Joseph stares at the transmission as it comes across. A slight smile appears on his face. "Obviously, Monsieur Alyward has gone insane," He thought, "Perfect. The plan is starting to fall into place."
Standing up slowly, he turned towards the opened door and proceeded out. "Madam, inform the palace, and the Grand Marshall of this message."
The lady turned towards him only to see Joseph walk by with a wicked smile. "Anything else my liege?" She dared to mumble. Joseph stopped and turned slowly towards her. "Yes, I wouldn't mind some wine down at my study." He smirked and gave a wink before starting off again.
"No execution teams this time My liege?"
"Not this time." He grinned lightly to himself and carried on down the hallway.
Jean Le'Blanc sat in the lounge at Gap Station. Sometimes, Ile-De-France pilots just needed to sit down. One couldn't help but stand at a time like this, though...
"This is crazy!" cried one of the EFL Oil pilots nearby, "How can we believe the crown with such staggering evidence!?"
"But what is the Council's credibility?" asked Jean, "We can't go believing anyone who has the word 'Mad' in his title! That would be mad!"
"But what of the tape?" cried another IDF pilot.
"What of it?" replied Jean, "Can we really expect the Council to provide worthwhile and credible evidence? They likely killed the princess themselves. According to the tape, there was even one of the Council there!"
"But listen to the Prince's voice, man!" cried out the EFL Oil pilot again, "He is shivering at what he has done!"
"And how is that the prince?" replied Jean again, "How can we be sure that the person is really the prince? We cannot. Sometimes people tell me I look like the prince. As far as I know, I sound like him too. The Council has lied before. They said that Sirians weren't destructive in any way, shape, or manner. Last time I met one, he identified himself as an Outcast and proceeded to fire on my ship!"
"But this is indomitable proof!" cried out the EFL Oil pilot a third time, "You can't deny it! That's his voice. That is the prince."
"The prince?" Asked Jean, incredulously, "I have met the prince in space myself. He is the protector of the righteous and savior of the crown. He saved me from a Sirian once, you know. A real nasty ship. And ugly, too. Pirate Transport, I think it was. Unbelievable. I owe him my life."
"The prince?" asked the IDF pilot, even more incredulous, "In space, even? Wow, that must have been great an honor."
"Yes," Jean explained, "It's amazing, really. A very considerate man. He even listened to my concerns regarding Sirian diseases and them trying to get in our water and killing us all. Most people thought I was a lunatic, but the prince..."
Jean continued on to detail his crowning achievement as a shipper. A man in the corner of the lounge only laughed to himself.
[8:32:45 PM] Dusty Lens: Oh no, let me get that. Hello? Oh it's my grandma. She says to be roleplay.
[12:49:19 AM] Elgatodiablo: You know its nice that you have all that proof and all, Bacon... but I just don't believe you.
"Lord Remi! this is Lucy DeGaulle, I will stand behind you, as well as beside you as I did in the battle against the bastard prince and his entourage yesterday."
"If you would allow it, I will continue flying at your side, and I will continue trying to protect you! The Royalists must pay for their lies and treachery, they had almost tricked me into fighting in the name of that stupid crown?! now I see the truth, No longer will I wear the uniform of those Royalist dogs! We will avenge your lady and I shall lay my life down if it will allow your goal to be obtained!"
Bruce Montague stared at the screen for almost half an hour after viewing the transmission. He knew it was coming, the whole affair had been carried out quickly and under too much emotion- just like the execution of the Princess. Even if incontrovertible proof surfaced that Joseph had, in fact, ordered her execution, there was still a fallback plan. But he'd rather not have to tell Gallia that their beloved Princess, whose memory was their current propaganda engine, had tried to turn to Council. Nor that they had lied about it. It would still keep things together, but there could be no more mistakes.
Bruce abruptly turned from the monitor and headed down the hall to the temporary headquarters of the propaganda office. They had taken the sudden assignment to the Temeraire just as he'd expected them too, entirely without complaint- but he did feel a tinge of pity for them, given how important they were. Aboard the Temeraire they would be safe from the Maquis attacks that had been plaguing the propaganda office recently- they had lost too many good minds to terrorists already. Shaking his head, he entered the room and barked "Attention" loudly enough to catch attention from the busy, cramped room.
"I'm sure you've all seen this latest transmission. What do we have?"
A man in the middle of the room straightened himself up and began to speak.
"Well, for starters, the transmission from the Grand Marshall that he copied was an internal GRN communication. Civilians can't possibly check it, and the military either wouldn't dare or wouldn't know how. However, I'm sure Council has agents still operating in our ranks that could find and falsify it- especially since Ayleward has the ship it was sent to- so we'd best not draw attention to it."
