Ramsey was abuzz, hundreds upon hundreds of feet briskly making way for the hangars. It was the most intimidating thing possible for the ships pulling in for a landing, seeing that army of people who expected them with more than just eagerness. But pride. Money couldn't buy you moments like this, grit and blood could. Something a cause like the Xenos certainly valued more than anything else.
Morreti's Eagle was at the head of the formation, and although he was the center of attention for now, that would soon change. Once the wing had set down and clamped in securely, he would pull himself to the top of his ship. Arms outstretched to gesture about the sheer spectacle of this. Hundreds of people crammed into one space, standing room only. When they saw the large as life Cobra on his back, it was like thunder rattled the walls, hundreds of voices screaming out. The tree of liberty had seen a great deal of its thirst quenched with blood today, but these men - they wanted more. "Words can't describe what it's like to look out at all of you! Words can't describe how good it feels to fight for this cause! I think we can all agree, there's nothing quite like the Liberty Free Republic is there?" This was given another roar of voices, and it sounded like the people were saying "Say that again" as a show of confidence. "But there's also nothing quite like him." His right hand snapped outwards into the crowd, singling somebody out. The pilot of a Kingfisher that had practically been torn in half from hails upon hails of gunfire.
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First time at the Fort. To say it was cramped was the understatement of the century; the ground turned flesh and bone, hundreds of personalities looking up at the scorched and battered strike ship. The cracked cockpit glass slid open with an ear-piercing screech, trying its best to fit through the bent hull and let the man inside stand up. The view was certainly something; he's seen the cityscape of Manhattan, the industrial hellhole that used to be Leeds, the ice deserts of Hamburg, but never something as special as a ragtag group of bandits all collectively forming an army so vast that even Liberty itself, with all its might, would be left speechless at. Helmet off, his right arm stretched above his head in a wave. He choked up - briefly. Who wouldn't? So many eyes piercing right through him like the sharpest of blades. "Free folk," He looked raggedy, but strong, collected. The years have not been kind, yet his resolve remained unbroken. The pilot looked through the hangar, scanning for silence. Once satisfied, he broke it himself.
"Coronado's a graveyard!"
His voice echoed, bouncing violently on the metal walls of the Fort's hangars for what seemed like an eternity, the roars of victory from his new compatriots erupted in a volley of unrelenting force, bringing even more people to look at the "Hero of Coronado". Talk about a flamboyant first visit to the Xeno capital.
Cheekily, Morreti gestured to his ear as if the people gathered before him weren't loud enough. Their response was entirely expected, with noise that felt like it could have compromised the structure of the very floor beneath them. When his mouth parted again to speak, the mob of free men quietened down just enough for his shouting to soar into their ears. "I'd say it's more of a crucible about now! One that you - the Hero of Coronado walked out of with bodies in your wake! When that system's finally free, it'll be your name we call!" There was most assuredly not going to be silence any time soon, not with the crowd this had gathered and certainly not with the demagoguery at play, which served only to further stoke the flames. "Greatness calls! How do we answer?!" The screams formed a unified response this time.
"Greatness is just a page in our book!"
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Never in all of Locke's time with the Alliance which admittedly was rather short when compared to some of the old timers, had he seen this many people crowding into Ramsey's hangers. Removing his painted helmet and wiping the sweat from his brow, he hit the canopy release and waited as the canopy of the Hawfinch opened with a slight hiss as the seal that protected it's pilot from the cold void of space was broken before he clambered out to stand on the ships nose.
With his helmet tucked under his left arm he gazed out at the sea of faces all focused on Moretti and he was rather surprisingly unable to suppress the grin coming across his face as he watched as the crowd was being worked and the Hero of Coronado himself was introduced, while he certainly wasn't one who was fond for speeches the energy of the hanger was simply too strong to resist and so as the crowd screamed it's response he himself joined them this time. "Greatness is just a page in our book!"
Rites of sacrifice. Claiming communion with the divine. Wearing a cassock. Only these three attributes matched that of a priest. Casting the first stone, while blabbering about a "false god" surely did not. The pitch black grizzly landed as the last craft of the formation. No introduction was needed, everyone knew the freighter under the callsign 'Sin'. Same goes for the pilot, it was rather hard to miss anyone dressed as a priest on a Xeno station.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned." His murmurs made completely silent by the enthusiastic roar of the crowd. Hands clasped, he nevertheless finished the confession of guilt. As usual, deep regret was expressed, not towards his actions, but the lack of haste dealing with heretics. The cycle repeated. A few days of moderate sanity, followed by a crusade against anything and everything. With the passing of a minute, the roar of the crowd got to him. The cassette playing the B side finally, with different tunes but the same message.
"Greatness is just a page in our book!" Is what he wanted to say. He tried his hardest to lift the pin on the record, ending up with a predictable mixture of the chant.
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![[Image: Greed.gif]](http://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Greed.gif)