- Javier, thinking to himself-
If history has shown me something, is that humans are good in doing something, war. We corsairs are warriors, born in the harsh planet of Crete, we trained to be brutal in our attacks, clever in our pillages and to develop an armada so big no other power in the Omicrons could face us. No other force, but the Outcasts, who for generations we fought in a bloody and unstoppable confrontation, this is not what I want for my sons.
After this war, when dust just settled down, and the fog of war starts to vanish, we do not see the sun, we see molten ships, floating corpses and wrecks still in fire. Theta system used to be a network of traffic for the most adventurous ones, now is a graveyard for thousands of souls who will rest here eternally. Yes, the corsair Imperio finally won, that station barely managed to survive in a piece and our fleets to fight another day, but the casualties to be paid for are too high.
It is time to end this and rebuild from the ashes of the destruction....
- Watching through the window, there is Javier, with the legs crossed, sitting with his 3 crew members in a fast shuttle in the final approach to "Medical Force Academy".-
-Sights-
[color=#ad0514]I wish this goes well, too many lives are pending from a string... This destruction, is that our curse? do we have to suffer eternally watching our sons march and die?
- A secretary, in front of him, answers - Señor, Javier, they forced our hand here, we wanted to solve this peacefully, we gave them a chance, and they responded with fire. This are the consequences of the violence, and not the intelligence.
- Javier, sad, shurgs and looks at the secretary - I served so long in the Imperial armada, I watched how my hermanos and amigos died, I have my hands full of our most hated enemigos blood, I know what violence is, This could could ended in another way.
- A relaxed "ding" sounds trough the shuttle, the pilot, from the cockpit starts speaking - ladies and gentleman, we are docking at the MFE Academy, please be sit for final approach and docking procedure, the station acknowledges our IFF transponder and gave us green light, they are already waiting for us with a security team.
- The shuttle, arrives and realizes the docking procedure, following, the full ship stops and the doors open, at the dock, there are several security guards and the docking master, Javier, steps outside with his team behind. The security team, tells them to depose all weapons in the shuttle -
- Security guard official, serious - Hello, welcome aboard the Academy, for security reasons, I will need to politely ask you to depose all the weapons you might have and also to conduct a small check up for hidden ones. This means no offensive intentions but is for yours and ours security, all personal will go trough the same checkup.
- Javier and his team, following the officer's advice follow him to the check up dropping the suitcases and a mobile drone-box for x-ray analysis - Thats a good advice, and we see how clean, ordered and safe all looks like, but we came here un-armed señor, this is a peace negotiation, weapons here have no reason to be.
- The official, checking all is correct guides them in the station to the rest area at the side of the conference room - I know, but after what happened recently, security must be top notch. My name is Barny, i will guide you to the rest room where our organizer, miss Jill Xi, will take you to the accommodations and meeting room. I will return to my post and wait for the rest of the guests to come.
- The guard, shakes Javier's hand and salutes, then he moves away. Meanwhile Javier's crew and himself sits at the comfortable sofas in the relax area, unfolding some personal tablets and starting to talk about the meeting -
NCC Horizon yacht - Omicron Theta, near MFE General Academy.
Magister Yuri Orlov
Yuri Orlov was deep in thought, sitting on a comfortable sofa in the private area of the Democritus-class yacht Horizon, as it crossed the void of Omicron Theta towards the General Academy. The Magister stared blankly at a fixed point in space on the other side of the reinforced window through which he was looking. He was mentally reviewing the latest events that had happened over the past few months in the system: The takeover of Freeport 9 by the Corsairs, the kidnapping of its population, the attempts by relevant people on the Zoner side to try to negotiate with the Cretans, the absolute failure of any type of dialogue, and then, total war.
Deep down inside, he felt a deep, dull anger toward the Corsairs. When he had to meet the representatives of the Empire, he would restrain himself, and even smile if necessary, after all he was a professional diplomat and he had been for decades, but that wouldn't mean he was going to forget the acts the Corsairs had perpetrated on Theta. He could actually understand the reasons why the Empire had decided to take over the Freeport, that had been a geo-strategical move, more to attack their classic enemies, the Outcast and the Core, than to antagonize the Zoners. But Orlov couldn't understand why they had decided to do it in such an unnecessarily violent way. If they wanted there to be no conflict, the worst thing they could have done was attack and massacre zoners, and harass the population of Theta by committing acts of piracy. That was strategic nonsense. Zoners were generally peaceful people, and tended to avoid confrontation, but like any human, if pushed to the limit they would respond with force.
