to either side. He did not speak but simply nodded and stepped aside, revealing a large drawing room. The room had a sense of regality, Kusarian pillows lay on large sofas decorated with border world gems and Bretonian gold. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and the walls were covered by thick red curtains that had the Brotherhood’s cross woven into them. The room smelled of tobacco, candle wax and a soft undertone of roasted meat. At the end of this room, in front of a large portrait of Elder Sephardi stood a low dais with a large chair upon it. In this chair sat a small uniformed man with curly hair and a long beard. Golden strings draped from his epaulettes shook violently as his hand waved about while he spoke to the three seated men in front of him. The servant interrupted his speech by carefully handing out the glasses of wine, serving the bearded Elder Buonocore first. He then served the most corpulent man, wearing a Carabiñeri uniform. This man, Pepe Ladron, was widely known as el Comisario and in charge of the Brotherhood’s mostly planetside police forces, the Carabiñeros. The third man to receive a glass of wine, Tribune Machete, towered over the other men. He was wearing his black Brotherhood flightsuit, and stood out from the other men not only because of his length but also because of his long black hair, draping the sides of his scarred and muscular face. The final man to receive a glass of wine wore a business suit, in the western house style as it was known on planet Crete. He, Alphonso Perez di Martino, had served many years as Elder Buonocore’s Decurion, dealing mostly with administrative duties. In Buonocore’s absence, his ambitions had grown in other directions, keeping a close affiliation with his contacts in the Council of Corsair Elders.
As the servant left the drawing room Buonocore looked over the men seated in front of him. He took a sip from his wine and leaned back in his chair before speaking.
“Ah… wine. It is a marvelous thing is it not? How a juice so rich and civilised can flow from humble soil.”
Buonocore paused and looked across the room. The uncomfortable silence lasted a minute before it was broken by Alphonso Perez who spoke in a nervous tone.
“So Elder, may I ask what is your stance on the Bretonian invasion of our Gran Canaria Protectorate? Many Corsair lives are endangered and the Brotherhood has not done much part from moving a portion of our fleet to Casablanca. Meanwhile the Custodi have been much more helpful by assisting the Gallic-”
Buonocore raised his hand, gesturing Perez to stop speaking and answered with a calm and reserved voice.
“You mean our fleet that has been largely decommissioned in my absence? I believe the root of that problem can be found within Gallic expansionism. They are pushing the Bretonians out of their comfort zone, into our protectorate. Bretonia is such a shadow of its former self that soon there will be nothing left to plunder for us, and nothing left for the Gallic crown to conquer but us.”
Buonocore calmly took another sip from his wine, unmoved by the worried looks on the faces of Ladron and Perez. Another uncomfortable silence took over the room, again it did not seem to bother Elder Buonocore and Tribune Machete. Ladron silently drank his wine, as did Machete and finally, it was Perez who spoke again.
“Elder Presidente, With all due respect I believe your stance on the Gallic subject needs to be challenged. The Gallic crown has promised us full reign over the Cambridge system after the Bretonian forces are toppled. A large majority of Corsair Elders sees this as a good deal. And how can there be doubt about that? The empire would be well served, no I dare say deserves the long awaited expansion in Bretonian space. What better ally could we wish for than the Gallian warfleet, that appeared as if it was a gift of Santa Muerte herself?”
Buonocore sighed and stared at his glass of wine.
“A vineyard is an interesting comparison to our role within the empire señor. A vine left untreated, will grow rapidly, overgrowing other vines, stretching itself out far and tall.
It will also die a premature death, these plants need constant care, and culling. A well cropped vine can outlive his winemaker, and yield much more grapes in the process.
The average Corsair is similar to an untreated vine. He does not know when to stop eating, he does not know when to stop drinking, he will attempt to grow to great heights without considering the future. It takes a wiser man to know when to sacrifice, to build an empire, as how the winemaker knows when to cull. Ladron, summon the other Brotherhood Hermanos of importance and speaking of wine, have a sip Perez.”
Elder Buonocore took off his sunglasses, staring Perez straight into his eyes as he answered.
“I can speak with the Gallians, I can be a liaison, we could invite a representative here to the Sephardi Villa, I am certain we can come to a mutual understanding.”
Elder Buonocore did not blink, but simply gestured to the glas Perez was holding. With a shaking hand Perez brought the glass to his lips, and drank the wine.
As he swallowed, his face turned pale and he coughed violently, dropping the glass that shattered on the floor. Red foam gathered on his lips and within minutes he sank back into his chair.
Perez was no more. His dead body was, however, left in place as an example to those who would arrive shortly.
Silas Ximenez was the first to arrive. Adorning an unzipped green and gold flight jacket with khaki cargo pants he appeared at the doorway which had been priorly opened by one of the room servants.
"By your leave"
Ximenez gave a slight bow and awaited the Buonocore's aknowledgement which was given via a slight nod, approving of his presence. Nodding to each of the remaining officials lucky enough to be alive, Silas stepped across the ornate room toward a window opposite to the Buonocore. He perched himself on the sill there, arms folded and impatient for others to arrive.
Gesturing at him Ladron declared
"Why is he here?"
