Somewhere in the Georgian Ice Field -- Ontario System
Fort Ramsey was many things, but it was certainly not Ouray. Hewn out of a rock so large it straddled the boundary between asteroid and planetoid, the cavernous expanse of the Fort's corridors seemed to go on forever. Some part of Siobhan had grown tense even on the approach, despite the reassuring sight of green transponder codes flicking all across her Roc's patchy display. The last time she'd been up this rather quiet part of Liberty, the local installation had been named Dryden -- an unassuming little affair perhaps a quarter of the size at best. The Ramsey project had filled her more with skepticism than hope, but now that she was truly in the thing's shadow she could finally see for herself how misplaced that cynicism had been.
Her Roc sputtered its way forwards, rolling lazily past a stray asteroid to dip beneath the Liberty Rose herself -- the silent sentinel of Ontario, and a growing symbol of the renewed Alliance's strength. She couldn't help but notice that its point-defence turrets tracked her all the way towards the docking bay's mouth; despite her transponder and pre-existing credentials, she was not a regular here. Not yet.
Carefully, she guided her pride and joy over to the assigned landing pad, feathering the throttle with utmost care. The CTE series was renowned for its ruggedness and reliability, but her Roc had been far from new when she'd first managed to get her hand on it, and six years of dispensing antimatter from that point on had only tested the patchwork ship's ability to hold itself together. Siobhan hadn't been let down by her yet, though, and as the dull brown bomber groaned a to a shuddering halt atop the gravity cushion that would hold it in place, she allowed the central console a gentle pat of appreciation.
"Good girl," she muttered, casting her gaze out through the cockpit glass to take in the sights beyond. The place looked like a maze -- a sprawl of buildings strewn around the place in an internal cityscape of the Xenos' very own making. It might have been intimidating if she were a decade or so younger, but now looking at the haphazard network of makeshift buildings and dull grey iron only served to fill her with a twinge of regret. She'd missed a lot during her time on Milford, it seemed.
With a shake of her head and a final grunt of irritation, Siobhan heaved herself out of her flight seat in earnest, popping the ship's canopy and moving to climb out. Cobra should be expecting her, they'd hashed out that much already, and it wasn't hard to see where she might find him. The inverted broken star -- the symbol of this latest Alliance renaissance -- dominated the tallest building's frontal facade. All around her, the oppressive atmosphere of Ramsey closed in from every direction; the acrid, choking tang of a cityscape thronging with activity; the sweltering heat engendered by so much machinery and so many hot engines in such a confined space; the unpainted, thoroughly utilitarian design that eschewed any concept of intentional aesthetics for uncompromising practicality.
"Hail, Luminary." The voice that came from just behind caught her by surprise, and she turned to find a sullen-looking deck technician with his head slightly inclined. His gaze straddled the line between respectfulness and mistrust, caught somewhere between his recognition of her and a natural, almost hostile curiosity. On one hand, Cobra had seen fit to welcome her back with seemingly open arms -- on the other, who was she to return and walk back into a nascent Free Republic others had built on her behalf? Eyeing the man was doing nothing to ease her growing sense of unease, and even guilt.
I should have been here.
"Evening," she replied carefully. "I'd be thankful if'n you could get her refuelled for me. Took the long way round ta get here."
The man nodded in response before turning away without a word. She'd always preferred to do her own maintenance, but on a larger spaceport like this she'd anticipated having to leave it to someone else. It was never that easy for her.
She let out a final sigh before turning on her heel, her hand slipping off the hull of the Roc as she left it behind once more, making her way across the makeshift spaceport towards the broken-starred building some way off. What Cobra had in store for her, she had no real idea, but that did nothing to temper her desire to find out.
Morreti was very much the sort of man who could have pandered to any depraved depths of vanity he desired. But what was perhaps most alarming was the fact that he didn't. Not an ounce of credit for any of the progress made, not a single flattering poster where his face could have covered buildings, and perhaps most curious were the number of people that hadn't heard of his real name let alone looked him in the eyes. For a man of his position, he worked quietly, leading from the front in utter isolation from the allure of self importance. A bit of an anarchist. And that notion quantified volumes about who he was as a person.