Yuri looked around. Only he, the ship's crew, and Sergeant Baxter of the Pontifical Guard were traveling on the yacht. The sergeant, who was sitting silently in an armchair in front of the sofa, would be introduced to the MFE security team as Orlov's "personal assistant", since he had been assured that he could carry one. However, the Magister had no doubt that anyone who looked at him would know that he was actually his bodyguard. It was quite obvious, his physical appearance was not that of a clerk. With an age of approximately 35 years, he stood about 190 centimeters tall, and weighed near 135 kilograms of pure muscle and fiber. A fairly deep, though old, scar scratched the right cheek of his face, framed by blonde hair cut militarily
Baxter consulted at his portable communications device. "Your Eminence, we're about 10 minutes from the General Academy, you should prepare yourself. The bridge has already contacted traffic control."
Orlov looked out the window again, trying to see the structure of the MFE and made an impatient gesture with his hand. "I'm very prepared, Sergeant, I just want to get there at once and see for myself if the damn Corsairs have summoned us all to kill us and finish the job, or if they really want to talk about something. This way we can know what to expect, for once since this whole disaster started."
Baxter opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, and closed it again. The clergyman watched him from the corner of his eye, secretly amused at how afraid the sergeant was to speak openly. The Magister knew that most people who knew him closely were somewhat afraid of him, due to the amount of power he accumulated and the trust that the Pontiff habitually placed in him. He was clearly his preferiti. Orlov shared the rank of Magister with Julio Barbarrosa, Minister of the Interior, but only Yuri was called, in whispers, the Shadow Pontiff.
Despite this, Baxter's sense of duty was too strong in him and with an effort he turned to the clergyman again. "Your Eminence, I agree with you that the Corsairs might want to ambush us. That's why I must insist that you put on a bulletproof vest."
Orlov shook his head, contemptuously. "And give them the pleasure of seeing that I fear them? No, I'm not going to wear a vest, thank you Sergeant. In this meeting we've to assist as equals. The Corsairs present themselves without any fear, they're the powerful Empire. Well, we've to go in the same way, pretending that it doesn't even cross our minds that they might want to take advantage of the meeting to murder us." The clergyman made a listless gesture with his hand. "The foundations of diplomacy are based on those kinds of things."
Baxter heard what the Magister said, and nodded. "Alright, Your Eminence. Obviously you know a lot more about those things than I do, I'm only a soldier." Then he patted his chest, feeling the ultralight bulletproof vest that he was wearing under the black tuxedo he had dressed in. "Does Your Eminence want me to take off my vest too?"
Orlov smiled maliciously as he looked at the sergeant. "Oh, no Baxter, you'd better be wearing it. It's about showing them that I don't fear anything, but if in the end it turns out that there is something to fear, your role here is to stand between the bullets and me. So, in that case, you will be grateful to bring your vest." Yuri looked out the window again, and added. "I'm a diplomat, not a stupid."
The Magister made an effort to find some starting point to moderate his anger, and to be able to show a friendly face to the Corsair representatives. He tried to think of how many positive things this peace meeting could bring to the Theta Zoners, to Pygar, and to the Church, if it was finally something real. Then he thought of the name of the Corsair that he had sent them the invitation to: the Executor Francisco Javier de Creta. This name had sounded familiar to him as soon as he had seen it, and after discussing it with His Holiness, both had recognized him as the one who had also tried to call for negotiation just before the battle around Freeport 9 that sparked the war. At that time, after what had happened, that communication seemed like another insult, and the Pontiff was so outraged by the Corsairs' attitude that he rejected it, thinking it was a provocation. However, now that all parties involved in the war were in a bad situation, it was worth keeping in mind. After all, of all the Corsairs that Zoners had had contact with, the Executor de Creta was the only one whose words didn't imply some kind of veiled threat, or directly a promise of slaughter.
The Corsairs had managed to retain control over Freeport 9, but at a pyrrhic cost. They had suffered a serious naval defeat, losing important capital ships, and three of the station's four biodomes were so damaged that they were currently unusable. Furthermore, quite a few of the kidnapped technicians who knew how to use hydroponics had also been rescued, slowing down food production a lot, which would undoubtedly affect Crete in some way. The Zoners, on the other hand, were equally screwed. Although they had managed to win several battles with the support of the Outcasts and the Core, it seemed now that these two powers were no longer interested in continuing to support the cause of the recovery of Freeport 9. And, of course, the destruction of the biodomes was to bring a legendary famine to many Pygarian settlements.
Therefore, no one wanted that war to continue. The Corsairs had too many enemies out there to be interested in an asymmetrical conflict against Zoner guerrillas at the Omicrons and Omegas. The Zoners were in no way interested in a war, in any case. And of course, neither party was interested in starving. Definitely, that was a good starting point to begin a peace summit.
