Fontana Freeport; California System; Republic of Liberty
Fontana was a den of bootleggers, smugglers and illegal ship modders. Despite the bloody upheaval of its former master, time and circumstances had been favorable thus far. Being the self professed birthplace of the Claymore design, which itself is a Falchion with extra weight and a large gun strapped to the nose, it enjoyed lucrative business opportunities and kept its hidden agendas behind a well made curtain of fronts.
If you looked close enough, you might still see faint outlines of an orange star on some of the walls, even if somebody had hastily painted over them with emblems of their own creation. No doubt adding insult to injury for the people inbound to meet somebody substantially responsible for the eviction of its previous owners. And in truth, that was a reputation Damien genuinely cherished, simply for the fact he had done something he was told he did not have the means to bring about.
As such, he was here early and his honor guard was outside the doors of this small and impromptu conference room that the management provided free of charge, provided of course that this didn't take much more than an hour. Evidently the Alliance Commander had a fair bit of sway here, if the guards with loaded weapons wasn't enough of an indicator. Patiently waiting for this Captain who had requested a talk in the first place, something about Morreti's body language and posture when seated was all too similar to those people considered part of Liberty's high society, perhaps among the upper echelons of even those unfairly privileged few.
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Deep withing Sierra Ice field, an Interdictor-class battlecruiser decloaked for only a short moment. While it could be easily mistaken as local naval vessel at first glance, closer inspection told a different story - it had damaged and rusting hull on several places and visibly mismatched equipment and weapons meant that there were some less than usual attempts in order to keep it space and combat worthy.
Battlecruiser opened its belly hangar and launched Grizzly shuttle before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. While its cloaking capabilities were far from perfect, it was deemed good enough for this ice field.
Shuttle made quick approach towards Fontana Freeport and docked as soon as it received green docking clearance.
Virginia left the shuttle dressed in her longcoat with brown turtleneck underneath and black pants with heavy, clearly military-like boots. Her above-average height and proud body posture gave her somewhat imposing and commanding presence, a posture carefully and dutifully learned when she served as officer in Hellfire Legion. Two men following her were dressed very similarly, although they preferred leather jackets instead of coats - and like Virginia, none of them had any visible rank insignias on them. For all intents and purposes, they were 'civilians' now.
Virginia eventually found her bearings and arrived at the door to the small improvised conference room, followed by her most trusted pilot and bodyguard. She casually gestured at her men to wait outside and was genuinely surprised when Damien's honor guards not just haven't checked her for weapons, but also saluted and opened door as she approached.
"Greeting, Mr. Morreti.", she greeted Damien formally as he entered small conference room and immediately, almost like an instinct, reached into her coat's pockets for small metal lighter amd cigarette case, "I am Captain Virginia Belle, in person.".
The fact she was going to smoke evoked a shallow frown for a fraction of a second before he just accepted that it would be the case. Rather than criticism for her choices in habits, he defaulted to politeness and something that vaguely resembled respect, proving a little too difficult to read. "Surprising, I was expecting a body double." It was obviously a joke to decrease the formality she seemed to lead with. "Please, just Morreti's enough." Having clarified this, he gestured for her to sit after having stood up himself and exchanging a handshake.
"What's on your mind, Belle?" This was obviously going to be his first question, but absolute directness might have still been quite surprising given the extremely mixed reputation he'd garnered over the years. A champion of the poor and a dreaded demagogue one and the same. Though in contrast to her choice of outfit, he'd remained in uniform, garbed in a flight suit of rugged making, mostly grey and beige in appearance besides the white and red star burned into either shoulder, it practically took the eyes captive.
The pristine manners and pleasant face only deterred the senses from picking up on the fact that she was being observed minutely, her every word subject to scrutiny.
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"Very well, Morreti.", she nodded at him and removed her long coat and put it over chair's backrest in order to sit more comfortably. Now, without her long, her brown turleneck had thicker patches on her shoulders, a place where any rank insignias could be pinned to if she decided to do so. A clearly function over fashion. She also had holstered and secured sidearm at her left side.