As an elected official, Morreti occupied an office reserved for his station. It was a well circulated rumor that he rarely graced it and seemed more of an opponent to such boring concepts. But at least for when Siobhan had come back into the fold, he was in his chair already waiting.
He was too clean, too smooth, well groomed and well dressed to be the image of what people thought when they heard the word Xeno. All of this was immediately apparent from first glances. Rising to his feet the moment he'd heard the door. He came to her and didn't expect to be approached. Intending to treat the formerly absent Luminary like an equal. "Siobhan. I really hope I'm saying that correctly. I've been looking forward to meeting you." His bright blue eyes looked over her face almost appraisingly. Had he expected her to be taller? Possibly. Still, the undeniable sharpness that good genes had blessed him with in terms of features seemed to be at odds with a remarkable aura of amorality. His words soon followed up by an outstretched hand, the offer of a respectful handshake.
Somehow, the Morreti Siobhan had just walked in on wasn't quite what she'd expected. Piercing blue eyes, neat clothing from head to toe, and a certain delicateness to his overall appearance lent him more the appearance of a studious librarian, in her opinion, than the venomous tip of the Alliance's spear. He rose from his chair before she was even in the door, disarming her a little by coming to her with a hand already outstretched. It was only natural to take it in her own, her gloved hand accepting the gesture of solidarity just as freely.
"Pronunciation ain't bad, and I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't feel the same," she replied. Her eyes, grey like flint, took in her counterpart's appearance with a certain evenness, weighing up her initial expectations and preconceptions against the well-dressed figure of the Alliance's new Commander.
He was tall, with at least a few inches on her, but she'd known that before coming here. He was younger than she'd expected, though -- older than he'd looked at first glance on the video feed, for it was a lot harder to disguise the lines to his face up close -- but still young. It made her feel very old in comparison. The whole affair did -- Ramsey was a veritable megacity compared to the cramped confines of Milford. The future was here, and it was up to her to keep up with it.
In contrast to Morreti himself, Siobhan cut a more traditional picture of what the word 'Xeno' might have conjured. Long, somewhat straggly brown hair; cold eyes; and hands that always seemed uneasy to be left without a purpose. Her left hung by her side; gleaming, metallic, and ungloved.
"Gotta say," she began, breaking eye contact to indicate the window opposite with her gaze, "the Fort's nothin' short of exceptional. Fair step up from Dryden."
There was a short pause as she made to segue onwards, continuing before he had any opportunity to interrupt.
"Lookin' at what you've managed ta build here -- rebuild, even, if'n we take the Alliance as a whole -- well, it's a hell of a first impression." The ghost of a smile played at the corners of her mouth, but it didn't quite materialise. "Good t' see everything passed on from Pennsylvania wasn't bein' pissed up the wall."
When their palms intermingled in a gesture of mutual solidarity, she'd find that he brought up a second hand to gently hold her wrist as they shook. Usually such a gesture was quite an honor, a sign that the person whose hand you were shaking didn't quite want you to stop or let go too quickly. But with him such a notion felt less definitive and more open to potentially worrying interpretation.
He waited patiently, even as she carried on and trailed off. From the start of this meeting he had done things which caught Siobhan off guard, he was by no means finished with this nuance. "I like your eyes, they beckon for a spark and make me curious about how they'd look when lit up by a fire either from within or without." If he was trying to imply something by going so off topic and getting poetic, it wasn't clear. He was a hard man to read, but easy to understand. Still, he had more to say. "Unfortunately Milford's efforts did almost go to waste. The Alliance, well, the movement as a whole was on the brink of dissolution. I knew that had to change when I was elected. The challenge that presented kept things interesting. I'm glad you came back just in time for me to give you the honor of declaring our intentions to the Insurgency." In contrast, he didn't restrain the smile which cracked its way into existence on his face, more of a smirk really, but a sign of emotion nonetheless. Though he didn't want to sour their conversation with brutal honesty, he wasn't inclined to deceive her on the bigger picture that she'd missed out on during her isolation. Her reasons for coming back were unclear, and at least for now that made her interesting.