Orlov could see through the window how the Horizon was approaching one of the mooring fixtures of the General Academy, while the pilot reported it through the speakers distributed throughout the passenger area of the yacht. The Magister got up from the sofa and walked towards the exit airlock, while Baxter followed him carrying a grey briefcase inside which Orlov kept his Neural Net terminal. Once at the door, they both waited, while the ship carried out the final docking maneuvers. The commander of the Horizon appeared coming down the spiral stairs that led to the upper floors, approached the clergyman and saluted militarily.
Yuri addressed him. "Commander, you know what the orders are. Once we've disembarked, undock and position yourself at a distance of 3k standard space units from the Academy. Stay on standby, and keep open contact with the Academy's traffic control. I want you to be prepared to pick us up if something goes wrong." Orlov looked at the closed door, trying to catch a glimpse of something through the small central window, and then turned back again to the commander. "In any case, if there are problems, notify Faith Haven immediately. There is an assault team of 50 Pontifical Guards ready to take off from the settlement in two Voyagers. They will know what to do."
The yatch's door opened with a pneumatic noise, and a short hallway opened before them, at the end of which they could see the dock. Various security personnel from the MFE were waiting for them. Orlov said a quick prayer to Deux for strength in his task, and moved toward the welcoming committee, completely changing his worried expression into one full of peace and harmony. He let himself be led by the Academy staff to the security checkpoint, where he allowed the guards to do a thorough search of him and Baxter.
"This is my assistant Mr. Baxter." Orlov explained to the security officers pointing him with a gesture of his hand, while the sergeant stood as straight as a tree. "He will be in charge of taking care of my needs, and serving me in whatever is necessary. After all, I'm a slightly older man now and I can't take care of everything myself. Of course, you don't have to worry about him, he's unarmed just like me."
As expected, the guards soon noticed the ultralight vest that Baxter was carrying with him under the tuxedo. "Oh, of course he's wearing a bulletproof vest, yes." The Magister smiled with an expression of absolute innocence. "I've complete confidence in the good faith of the participants in this summit, but I could never forgive myself if anything happened, and poor Mr. Baxter got hurt. And as His Holiness always says, Deux helps those who help themselves."
Once through security control, the two men were taken to a private room, where an attendant told them they could wait and relax until the meeting began. Baxter stood guard at the door and Orlov sat on one of the sofas in the room. He looked at the Sirius Universal Time on his portable communication device, realizing that there were still a little less than 4 hours until the start time, and he then opened his briefcase, taking out the Neural Net terminal. He would take advantage of the time by reviewing the notes he had taken during the trip, and would confirm the points he was interested in defending.
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Med Force Academy, Omicron Theta, Six hours to Conference time
"Senor," he told his Corsair patient, "you and those of you that we rescued in the fighting are medically cleared. You will be turned over to your delegation once they arrive."
"Si, Senor, Holliday, gracias," the man told him. He paused a moment. "You know, Senor, the stories about you are true. You are a good man."
"Gracias, Senor," Doc replied to him kindly, "I was good friends with your late Elder Miguel Sephardi before some of you were born. Respect from the Corsairs has always been plentiful from your people."
Doc gave a light smile, "security will take you to a waiting room while you wait where you will be fed and given a place to rest." The two men shook hands and Doc left for another part of the hospital, one that few liked to visit.
He met the head mortician at the hospital morgue. The conflict that raged in Theta provided it with more remains than usual. It was actually a grim time for the Academy and a very tense one. The staff was on edge already even after the fighting stopped and were more so with the arrival of the Corsair delegates. Some feared more beds in the morgue would be filled but could only hope not.
"Here is a list of the deceased," Dr. Stinson told his boss, "We have the remains of 14 Zoners, 6 Corsairs, 3 Core members and 1 Outcast."
"How fitting," Doc commented in disgust, "all fighting parties represented and those were the ones that were recovered."
"Sir, 10 of the Zoner remains were recovered from the wreckage of Freeport 9, one of them being one of our new medics." explained Stinson.
"Have the families been notified?" asked Doc as he began signing death certificates for all.
"Of the ones we could locate, yes," was Stinson's answer.
"Very well," softly replied a somber Doc Holliday, "For those whom you cannot notify, grant them their final wishes per their written request and SOP."
Signing the last one, Doc handed the paperwork back to Stinson and left in disgust, walking alone by choice.
He was disgusted. He had but a few hours before the conference would start with Theta delegates from the area. Going through his mind was years of history with his Corsair neighbors. Violent as they were, he received more respect from them than he ever did from the likes of the Bretonian Crown and most recently, the Liberty government. He remembered when Miguel Sephardi once told him that the Corsairs wanted Freeport 9 back when the Outcasts were using it as a rally point for their incursions into Omicron Gamma. Somehow, war was prevented back then. "What the hell happened," kept going through his mind. He had no answers. All that he knew was that his people needed him and he had put off some work in Baffin to be with them. Not just his people, but the Neo Covenant church, the people of Pygar, Omicron Supply Incorporated and even the Corsairs themselves even if they didn't want to admit it. Recent work and events had made Omicron Theta the home of his people and he didn't want them to live in a warzone. That is not what Med Force Enterprises was about.