She opened her cigarette case as she sat down and lit one of her vanilla scented cigarettes. As with position of her holster, a fact that she lit and was holding her cigarette in her left hand were clear signs of her left handeness.
She draw from her cigarette and to calm her nerves, because as polite as Damien Morreti was so far, they are still adversaries and even despite her rash and hotblooded nature - she was nervous in presence of such infamous man as he is. Of course she was trying to read his true nature through his facial expression, but so far, no luck.
"Body double? That could mean double the trouble for my superiors.", she smirked a little and continued, "Straight to the point, then I'll go as well - you might be alone when you are in your space ship, but I'm not and some matters are better to discuss old fashioned way - in person. I don't trust you, at least not yet - but given the situation around Liberty - I'm willing to listen and see.".
There was potential for this admission of a lack of trust to be seen as insulting, but in his case it prompted him to smile and loosen up a little. "It's good you don't trust me, it means you're smart and aware of the stakes." Quietly, he was grateful for the fact that her choice of lung cancer didn't involve the choking stench of straight smoke and carried something in the way of a scent. He was still taking in second hand smoke, which was arguably worse, but life expectancies of people serving the LFR were paltry regardless.
"Quite the risk meeting me in person, especially with how ironic the venue is. But it's a risk you took anyway, and that tells me things are worse than bad. Let's also not forget that you called me, I'm here to hear you out and respond honestly. I'm not going to sell you on a cause, I'm not a politician. I said I wanted to help you and I meant it, how that happens will be only as complicated as you choose to make it." It was a semi-stern reminder of the perspective this conversation was meant to operate with, he might have been pretending convincingly, but he didn't seem intimidated by her at all. He seemed to feel entirely in control of his space, confident but not cocky, and utterly assured of himself. But while that was merely grains in the current of words currently running on tap, there was a semblance of something that sounded like sincerity born from personal interest.
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"Yes, we are still foes after all.", she took a draw from her cigarette again and exhalled cloud of aromatic smoke again, "You know... few months ago, an idea of thinking about something like this wasn't just near impossible, but I'd also find it outright disgusting back then.".
She studied his expression, posture and body language for a while as she was trying to figure out more about the man who was talking with her. A short glint in her eyes and slight triumphant smile on her face could tell that she figured something out.
"I heard words about your free society, but I'd like to know more about it, maybe even see it in the near future. It's just...", she paused for a moment as she tried to search better words, "... I might going to do tough decision - a decision, which might ruin or even end lives of hundreds of people I knew and fought alongside them. Even I might die because of it, so... I want to be sure that it wasn't for another Veracruz.". Virginia's voice was not sad or overly emotional, but there was something grim in her otherwise deep and strong voice. "I'm something more now than disgrunted youth I was when I signed myself to the Commonwealth's promise.", she added after few moments, looking at her half finished cigarette before turning her attention back to Damien.
For the first time since they first exchanged words, something she'd chosen to say resonated with him. And it happened to be her last sentence, added in after a glance at that accursed death stick, a mixture of good and bad no doubt. "That's the whole point of this war, you can encapsulate the last few centuries of fighting with just that footnote. Every rebellion's born out of hurt feelings and disillusionment, the ones that stay this way die. To succeed in any effort requires maturity, and there's nothing mature about ramming your head against the adamantine walls of the system." Evidently he was going somewhere with this, because he took a moment to reposition himself and relax, dropping the somewhat acrid and firm facade for the sake of being able to better communicate what was on his mind.
