"Any self-respecting corporation is required to have more than two ships, otherwise they are nothing more than hackers. There are no corporations in 745 that are based within the confines of a single planet, never leaving its atmosphere." Antonin answered calmly, noting the too long glances between the two, "Obsolete models, you say? Perhaps if your service to us is faithful and mutually beneficial, you can upgrade them to modern standards, perhaps even expand your fleet."
"Any science that moves our state and society forward has government support, so if what you are doing can positively impact Gallia - you get the support you need... however..." he paused, pondering whether to share the failure of the scientists at the Office of Advanced Research. After weighing the pros and cons, he continued: "How well do you know the ancient race of aliens that inhabited the Omicron sector? Daam K'Vash, if I'm not mistaken."
The man from Nevers considered and picked his words carefully. "The Daam K'Vosh." He corrected lightly. "A seemingly primordial race who played god at one point or another. Their vanishing a mystery to literally everyone, just their constructs and tools left discarded through the Sirian Sector as a child may forget their toys when called away. Yes, we know of the legends as well as any other xenologist. Perhaps more. Those in our field do not exactly... Share results with each other."
A touch of curiosity washed over his face. "I am surprised you are well learned in such topics. Though, perhaps, you were speaking more towards the species the Sirians dubbed 'Nomads'?"
"Had a chance to see them in person back under the Royal Regime and being Commandant of the Royal Navy," Lusignan replied evasively. Remembering La'Row's betrayal of the Duchess was unpleasant - back then he still believed that aristocracy was the only way to maintain order in Gallic society, but in time he became convinced that they would tear each other's throats out if there was no strong leader over them. "However, we do have an ancient relic, presumably of K'Vosh origin. As far as our scientists have understood, it's a data repository, but how to open it without damaging or causing the data to be deleted by a possible security system - we haven't been able to figure out. Do you think your organisation can handle it? If it can, consider that you have a place on one secret base in my subsector."
For the first time since arrival, the cowled figure made a noticeable movement. The hidden face bore into Lusignan at the sudden news. Indifference had confined the figure to a near statue-like state until now. The movement made Darche jump. Or was it also the news affecting him, too?
Darche scrambled for words. "What, here? In Gallia? That's not-..." He trailed off, cleared his throat before resuming in a more leveled tone. "You surely mean a captured or smuggled relic, yes? Brought here by one means or another. Yes, yes we can work on such a project. Might I ask it's exact location of origin? Where it was found?"
The tall robed person's gaze did not change. Its attention was now caught. Normally an aide would have pulled out a datapad and begun jotting down notes by now, even if momentarily stunned. Yet, like an automated turret it had trained and locked onto the noble with great intent.
"It is not known where it was found. It was presented as a gift," Lusignan replied, peering intently into the twilight beneath the attendant's hood, "Then you agree to take on the task of studying it?"
It was like a dry rasp. A tree's bare limb moving in the breeze that grew close enough the scratch along a window's glass. The voice came from the figure, yet it was strained as if spoken with great effort. As if it hadn't used its throat in a long time. There was, however, and odd amplified nature to the words. Though nothing more than a icy whisper the words came clear to all those in the room. As if it was stated in one's very mind in addition to the audible quality of it.
Darche started once more, not expecting the figure to speak. He was at a loss for words. Instead he focused on Lusignan again. He tried a weak smile, as if something had happened he did not intend. He waited for the reply, however it might come.
Lusignan's gaze flashed with recognition and triumph, which was quickly replaced by indifference, as if nothing had happened. He looked away from the figure at Omer, and continued in his low, slightly husky baritone: "You have until the end of the month to arrive on Planet Orleans. If you'd like to join me, I'm just about to fly back there - you can start work on our facility immediately."
Darche had time to collect himself. He cleared his throat again. "Do we have an an accord then? Will we be able to have our side of requests granted in full? Particularly the part of zero questions as to... What may need arrive at this facility of yours?"
The companion had turned its gaze away for now, as if it's interests were elsewhere.
"The facility is equipped with all the equipment that may be needed during research. I am not a scientist, so I cannot provide a detailed list," Lusignan smiled for the first time during the meeting, "If you can make more progress than our scientists, at least somehow advance us in the study of the artefact, and we have an agreement. It won't be possible to completely clear the station of personnel, but it is partially automated and the drones can be configured to delete logs about your visit, if that's so important - but again, first you will prove your usefulness to the Union, and to me in particular. No questions about that, I hope?"
The Nevers-born man pursed his lips. "No, no questions. We will need to bring our own equipment however. None of it is... Standard." He paused for a moment.
"I had mentioned we have four vessels of gallic naval origins, yet only listed three. Such is the need for a larger bay to house it. It is by no means a small ship, it is capital-class. It-... It contains most of our work. It is our work, in a way." He explained cautiously. "We'll be able to do most of what is asked of us within that vessel."