He continued the long walk down hallways in deep thought. He passed the things that made it all worthwhile, the things that were good with the universe. He passed classes in session, everything from basic first aid to people finishing final steps to take the medical practice into Sirius and Gallia. He continued past a daycare where kids were playing while their parents worked. He stopped to watch them catching the eye of the young lady supervising them. She smiled and waved to which Doc returned the same. After watching for another minute, he continued. He went by the maternity ward where again he stopped. In a universe full of death, there was someplace that was giving new life and Doc was proud of the ward itself. It was larger than the one on Med Force One and with staff making a home on station, relations were more common. Providing services to the residents of Pygar, they often came to have their children on station. There was always a new child in the ward and he actually went in to hold a newborn. Considering recent deaths, it drew a tear to his eye even with the smile on his face. His visit complete, he continued on. No one really spoke to him as it showed he had much on his mind.
He would arrive in his personal quarters. He still had about 5 hours to conference time and opted to rest a bit. He called back to Dr. Stinson to request copies of death certificates he had signed before pouring himself a glass of Scotch. He was looking at an old picture, one of a happier time with his late wife and three kids back on Gran Canaria. For a moment, he laid down on his bed in thought as he looked up at the ceiling while he sipped the Scotch. He wanted to unwind a bit but laying down and a drink wasn't working. He got up and put a picture on his com screen, one of his latest love. "Isabella you she devil," he said to the screen. Wanting to keep things quiet between them, he turned off the screen before setting his eyes on his baby grand piano which brought a soft smile to his face. He then made a com call to the security chief.
"Anna, I will be in my quarters. Call me when the first delegates are thirty minutes out." She simply replied with a, "Yes, Sir."
It was on his piano that he found his solace. He would play continuously until Anna called him some 5 hours later. Relaxing piano
The arms of the Docking Ring groan as they begin to close behind an Eagle. Voncloud watch's the dust from Pygar's Atmosphere flow off of his old ship as he engages the Cruise Engines manoeuvring towards the Med Force Academy. It wouldn't take long to reach the station but even this brief trip Voncloud was lost in thought. "Interesting that these Corsair's now want to talk. A massive change in attitude from when I reached out. Made a Mess, dragged us into it and now want our help to fix it"
A flash of anger takes hold of Voncloud for a moment, a clenched fist hitting the cockpit, speaking out loud as his train of thought continues. "Not like we have a Damn choice in the matter now!" He leans back into his Seat with a long breath "Calmer heads Chap, like it or not, this is the situation we are in"
As the academy comes into view, Voncloud shifts the Eagle towards its docking bays, slowing to impulse and hailing the station. "This is Victor Zero November One, requesting permission to dock" Von slows the Eagle further before the silence is broken
"Victor Zero November One. you are cleared to dock in docking bay 4"
As the interior docking bay doors close the Eagle powers down. Voncloud removes his helmet before going into his coat pocket pulling out a hard case, opening it to reveal his Sunglasses. As he places them on he opens up the cockpit, the tinted lid shifting to the side whilst security staff approach. Stepping out of the ship Von gives a quick acknowledging wave as he closes up his ship. He turns to the staff. "Ello Chaps, This where you need me to bend over and cough?"
He says with a grin. His little quip forcing a chuckle and two from the staff. One shakes their head "Not this time Voncloud, just the usual Weapons checks."
Von steps forwards holding his arms out to the sides allowing the scanners to do their work. It seemed pointless to Von to arrived armed as he knew these checks would be done so he left his sidearm in the Eagle and as expected the scanner was clean. "Thank you Sir, if you would like to follow my colleague they will show you to a guest room we have assigned to you" "Much obliged, thank you very much"
Von shakes the guards hand before following the attendant.
The Attendant leads Voncloud past the academies training and lecture rooms. He enjoyed seeing the hustle and bustle of the students, some of them being residents of Pygar. Seeing them made him smile, despite everything they continued to do everything that could to grow and thrive. After a moment the pair arrive at an office the door silently sliding open,
"Here we are make please make your self comfortable, once all are present the summit will begin. We have supplied some light refreshment for your wait"
Voncloud checked out the room, it was a modular office used as a temporary space for the academy it had been set up as a waiting work space, a desk with an office chair and a couch had been supplied whilst a table with a small amount of refreshments had been laid out. "If there is anything you need please ask" "Smashin, thank you" Voncloud smiled as he headed further into the room.
