For<strike> King</strike> and Country La D?fection du Pierpont
It was an icy day on Planet Nevers, and some would say that's what did it. Others would say that the cold just 'froze the sensible neurons' in his brain. Still others said he chose Freedom, that he chose... Gallia, and with it, the People.
But that part of the story is still unravelling... This story begins in 801 A.S.
Gregoire Pierpont, 22, freshly recruited into the Ile-de-France shipping company in the midst of a rebellion that had already seen one planet fall to the bastard Council pirates. His brown hair, brown eyes, and relatively average look made him one of the most average Recruits the company had ever seen. He passed the entrance exams into the company after his fouray on the University of Leon on Planet New Paris, and was starting off on a career that would be, for the most part, average. His life wasn't a spectacular one, his wife wasn't very attractive and for that matter neither were his two children.
What made Gregoire stand-out may not have been his looks, or his intelligence, but he had what other men dreamed of having. The air of authority. His word moved mountains, and it was this charismatic attitude that pole-vaulted him into the management echelons of the company within his first five years of service to the Ile-de-France shipping company. Gregoire was known almost as a "blue-blood" around the shipyard and spacesports that he visited, maintaining loyalties and order in the IDF's lesser-known areas of development. He bled blue for the Crown, and for the King. Only Joseph Pomeroy himself was said to be more loyal to the King. Gregoire had himself once dispatched 7 of his own men for daring to go against the 'Will of the King' by speaking out against him in a conference meeting. The incident was put under the table, as the Gallic Royal Police did not wish to prosecute a man whose rising-star-esque career was in its molding stages. Besides... they were just traitors.
Flash forward to 814 A.S.
It was a quiet afternoon on the station, with the Council forces pushing more and more ships, people, and supplies into the Languedoc system. The Council had thus far taken parts of the system, but due, in part, to Pierpont's efforts the Council had not yet succeeded in successfully penetrating Nimes Station defenses. Supply ship after supply ship had managed, somehow, to slip past the barbaric barricade of Maquis and Brigand pirate forces becoming more active in the system since the Council assault. This was all set to change, however, with one man and one decision in a chance encounter with a Council operative. The mans name was forgotten to the halls of history, but the Council operatives name was not. One Capitaine Arthur Levesque.
Arthur and his team of insurgents had been planning the assault on Nimes station for months, checking supply timings, security detail swaps, docking camera footage, and any other necessary tools to help ease the operation. The time had finally come to commence the operation.
"Tell me were ready to move out, Lieutenant."
"Oui, Capitaine. The operation is a go on your mark. Our ships are standing by, and we have an 8 minute window of opportunity to strike."
So much planning, so many meticulous hours of intelligence had finally come down to this. This moment history would change, and with this capture the Council forces could begin their final assault on Planet Quillan barring on this success. It all depended on him now.
Arthur glanced down to his watch and took in a deep breath, letting out a slow sigh.
"Oui. For the people of Gallia!!!"
Four assault ships stormed the station, dock hatches once sealed were blown open, the bridge station crew was taken completely by surprise, security personnel routed. Within one hour every vestige of the Crowns influence on Nimes station was uprooted. Except one.