Morreti's overall demeanour was still a little disconcerting, from the way he shook her hand at length to the way he immediately went to the topic of her eyes. Still, intentionally or not, the mention of the Insurgency offered Siobhan a natural way out -- one that she barely even consciously took. Her eyes narrowed almost immediately at the mention of it, her grip loosening as she extricated herself from the man's grip.
"Insurgency," she spat, venom etched into every syllable. "Stupid fuckin' name, for one. Legion played us like a fiddle for years. It were never my choice ta co-operate with 'em at all, an' I'll be the first to say composin' an' sendin' off that comm was the best feelin' I'd had in a long time."
A smile of her own cracked through her facade at that, vindictive joy blossoming on her tired-looking features. The expression she wore spoke volumes of her experiences -- months and years of bitterness at the would-be Commonwealth now finally free to release itself in the form of one scathing comm and a barrage of white-hot antimatter.
"I'm glad ta have had the opportunity myself, too. Impactful way ta break back onto the scene, as it were, wouldn't you say?"
The withdrawal of her hand wasn't something he opposed when it occurred, exhibiting no directly malicious intentions, it was possible he was just excited to meet somebody who appealed to him the same way the Alliance did upon discovery. "I agree, both with what you said about the view and the Insurgency. I'd like to think that I'm keeping with tradition by having you ridicule them, even now, after all this time." He took a moment to pause and think, looking her over before retreating to his desk and casually resting against it. Evidently he'd opted to make himself more comfortable and respect a perceived notion that she needed some space.
"If you don't mind me asking, what brought you back to us? I'm glad to have you, but I'm still curious." It was a question he wanted to ask when he was first made aware of her intentions. In his time here, Morreti had come to know the Xenos as being aggressively committed to the cause. For her conviction to have been rattled so badly to prompt years of absence, it must have been something drastic. It was something he was very much compelled to get to the bottom of, among other things, but he was in no rush.
Her metallic hand twitched by her side at the question. A tic of sorts, perhaps.
"Couldn't do Milford no more," she said simply, still standing by the window. She was turned away from Morreti, and didn't bother to turn back to face him once more, leaning against the frame with her right arm.
"I never asked t' become actin' Commander of th' Alliance when I did. This were always meant ta be someone else's job -- Herald had a knack fer leadin' that I've never had. Don't have th' same gift he had; none of th' patience, none of th' diplomatic acumen. Lose my damn temper too quickly."
Siobhan's voice was low and husky, her tone flat and barely above a whisper. The brief smile from earlier had died a quick and merciful death, replaced by a pensive demeanour.
"Woulda run the place into the ground, or at least it feels that way, if'n I'd tried ta keep steerin' on my own. Stracke dropped off th' radar, an' so did near everyone else. It was time fer me to step outta the picture as well -- let some other cell take a forefront ta spearhead our cause."
She paused for a brief moment, turning slightly from her city-gazing to regard Morreti sidelong -- the successor to the Alliance's proud history, its newest figurehead. He was far quieter, more calculated, than his predecessors had been. Herald, in particular, had been a man of few complications and even fewer periods of silence. The cobra, by contrast, appeared more patient, but she knew as well as anyone that volume was not a contributing factor to one's level of threat.
"Can't say I expected t' see the Alliance rise again. The Xenos as a whole, yeah, but I didn't expect ta have any part in it. Figured coordinatin' logistics was as good a way as any to contribute, but hell if I had the strength to prop the place up myself."
Her eyes met his in earnest now, grey flint locking against blue ice.
"I kin say honestly I'm glad someone kept th' flame burning, at th' very least. Not sure what hole you dug Stracke in particular out of, either, but apparently there's somethin' about you that can kindle embers back ta an up-an'-comin' inferno."
The woman's expression was almost unreadable, a mixture of emotions warring on her features. Jealousy? Regret? Bitterness? Or was she simply sizing him up amidst all of those at once? It was hard to tell. The woman wore her emotions on her sleeve when it counted, but she had learned the value of keeping them in check until that breaking point was reached.