"Good work. Next?"
Someone from the back piped up without leaving his chair.
"He looks honest."
"Problematic, I know. Any ideas on what we can do about it?"
Thinking for a few seconds, the man started to brainstorm out loud.
"Look through his past, see if we can connect him with anything shady or outright bad. If this isn't his first transgression, it's easier to believe he's just a good actor."
"Go ahead and investigate, but don't act on it yet. If he admits to it he'll look more honest and probably come up with some teary speech about change and why everyone should join Council. I don't want that, but worse would be if he brought up a full list of transgressions without prompting from us. Keep something on hold in case we need it. Next?"
There was silence. The various ministers and civil servants looked across the room, but mostly shrugged and returned their eyes to the Duke. After a few seconds, he burst out:
"Has no one noticed that he used a voice-only recording of the incident? You, of all people, should know they're easy to forge! Make me a recording of him saying 'I am a lying son of a fishmonger' with the exact same device he used. Now get back to work, we've plenty of it ahead of us."
The Duke spun in place and left the room. They were getting sloppy too... this could be very bad if not handled properly. Precision was needed, and he needed to get more advisers that would freely speak their thoughts... discipline made for good soldiers, but a yes-man was more dangerous than no man at all. There was still time before a press release would be expected, so there might be time to find more people.
"Captain on deck."
"As you were. Marcel, get me the Prince's secretary on Nevers. I want to arrange a meeting in person. There is much to discuss."
One thing was for certain- he would need to keep the Prince closer to him than ever before... Joseph had something in mind, and the Duke was not often fond of dealing with the fallout of the Prince's schemes. This situation was serious, and the Prince had yet to learn the art of prudence. Montague only hoped he could prevent most of the damage yet to come.
Remi stood alone on the bridge of the scarred and dirtied Valor, which has survived far more than it ever should have. He had long sinced removed his Royal Navy uniform, but is not wearing the Council's colors. He was taught and trained to hate the Council, so it is hard for him to adjust to working with them. They may say their plans are not what the Royal Navy have said they are, but he is still unwilling to believe them for any serious matter until they prove otherwise.
He walks over to one of the windows, gazing at the two suns in the Champagne system... No one seems to believe the proof I have given on the Prince, and none believe my side of the story, it seems... He laughs to himself. Lucy, that girl... She's even younger than I am, and yet she is ready to dedicate her life to defending someone, despite how suicidal it may be... He lowers his head, his forehead pressing against the glass. I rushed into things. I need a plan. I can't just charge into Burgundy, screaming for the Prince, and destroy every single one of them. He laughs again. That was a slightly delightful thought. They've already have a new Valor to chase me around Gallia, so they do not want to take any chances. I need to bide my time, strike with the Council against the Royal Navy, and wait for the Prince to come into the forray...
Remi looked up at the ceiling, half smiling. His mind had gone from a serious debate in his head, to a daydream of a duel against the Prince himself, in which he comes out victorious, with hundreds of people cheering for him as he kills the traitorous bastard in a final and fair match. Remi sighs. He knows how skilled the Prince is, and it wouldn't be that easy to defeat him.
So... They want to call me The Mad Knight, hmm? I think I like that title. He grins to himself, walking out.
Remi half-smiled to himself. Well, that's one more person who supports me... That's two now. Heh.
Remi closed the message he had received, and redirected his attention.
He was sitting at a console which had direct access to the databases that stored all of the data on the Vengeance, pressing away on keys, and searching through files.
Code:
search\deleted files\security\recordings
::Searching for; Deleted Security Recordings::
::...Searching
::...Searching
::...Deleted data found. Please input passcode to continue.
my name is Zoe DeLisle, and I am working for Gallia's one and only free press agency - the Croix de Liberte. We are currently preparing a major information package to be...distributed in occupied Gallia, and I was hoping I could include an interview with none less than the one the Royals call the "Mad Knight" himself. We're looking forward to hearing from you.
Remi looks down at his console, a notice flashing, showing that he has a new message. Someone wishes to actually interview me? Well that's... A good thing! He grins to himself, thinking of what it would mean for his words to be heard and seen all over Gallia from a much more credible source than his own mouth.
::Reply to message? \Y::
::Recording message::
Remi bows his head slightly, before speaking. "A pleasure, miss DeLisle. I would be more than happy to partake in the interview. Would you prefer to speak to me in person, or just open transmission? I would be more than happy to do either, but I'm sure you would understand when I say that I would like to have an armament with me if it is to be in person. I'm not exactly loved by the Royal Navy these days." He gives a weak smile. "Speak with me again about your plans, and I will see if the time and place are suiting. Until then, miss DeLisle."