Serge Malcorps

[Anaximander]

Serge put down the book and carefully wrapped it in its silken book cloth before putting it back in the fortified glass showcase where it belonged. He locked the case, and took off the white gloves he had been wearing to not stain the yellow paper pages of this ancient relic.

He was in his personal wing of Chateau de Étienne, his family's ancestral home on Planet Lyon. He had just returned days before, after a 2 year stay at École Spéciale Militaire de Paris, one of the most prestigious institutions for officer cadets in all of Gallia. It had long been tradition to recruit the youth of the aristocracy directly into the role of officers of the Royal Navy, as it ensured cultivated and upstanding examples for the common navymen to follow. It ensured loyalty to traditional rule.

He sat back down in his lush red Louis XVI sofa, threw the gloves on the coffee table and took out a small black notebook from his coat pocket and started scribbling.