Like a tree in the wind, he allowed his mind to bend with the weight of her words. He let himself feel the sense of accomplishment, he let himself feel everything and then he let it go. If he had a hubris then he was clearly capable of restraining it, if he had a vice it was certainly murder, but what was never clear - - was why? Everyone had motivations and if his wasn't inane self gratification then it left a question unanswered. Where her face produced an ocean of emotion, he just saw doubt. "It wouldn't be fair of me to have brought you all the way here to interrogate you. You answered my question, now it's my turn to do the same for you." For once he hoped somebody would have the grit and spine to question his purpose here. She seemed the sort, but seemingly needed encouragement.
"Go on, speak your mind and ask. I'll answer." His posture visibly slackened as he pushed himself upright and joined his visitor near the glass, shoulder to shoulder this time rather than facing her. The dull gray and occasional crimson star reflected in his eyes as he peered out, as if to take in something he'd never truly been able to see before.
Siobhan's gaze slipped from Morreti once more, joining his in staring out onto the cityscape below. In the grand scheme of things, the scale of Ramsey was still rather small, but for the Xeno movement it represented an unprecedented hub of industrial activity.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her eyes tracing over the mass of people at work below. "I don't know you -- never known anyone like you -- and I ain't got a clue exactly how an' why you wound up tied so intrinsic'lly to our cause."
The measure of caution to her bearing was slowly slipping, syllable by syllable. She had started this meeting with deliberately guarded intent, but every snake with enough sense knew when the time for a slow, safe approach had slipped away.
"'Cause let me be clear, I'm gonna bet you know a hell of a lot more about me an' mine than what anyone has to say about you." Siobhan rounded on him then, the tension in her frame more evident than ever. "I ain't denyin' what you've accomplished out there -- anyone kin see that -- but what I ain't seein' or hearin' from someone is the motivation behind it."
She paused then, intent on giving the cobra a chance to reply -- her reaction making it clearer than ever that she expected a certain weight to the answer.
Siobhan would find herself left with deafening silence for the minute or so Morreti took to breathe in deeply, before finally facing her again. It didn't seem as if he'd used the time to scheme up an answer, it was more like he needed to look at something for a little longer so that he had an adequate reminder for himself. "I'm sure it was unnerving when I immediately brought up my thoughts on your eyes. But it was hardly a case of idle flirtation. Nobody's really asked before, I'm not sure why that is, but I've always been willing to answer." Pausing as if for a breath, he just smiled and focused on the two orbs of flint again.
"When I first saw the Alliance it had nothing, maybe less. No ships, no money, no connections. Worthless. But I'd never seen people so willing and ready to throw themselves at danger the way they did. The fact they had nothing, it gave them everything. People are so content to underestimate all of you, I think they're just afraid of potential. And rightfully so."
Another span of silence consumed the room as his face sharpened into seriousness, the smile fading. He wasn't done yet and didn't offer a potential for interjection, there was still so much more to be said.
"I didn't have a reason to be here. I found one. In that way, your call sign is fitting. Diamond in the rough. Where people saw rejects, I saw soldiers. Where people saw ashes, I saw fire. And I knew down to my bones the only thing I needed to do anymore was stoke it. That's why I like your eyes so much. Reminds me of the moment I made that decision. To take what everyone else threw away and turn it into a monument of how wrong they were."
The more he spoke, the more genuinely passionate he sounded. All the qualities of somebody who could give rousing speeches. The uncanny art of sweeping everyone up in what he felt, captivating the presence of a room, that certainly explained how he'd got here.
"You don't need to look any further than yourself for the answer to that, Siobhan. You're the personification of all the reasons why. And maybe if you trusted me I could stoke the fire in you that you've let time and doubt extinguish."
He was finished talking for the moment, towards the end his tone had softened and become more personal when addressing her directly. A demagogue in the making, that's what he truly was even if it couldn't be seen yet. But it was equally undeniable that he meant everything he said. Whether or not she chose to believe it was up to her now. Freedom was the cause, freedom was hers in the moment.