"We want to be more than just rebels, just like you grew up after pulling yourself out of the muck, so are we. There's not much I can tell you about the LFR, because it's all laid bare like somebody who wears their heart on a sleeve." Reaching for his shoulder, he pulled at one of the stars for a moment, the sound of velcro relenting against this sudden force punctuated the emblem he placed on the table in front of her. "The Liberty Free Republic isn't a State like what you signed up for. There's no promises of things being better or ideal. We don't even offer anything substantial, just the fact that determination rests with you, which is where it belongs. It's a hard reset, a blank slate for people to individually determine the kind of lives they actually want. Free from any single House's specific political leanings. It's a platform, one your people have died for since time immemorial. And while it might be born from dissent, the violent kind, it'll eventually be a Home to people like us - who want to be left alone." While he was otherwise fairly restrained in how he spoke, everything he'd just said was delivered with conviction, it was an uncensored gateway into his perspective if somebody wanted to actually look.
"Believe me, there's a a huge difference between the LFR and the Commonwealth, besides the fact that I'm older than the latter. Radically different backgrounds, extremely mixed political views under one roof and an absolute disdain for Governmental control and power, the exact things that make more worlds like Houston and Veracruz. I can't say with certainty that it'll be what you're looking for. But I can tell you that the ashes of a dead system you're currently serving isn't worth dying for. Especially not when their goal is supremacy over others, something your own Commanding Officer seems to fully believe in." As he grew closer to the end of that sentence, it sounded less like he was simply showcasing thoughts with passion, but rather pleading. As if he saw where these roads went and only hoped he could offer an alternative, unwilling to nudge or force, perhaps from a place of principle.
"I've said more than I wanted to, honestly. One way or another, you're going to have regrets. I just want you to make a choice, with no command structure or Government in the way. The only guiding factor being facts and what's best for you and your people." For a second, he flashed a smile, it was sincere based on the wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, but it was more apologetic rather than anything rooted in optimism. Nothing about any of this would be easy, and she deserved to know that much, regardless of what she chose to do.
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"I don't really care about command or government right now, but they still have me on their hooks. Me and my men.", she drew from her cigarette for the last time and tapped it off case's open lid and left remaining cigarette butt in it, "Our training, education, care... we are assets in which they invested a lot and want to be sure that we will do what we must. That's why soldiers can't just leave in middle of war because they don't like it, especially when there are hundreds of them and have quite expensive piece of kit.".
Virginia finally stopped smoking, at least for this moment. Her expression was more relaxed since they start talking, especially when Damien shown some emotions behind his words. She expected this whole encounter to be a lot more difficult, maybe even some serious threats. One could even forget for a moment, that both of them have bloodied hands.
She picked up Liberty Free Republic emblem in front of and examined it between her fingers, "It looks like a laugh in the face of our dear and only Republic, isn't it? Can't say that I don't like it. A bit more refined than those flaming skulls I was used to, I'll give you that.".
"But, what should I tell those of my men, who will be willing to make the same decision as me?", she raised her eyes from the emblem in her left hand and looked at him, "What they can expect? We caused you some causalities over the time, after all, and you did the same.".
Without hesitation and without breaking eye contact, he responded with what seemed like unshakeable certainty. "Tell them the truth. That it's going to be a long and hard road, and there might always be resentment under the surface for what we've done to each other. But as long as they're willing to try, that means something to us, and we take care of our own." Regardless of the fact that one of his shoulders was now missing a patch, he made no move to recover the star he'd given her, evidently intending for it to be kept as a token of this meeting.
Without anything further to say, he simply looked at her, expecting that she would either try making a choice now or have something else to talk about.
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"We already felt resentment from and towards our Separatist peers because of our ideological differences, so I guess we can cope with that if it'd be just that. I was more worried about some prosecution and 'justice' made on me or my men.", she said while she without breaking away from his eyes.
She studied his expression again for while as Damien waited for her decision. Slight, miniscule movements of her eyes meant that she examined some fine details on his face. "I believe that you want a clear and definitive answer from me, isn't it?", she said after a while, "I'm mostly convinced by your ideas, although that probably isn't surprising if my other options is to waste my life in Vespucci, run away to other House or surrender myself now and spend rest of my days at Sugarland or wherever captured legionaries slave their lives away.".
She slided emblem back to him, "That's an idea, a hope for a future that might or might not come, but still better than grim certainity of nothing.".