Defeat and retreat are the same meaning for Zakaryan, despite decent experience and knowledge of tactics and strategy - he understood their fleet, even combined with the Auxo's forces, could not win, dragged between the Liberty Navy with Crayter that assisted them, and the Nomads, appeared from nowhere. Yet, despite saving lives of his crew and leaving with a little damage suffered by the Thunderbird, he was dissatisfied with the outcome.
Now, aboard the little shuttle that was crossing the Californian star system he could not hide his bad mood and low enthusiasm regarding the goals of the Insurgency. While going for a meeting with a mysterious person hiding under the alias and pretending to be a maniac enjoying to kill, Zakaryan felt a little frustration about future he believed in. Future, that may not ever come.
The shuttle's navigation computer beeped, notifying about entering asteroid field, and automatics proceeded to correct the course, avoiding rocks and debris that lonely floated here and there. Soon enough, Zakaryan's unremarkable "Dromedary" freighter reached - Freeport Fontana. As a personal ship, the shuttle had transmitted no Insurgency affiliation and could freely land, where their appearance was unwelcome.
Just a few minutes later, another beep notified that commands made by computers of both station-recipient and ship-sender and the latter was clear to proceed to a free landing bay. Now, the question is, where to look for Cobra?
There didn't seem to be a need to look at all, sitting in the middle of the hangar was a distinct ship that was practically draped in old and new battle damage. At the same time this Rebel in particular was painted a matte silver but adorned with glossy crimson and white stripes. The broad, angular and inelegant wings sported a crest of a hooded snake and something else less than recognizable to strangers. "This isn't a social call, and I have a schedule so tight it may as well be a noose. So here's the terms." The person speaking was comfortably seated on the wing of their fighter, wearing a plain red flight suit with an accompanying helmet, evidently they didn't feel the need to rid themselves of it since this was intended to be quick. "You have five minutes, I'll answer any questions you can manage to squeeze into that timeframe. When the clock strikes, this discussion ends and we go back to the same old ordeal." It was a decisive timetable, even if a short one relatively speaking. But it was significantly more dialogue than what had otherwise occurred between ringleaders on either side. Judging by the tone however, this was for posterity sake rather than a diplomatic outreach. By now the contempt for everything under the Insurgency's banner was practically cemented.
The man, dressed in a flight costume with a coloring that could be barely recognized and an helmet attached on his belt, from a first glance could appear to be a junker. Nevertheless, his bushy beard and hair were clean and but a few almost invisible scars cross his face near dark eyebrows.
"Hail, Cobra. Good to see a person that is not willing to waste time." said Zakaryan, coming closer to the man hiding his name under alias Cobra and head under the helmet. The fighter Cobra was sitting at looked elegant enough and had many traditional traits of Liberty shipbuilding, both military and civil. "Although, I would prefer lesser pompousness. Name's Stepan, Stepan Zakaryan, even if already introduced."
"I will be short with you, Cobra." he said with a light smile, "You know, I told already that I am but a soldier, far from politics and serving the people I sworn to protect: population of Veracruz, former Guadalajara. So say me, why the future we want to see, each on their own image, is seems so impossible to be reached for me now?"
Clearly everything that was said had been listened to, and by the time the question was finished Cobra shook his head as if both considering the facts that formed an answer and some degree of contempt for the question. "Lots of reasons, a few more important than the rest. The biggest reason being that your organization's founding was based on a promise. To be better and different than what Liberty had become. The problem there is that everything your leaders have done has made your cause more like its opponent rather than distinct."
He raised his left hand and as he lifted the reasons, a finger would spring forth to enumerate until all of them were extended, at which point he'd grow silent in anticipation of the next question. "Cooperating with freaks and thugs; Cooperating with corporations in bed with the LPI or just as bad; Adopting an authoritarian style of governance; Opening the gates to foreign influence; Sidelining our fight for your glory. Just under four minutes left by the way." It was a small reminder to be quick if there was something important to be asked and valuable insight to be gleaned from the answers given.
"Every change begins with the promise of change." Stepan calmly replied, looking into the visor of Cobra's helmet. "I agree, though. We've become what we've been fighting against, and an outsider observer might not understand why we keep firing at each other."
"I can't deny cooperation," he moved on to the next one, without, however, twiddling his thumbs, recounting the sins. "But I believe their assimilation is possible. Expanding our culture, our technological base, the tactics and strategies used by our troops - we can absorb and make it part of our doctrine, accelerating the growth of the organization. Whether this will be successful I won't claim, but I won't deny it either."
"Still, we are going down the wrong path, allowing an alien culture to make changes that we are incapable of controlling." Zakaryan finished, addressing himself rather than Cobra. "Three minutes to go."
"What you and I have in common is that we both believe our paths are right, and most likely both doubt that they are truly right." the man said with a smile through his beard, "But still, I believe in the superiority of our house over others, and our right to rule this whole sector. Do you? Or is all you do is change in the Republic itself?"
Again, he shook his head, having an immediate response to that because it was a reality both he and the cause were intimately familiar with. "No saving Liberty from what it is now, a mangled mess with centuries of mistakes behind it. Only real way forward is a clean slate, determined by the people who have been denied the underrated luxury of determination." It didn't sound like he had any faith in Liberty anymore, but instead a firm belief in something new that hadn't been properly explained yet. "Rule over everyone else? Why bother? Spent a few hundred years telling them to get out so we never have to look at them anymore, not to lord over them. This isn't a conquest, it's a war of independence." The notion of supremacy and authority didn't seem to go over well, and at least without any further elaborations, suggested Cobra was something of an anarchist so far as political ideals went.