As the attendant leaves the door closes behind them. Von heads over to the desk, as he sits he pulls out his tablet setting it up. Pictures and diagrams of Freeport 9's current status, and documents of Pygar's current food production were the first things to appear on the screen. Once sat Voncloud lets out a sigh before setting the rooms lighting to its lowest. With the lights dimmed he removes his glasses and rubs his eyes then sets to work.
The conference class Gunship settles itself next to the docking ports of MFE academy. Docking clamps latching onto the hull whilst the airlocks begin to seal.
"This is the Orinoco, clamps locked and seals engaged"
"Copy that Orinoco"
Celcius remained in her seat as the comms officer finished their communication. She then looks to the pilots at the front.
"As always, thank you for the safe trip. Once I'm on board the station, disembark and patrol the area. There's been enough betrayals in Theta recently"
"Yes Ma'am"
Celcius stands from her seat picking up a case that was rested by her command console. She heads through the gunships corridors to the airlock, waiting for the pressurisation systems to do their work. With a clunk the doors of the gunship open followed by the quieter slide of the stations own airlock. Once through she is met with security.
"Celcius Abonwood, Chief Executive Officer of Omicron Supply Industries. Here for the Summit"
The Guard checks their tablet before nodding
"Welcome Miss Abonwood, you are expected. We will need to go through Security checks before I can let you proceed. If you can surrender your case and prepare for scanning"
Celcius obliges, handing the case over and holding her arms out whilst the scan begins. The guard opens the case, inside he finds her tablet some papers and a small makeup kit. He closes the case and with the scan completing its task hands it back over to Celcius.
"Thank you for your cooperation. If you head through the door behind me, one of the stations staff members will take you to your assigned waiting area"
Celcius smiles as she heads through the next door. On the other side she's greeted by one of the stations attendants.
"Welcome to MFE Academy Miss Abonwood, its a pleasure to have you aboard"
"The Pleasure is all mine, I have been meaning to visit the station, shame its not for better circumstances"
"A shame indeed, maybe another visit once all of this is passed. If you would follow me to the waiting lounge the summit will start shortly"
Celcius smiles at the attendant and motions for her to lead on following to the lounge to await the summit.
Director Jill Xi adjusted the crisp lines of her uniform, smoothing out any hint of anxiety. Today was the day – the day the Med Force Enterprises Academy station, a beacon of neutrality in the Theta system, would play host to peace talks between Zoners and Corsairs. As the director of the academy, the weight of expectation, but also a thrill of anticipation, settled on her shoulders.
A knock on the door brought her focus back to the present. Stepping aside, she was greeted by Anne Preben, her ever-composed chief of security. Anne's sharp gaze swept over Jill, taking in the director's posture, the set of her jaw. A silent exchange passed between them, a wordless confirmation of readiness.
"Everything's secure, Director," Anne reported, her voice a low hum. "All delegations are settled in their quarters. No anomalies detected."
Jill nodded, a flicker of relief easing the knot in her stomach. Months of negotiations had led to this fragile moment, and ensuring the safety of everyone involved was paramount. Yet, beneath the professional veneer, a sliver of excitement danced within her. This was a pivotal moment for Zoners in Sirius, and the academy, her academy, was at the heart of it.
A soft coo emanated from the nursery across the hall, a gentle reminder of the life she held so dear. Anya, her two-month-old daughter, slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the momentous events unfolding around her. A pang of guilt tugged at Jill's heart, but she pushed it down. Anya was safe, cared for by the academy's loving staff. This, she assured herself, was for a better future, for Anya and for countless others.
Taking a deep breath, Jill straightened her shoulders. "Thank you, Anne. Keep me updated on any developments."
Anne gave Jill a confirming nod and exited, leaving Jill alone with the weight of her responsibility. Stepping into the hallway, she cast a final glance at the nursery door before proceeding towards the conference room. The sterile white walls seemed to hum with anticipation, the silence pregnant with the potential for either triumph or disaster.
The soft hum of the ventilation system filled the conference room as Jill entered. Doc Holliday, the CEO of Med Force Enterprises and a pillar of the academy, stood by the window, his back turned towards the door. He pivoted as he heard her footsteps, a warm smile spreading across his weathered face.
"Director Xi," he greeted, his voice a gravelly baritone. "Ready for the big day?"
Jill offered a hesitant smile. "As ready as I can be, John." Her gaze drifted towards the empty chairs around the table, a flicker of nerves betraying her outward composure.
Doc, sensing her unease, chuckled gently. "It's a lot to hold on your shoulders after maternity leave, I know. But remember, we've come this far. Let us trust our instincts."