To which Elder Buonocore responded
"Senor Ximenez is here in a consultatory capacity"
Silas nodded in appreciation of this gesture of respect from someone as high as an elder. Ladron settled into his chair, quitened and uneasy.
A slender looking figure appeared at the door. Giving a quizzical look to the room and the scene, he smirked and walked inside. Martin Silenus had an eerie aura about him which was magnified by his gaze wich he now set upon Silas. Leaning back, Silas returned a look of bemusement and shook his head.
"Gaians..."
Silenus had a strong nose and brow which were framed by waved locks of hair and a ragged beard, giving his visage the likeness of an ornate frescoe or classical bust. He walked over to one of the far corners of the room, noticing Alfonso's corpse, and found a chair. Bringing it to the center of the room, he stood beside it and adressed the Elder Buonocore.
"Acolyte Martin Silenus here to speak on behalf of the Gaians senor Buonocore"
The Buonocore sneered and and waved his wine glass at him with a pointed finger. A servant appeared as if from nowhere to place a goblet of wine into Martin's hand. He accepted it graciously and held it up to the Elder. Buonocore held his gaze intensely and Martin's eyes shifted to Alfonso's corpse only feet away. He took a sip of the wine, letting it roll around his palate and aerating it as a connoiseur. After a moment he gestured at the room as a whole and the goblet in his hand.
"I can always trust you gents to stock only the highest of quality"
Flora paused, seeing the open door, and let out a quiet sigh. She took a second to fix her hair, a little messy after hurrying through the villa, before assuming a slow, confident pace, stepping into the chamber. She wore her personal flight suit, not finding the time to change herself before the summit. She cursed this... Silesia guy for giving the Warden such a short notice, and quite genuinely hoped the Matriarch would end up properly reprimanding him. Her suit wasn't the most official outfit, given the years of personalisation it accumulated across Sirius. The stripes of a Sentinel, floristic patterns, kusarian inscriptions, even a couple symbols from cretan mythology combined into a somewhat colorful appearance, slightly contrastic with more official and toned down attires of everyone else present.
- Hello there. - she greeted them after crossing the doorway, putting on a polite smile. - Sentinel Flora, here on behalf of Warden Collins. - she then made a slight bow, before nodding to Silenus. Her eyes then quickly scanned the attendees, giving Ladron a faint nod as well, before finally noticing that one of them was, in fact dead. She frowned, taking half a step back, before sending questioning glances to other people present.
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It had been a long time since he visited Crete, a visit in which he was never noticed. It hadn't changed much. Doc disembarked from the shuttle which now sat on a landing pad. He refused a security detail saying that for whatever reason, he felt safe on Crete. The truth was, Doc was a mess and was doing a poor job hiding it.
Miguel Sephardi was an old friend and one he missed. The invite from Elder Buonocore was one he took honor in since it was at an estate bearing his friend's name. Doc wasn't sure what to say to his host or how he would hold up. A man recently engaged would normally be a very happy man. He was withdrawn and was looking for something to uplift him. Was this it? He hoped so.
He entered the estate in his gambler's attire with a cape, his pistols present, his right pistol at his left front, his left in a chest holster. At the door, he offered them up but oddly enough, they weren't taken. Considering the firepower around him, he wasn't a threat and right about now, he wasn't there for a fight.
Before he approached the elders, he stopped at the bar. "Scotch, Senor." It was no secret to anyone that it was his drink of choice. He then approached Elder Buonocore.
"Hola, Senor. Buenos dias," he greeted as he extended his right hand, "Gracias for the invite." When they finished shaking hands, Doc looked around at the estate and nodded.
"A fine establishment, Sir," he said kindly.
He then paused, thought a moment and sighed, "God I will miss Tombstone." He raised his glass and took a drink to Tombstone.
He then acknowledged each of the guests, tipping his hat to Flora before addressing the Elder.
"So what do I owe the honor to, Senor?"
Alberto enter the room wearing his usual stained overall. Di Martino give him, as usual, an hostile stare, fearing Rodriguez might, again, sit somewhere he shouldn't. Alberto smirk and take a look at the crowd in the room. He notice his Trustworthy Xim who still have his ugly hair cut and try not laughing.
Alphonso realise that his old master mocking him again but prepare a glass of rum in a blink of a eye. He show up before Alberto.
- Elder Rodriguez, i wasn't expecting you anymore!
Alberto nod at Xim and look at everybody in the room.
- Seem like not everybody is here yet, si?
He not even waiting for the answer and push Xim aside and walk toward his old amigo Juanez. For few seconds, he stay put before Elder Buonocore, looking at him unsure. Then he kneel before his old master and kiss the Buonocore's familia ring.
- Again, El presidente, old 'mano, i swear alligeance to you and ye familia and the corsairs empire!
Juanez nod then smile at his old amigo. Alberto get up and sit at the chair, next to Elder Buonocore and look at Di Martino who is still chocked to see this figure of the past.
- Sorry if i kept you waiting but the Belicista was towed back to Rhodes and didn't had time to change.
The man drink his rum and Xim, as the good decurion he is, make sure Alberto's glass stay filled.