Jill nodded, appreciating his words of encouragement. "Anya is doing well, by the way," she added, a touch of pride softening her voice. "Sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the historic event unfolding around her."
Doc chuckled again. His eyes softened at the sound of Anya's name. "Good. Peace talks are stressful enough without a fussy baby on hand." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Shall we get started then?"
Jill squared her shoulders, a spark of determination replacing the lingering nervousness. With a nod, she tapped a few commands on her datapad, sending a silent message to the waiting staff. Moments later, the double doors hissed open, ushering in the delegations from both sides, their faces etched with a mix of hope and trepidation.
The murmurs of conversation that had filled the hallway now filled the room, swirling around Jill as she took her place near the head of the table. This was it. The fragile hope for a brighter future for the Theta system and beyond, rested on the shoulders of all those attending. With a deep breath, Jill began, her voice steady and clear as she introduced the Doc. Ready to let him guide the room towards a new dawn.
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He gave Jill a wink as she passed him to her seat. She was someone that he respected and had built a friendship with especially now that she was balancing work with motherhood and doing it quite well. Much was riding on the summit and it wasn't his first rodeo. Tensions were as high as the stakes were and beneath the professional look of John Holliday's face was concern and a bit of anger, the latter of which he was suppressing quite well. He greeted each delegate at the table starting with Executor de Creta.
He stood before him. Shaking his hand, he placed his left over his chest and greeted him in his own language. "Buenos días, señor y bienvenido a la Academia de la Fuerza Médica," he stated perfectly. "Know that your presence here is appreciated."
Moving around the table, he did the same with Magister Orlov with the handshake. "It is good to finally meet you, Magister."
He then greeted Von Cloud in the same way only he placed his left hand on his right shoulder. "Good to see you again. It has been too long."
He moved along to Miss Abonwood. He had not met her before and placed his left hand over their handshake. "Miss Abonwood, I have not had the privilege of meeting you. It is an honor. He then moved to his seat and stood before them.
His professionalism contained anything he might be feeling. His dress was his simple black robe and now that the conference had started, he removed his hat. He first addressed de Creta.
"Senor, some of your pilots that were rescued were treated and I released them to your people. Their files are with them and they will be OK," he told him handing him a list of the pilots recovered.
He then dropped a folder on the table. His face was stern.
"We cannot allow this to happen again," he stated. "This is a list of remains I have in the morgue. No one was spared. On that list you will find Corsairs, Zoners, Core and an Outcast. I think we owe it to these people and these are the remains we recovered to prevent this from happening again."
He started a slow walk around the table. "My history with the Corsair empire has always been positive. Co-existing with The Brotherhood long ago under the leadership of Elder Miguel Sephardi here in Omicron Theta and the Omegas themselves. I have received more respect from them than I have from either the Bretonian Crown or the Liberty government." He had his hands together in front of him. "Freeport 9 has always been a beacon of friendship. Granted, at times, it was abused. I remember Miguel once telling me that he wanted the Freeport to stop the Outcasts from staging raids around it. I understood his frustration. I also understand the frustration with the current leadership and bounty hunters on the base. For me personally, I tolerate hunters at best but what happened on that Freeport as a result of a hunter was tragic."
"While I do not condone the acts of individual Zoners attacking the Corsairs, I can certainly understand why they did it. Freeport 9 has been a home to many a Zoner to include my own medical staff so those Zoners defended what was home. Now it lays in ruins as a reminder of how dangerous space can be. Those same Zoners, the Zoners of Pygar and my own people are nervous. They have been pushed out b the Bretonian Crown, assaulted by the Liberty government over the guise of Insurgency cleaning and now they feel threatened by the neighbors they have lost blood with with those same Bretonians." He gave a reminding look. "I am sure we all remember what happened on Gran Canaria." He then continued as he came around to where his chair was.
"Our hope today is to work out a new agreement, a new peace so that we may again live as neighbors. It is not dying that is hard for us all as we have done plenty of it at the hands of those I mentioned before, it is living that is hard when everything you value is taken from you or just plain butchered. The Corsairs want to live in peace in Omicron Theta and so do we. Nothing signed can re-enforce this but the our honor can. Yes, those here will have strong feelings but they must be respected. Let us learn from each other, our mistakes and forge a better future for all who live here."
With that, he took his seat, awaiting to see who would say what next.
It is roughly two hours before the conference schedule and MFE Academy is picking up three incoming ships. It's one Titan escorted by two Centurion class fighters. Cesar Gutierrez, the Brotherhood's Elder, being the pilot of the Titan, sends the identification signal and permission to dock to MFE Academy. With a few button presses on the console, he signals two escort fighters to turn back and they break formation from his ship. Just as Cesar powers down his weapons and cruise engines, the installation grants him docking access and he begins initiating the docking sequence.
As he's slowly piloting his ship into the docking bay, he sighs as his mind thinks of many sacrifices and losses that accumulated during the battle of Freeport 9. He knew some of the pilots that had this conflict as the final battle of their lives. "I could've been one of them..." he says in his mind "...but Santa Muerte has decided it's still not my time once more."
Seeing his hermanos deaths in over two decades long experience on the battlefied almost became natural to him, but the pain always hits back. It was extremely shocking at first, but his mind has learned to filter out some of the pain over time. Even if one doesn't realise it, no matter how tough, after each time a tiny part of their soul gets eaten away.
Like every other Corsair, Cesar has learned very early in his life that losses are unavoidable in battles, despite being as loco as he is, he always worked on trying to keep them minimal as best as possible. It is what he will try once more in this summit.
Just as his mind drifted back to reality, Cesar's ship has successfully docked on MFE Academy's docking bay. He prepares to leave the ship while waiting for the warning lights to confirm that the room's atmosphere has been pressurized back to normal.
A couple of security guards await him outside and he greets them once he exists his Titan.
"Mister Gutierrez, you too have decided to arrive early." says one of the security guards.
Cesar nods and responds "I often say Omicrons are dangerous and full of unexpected surprises, amigo. I always take that into account. If you would, lead me to the private quarters where I can reside until the meeting take place, por favor."
The guard nods and tilts his head towards the other guard signaling him to escort Cesar to his temporary quarters.
Present time
Cesar leaves his quarters and walks his way to the conference room with the same guard from before navigating him through the Academy. He observes the Academy's interiors and its advanced medical technology, which as always looks impressive, but it's not something new from MFE. In the main hall, on his right he notices doors that have small windows he could see through and there were multiple men, very clearly Corsairs, being relocated for treatment by MFE doctors and he remembers this well. He continues his way towards the conference room. Upon reaching it, the guard instructs him to go through the doors and remains standing there.
Right upon entering, Cesar notices that the conference has just started as announced by Doc Holliday, slightly earlier than he expected. He spots Executor de Creta and Doc Holiday are now in the process of exchanging words, so he decides to greet other participants of the summit with a handshake and a slight nod to not create any interruptions. Over many years, the Brotherhood used to make deals or cooperate with these Zoner groups as back as when Cesar was a mere rookie pilot of M3 class fighter, but it's his first time meeting their lead figures in person.
He finds an opportunity to approach Doc Holliday as he took his seat and while offering him a handshake says "Senor Holliday, the Corsair Empire is in your debt. Gracias for treating our men despite everything in present situation, I will never forget this. Hopefully our groups can continue the stable diplomacy, not just to honor the former Elder Sephardi, but also for the better future."
Finally he greets Executor de Creta and jokingly says: "My apologies for arriving in very last minute. Bad weather, amigo!" while rubbing his beard.
Maybe an attempt to make Executor de Creta jealous of that beard. No one knows, even the character writer himself.
Afterwards, he takes his designated seat next to the Executor and with everyone present the conference can officially begin.
Javier, sits at the chair, with Cesar at his said who did a joke to relax tensions, he smiles at him and pays attention to John. He always respected and liked the doctor, and overall, MFE, they saved hundreds of lives without interest, trained some corsairs to become great doctors, and inspired peace and equality.
-After John's speech, Javier, with a serious face, starts speaking- Good day, first of all, thanks to Jill, John and all MFE for accommodating us and this summit. Wish your trip was safe, and calm, because we are here for the most important matter we could even had in our minds. -Javier sighs calmly- The war in Theta, is over. There is no winner but all losers in diverse degrees. rowns- This bloodbath, this destruction, the crippling of freeport 9, could have been avoided in the first instances, all of you -looks at the diverse guests- Represent diverse factions, who could stopped this in time before anyone had to pay the most expensive price, I had to watch dozens of files regarding wrecks, floating bodies, frozen parts, still burning ships from all of us, Zoners and corsairs.
-Sights- Just for what? Outcasts abandoned you, they used you as cannon fodder, they throw you to the imperial fleets to die, and then, que? they turn to the Sigmas. This cabrones of the Core, sabotaged one bio-dome so we all starve to death, and then disapeared to the corners of Omicron Delta. Our intelligence services located this film of a core operative deploying a satchel charge in the engineering room, of bio-dome 3.
-Javier, presses some buttons at his tablet sending in the middle of the room, a video displaying three core operatives deploying a satchel charge and then a second video, eight minutes after, leaving in a freighter using dock 4- The reality now, is this one: Corfu and Pygar are starving, Freeport 9 is in crumbles and Theta is in the verge of a full decay. -He sighs, and drinks some water from a glass- But I do have a proposition for you all. The Imperio is willingly to make a peace treaty and end this conflict once and for all, Crete needs food, and fertilizers since as you all know here, Crete's soil is really sterile. I will transmit to you, the terms of the peace treaty to your neural-net so you can think about them.