Argus Nikitas glides more than he walks into the room, aware that he's late and the last to arrive. His face remains neutral at he surveys the room, taking in the present Dorians, Doc Holliday and the two Gaians present.
A soft sigh escapes his lips at the sight of the dead body, and Argus shakes his head at the childlike display of power. Well, he was a guest here, even if it had been a reluctant acceptance of the invitation rather than a wanted on.
"Γειά σας," He gives a slight bow, "it is pleasant to see you all today. I speak for the Archon Augustopolos and as well as being the Custodi representative on the Council of Elders. I trust that everyone is here and we can begin our summit?"
Buonocore took a sip from his wine and slowly gazed around the room before speaking.
"Welcome to the Sephardi villa, the former house of Miguel Sephardi, the wise elder, my predecessor, my guide through troubled times. I wonder what it is that he would say about the situation we find ourselves in. I welcome the Custodi to this house, we have not yet formally met before and mi casa es su casa. I respect the time and effort you took to come southwards so close to the equator of Crete, and since I have heard many hombres speak of the wisdom of your people, I look forward to our future, working together to strengthen the empire."
He then turned his gaze towards Holliday and slowly bowed his head before continuing.
"I welcome señor Holliday to this house, Even in the most difficult of times you find the time to grace us with your presence. As a shepherd of a people most misunderstood, hated and persecuted throughout Sirius, I hold nothing but the deepest respect for your loyalty to old friendship. Know that even in the darkest of times, you will find a friend in the Brotherhood, this much I can guarantee you señor. Against all odds, your people, alike mine, shall prevail and prosper. The bravery you have shown in defending the rights of the Corsairs living on Gran Canaria, has not and will not go unnoticed. In this darkest hour it is our turn to defend your people and uphold the protectorate of Omega-49 sworn upon decades ago."
Finally, his eyes fell on the Gaians who'm he greeted with a mild smile.
"To the Gaians I say, bienvenido. I have adorned the room with a dead Corsair since I have heard as of late, it is a sight you take great pleasure in. Let us come closer and discuss this for I feel like we have to reach new agreements, start off on a new page, unless you prefer to side with genocidal maniacs that is. I do not deny that the current situation in Omega 49 can be regarded as a direct result of Gallic expansionism, you might even find a friend in me if you wish to speak about this. Let it be clear though that the Brotherhood will never accept attacks against Corsairs of any background, and will always respond in force. As a young man I have fought alongside your people on many occasions, Some call me old fashioned but I still believe that our friendship should be honoured. let us share a glass of wine for we have much to speak about."
Buonocore sighed and stretched his arms.
"The Corsair Brotherhood is one of the oldest institutions on planet Crete. No other institution has provided the Triumvirate with more Elders. Still, our role is limited. As the military arm of the Corsair empire we take great pride in our historic achievements. We have lived through great hardships and we have spilled a lot of blood not only for the empire, but also for those the empire considers friends. Our loyalty knows no bounds, neither does our vengeance. Dear guests, as we speak the kingdom of Bretonia is invading Gran Canaria threatening the lives of many of our people, and many of yours. If we wish to put a stop to this, we must act as one. This is why I summoned you here."
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He returned the bow to Buonocore and then started gazing around the estate. In many ways, it reminded him of his own. His eyes glassed over as he thought of it and how it was now all gone. Regret began to fill him for taking such and extreme action. Much of his life had been there and it was but a memory now. Before he returned his look to the Elder, he sniffled and wiped his eyes. Yes, the reality of it had finally sunk in.
"This place...." he paused as he took another look, "...it is well named. Miguel Sephardi and I go back a long way. When there were differences in Omega 49, we worked it out. He was my best man when I married my late wife."
A tear rolled down either cheek.
"I helped him settle the dispute at Freeport 9 long ago. With his work, Cretan settlers began living in peace on Canaria. They have been exemplary citizens. Now, I fear that Zoner, Corsair and other settlers will perish at the onslaught of Bretonia."
He paused a moment and looked at the Elder. "They call the Corsairs rapist. They call them murderers." He then looked at the dead Corsair lying on the floor before looking back to Buonocore. "I do not say those things. In the past, I have not agreed with many of Corsair methods and now I look at the Bretonian crown doing these things. As it is, my diplomacy with Bretonia has been poor. Their arrogance clouds their judgement. Freeport 1 and now this."
He then pulled out his datapad and with permission, linked it to a large screen. "Senor, I do think that you should see this." News feed
With that, Doc watched along with those in the room. The momentary silence was deafening. Doc just finished with a simple statement, "I delivered some of those children."
Once done, he turned off the feed and refilled his drink.
Flora boiled through Holliday's speech, then simply disregarding him and addressing their host directly.
- Such a kind gesture, senor Buoconore. There is nothing I enjoy more than a cretan corpse in the morning. - she hissed in response to his greeting, moving to the nearest chair. She did not take a seat, however, putting her hand on its backrest and sighing. - Let's get this straight right away. Are we going to talk like civilised adults, or am I to expect more idiotic accusations and stupid antics like this? - she asked, gesturing towards Perez' corpse. She then just dropped into the chair, her gaze focused on Buoconore.
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