-Javier, works on his tablet sending a list of terms to all the representatives in the room-
- 1 Zoners will not have any type of friendly treaty to Outcasts. They will not engage in hostilities, but they will refuse them in they'r installations.
- 2 Omicron Theta, as a starting point, will become a protectorate under the Corsair empire military security. Zoners will have total freedom inside.
- 3 The zoners, as a war reparations will cooperate with the Corsair empire in the reparations of Freeport 9 and after, they will have the right to use its installations under the empire administration.
- 4 The zoners, will help bringing fertilizers and food to Crete as war reparations, and also will enjoy a safe passage trough Omegas, convoys in need will have corsair patrols as escorts from Gran Canaria to Omicron Theta.
- 5 The Corsair empire will release all Zoner hostages as a sign of good faith and intention to cooperate with the Zoners and the ones in need will be shuttled to Corfu and Pygar.
- 6 The Zoners, and the Corsairs will allow each other to dock and use installations in the Protectorate and beyond and also all trading companies will have access to both markets in an effort to help each other trade commodities and services in the civilian market.
This are our negotiation proposals, I do think they are acceptable, and will benefit us all, there are thousands of lives hanging by a thread.
-Stares Yuri Orlov, with a serious and sad face- Monseñor, you'r church, sons of Crete, are starving and you lost some vessels in the war, was this worth? We could call to each other, hermanos.
-Stares at Voncloud- Pygar, suffered from hunger, but now is in the verge of starving, was that necessary?
-Stares at Miss Abonwood- How many innocent workers did you lost from all-side fire trying to secure the cargo? how many more have to fall?
-Stares at Jill and John- How many more Zoners have to die? how much more patients can your installations hold? isn't that enough? Can we all stop this bloodshed and improve our relations?
-Turns, to speak to Cesar- And you, mi hermano, sangre de Creta, how many more of our brothers and childs, have to die in foreigner lands for a lost cause caused by our enemigos, the Core and the Outcasts? Is that what we want for our future generations? sentence them all to a future of war, blood and hunger?.
-Javier, relaxes and drinks some sips of water- This is what I had to say -sighs- Please, I would like to know your thoughts and ideas.
-waits for others to speak-
Voncloud had taken his seat when Doc came in and watched him as he greeted the Corsair Executor then begun his circle of the table. Von looked at Doc's hand as it rested on his shoulder briefly. It dwelled in his mind that despite he and Doc knowing one another for many years, they had never spoken or interacted outside of meetings such as this. It was always some sort of issue that brought them together in the same room.
He Remained quiet whilst Doc spoke, much of his words resonating with him. The nervousness of Pygar's denizens, the events of Gran Canaria at the hands of Bretonia. Freeport 9 being a central beacon of neutrality within the Omicrons. His train of thought ending as his attention is brought back to the room with the arrival of Cesar, watching him apologise and crack a joke. This erked Von as Cesar takes his seat and Javier speaks.
At first Voncloud was content to listen whilst pleasantries were given, but anger quickly engages his brain when its suggested that those present besides himself could of done something to stop the events that unfolded. With clenched fists he keeps composure long enough for this Executor to continue, bringing up the proposed terms on the tables display. Before he could finish reading Von noticed he had been addressed.
He stands with a slam of his hands on the table.
“Are you taking the piss?! You call us here only to point the finger of blame at us?! To presume none of us tried to stop this blood shed?! I reached out and was met with nothing but Dismissal. A showing that the Corsair's I had the honour of co-operating with in the past were no more. I was given no reason after that to consider reaching out. It was only after the fact that you decided to reach out to 'negotiate' And even then your words had threats inter weaved within.
'We will punish anyone who dares challenge us'. Those were your words!. What could we have done to stop it!”
Voncloud Slams his left hand on the table again, pointing at Javier with his right “You and yours had already decided your choice of action. Theta hadn't seen an Outcast Fleet of any size before your damn take over of Freeport 9.
YOU were the ones who brought War to Omicron Theta, Not the outcasts!
YOUR Choices is what caused the bloodshed.
YOUR Actions that led us to be desperate enough to ally with the Outcasts!”
He takes a deep breath crossing his arms. “All of this, is your doing. And its only after your defeat that you have decided to sue for peace.
Pygar wasn't suffering from Hunger, before you came along. Now we suffer”
Voncloud returns to sitting, readjusting his glasses.
“Before I even consider these Terms on behalf of Pygar, the fault of the Corsair's must be admitted”