First Baffin Zoner Zummit at The Zenarch, Malaclypse Freeport

[Enkidu]

Achille was completely dishevelled. After pulling the fastest docking manoeuvre in his life (so fast the station security personal mistook his osprey’s 300 meter – per-second mooring-buster of a docking entrance for an attack run and nearly blasted him out of the sky) and being bombarded by queries from all manner of unsightly individuals, Achille eventually stumbled into the found the Zenarch. To say the room (for it was too vast for a room) amazed him would have been a cardinal understatement. Is it possible to experience anti-claustrophobia? He thought, his shoes crunching onto the grassland surrounding the amphitheatre; awe atrophying into subtle jealousy. To think that we... supposed that we were imitating nature with a bag of sods and a handful of Synth weed when we first settled in Taus... Dieu, we didn’t have a clue did we?

Ahead of him a crowd of Zoners were slowly coalescing, and slowly Achille felt his element returning to him as he adjusted his cufflinks, not a hair out of place. People, now that’s something I can handle. Achille smiled, his eyes scanning the crowd for anyone he recognised. To his relief, individuals were still coalescing gradually, soothing his injured taste for punctuality and the desire to leave an impression. Now where’s that self-indulgent hatwearer? Achille grinned, eyes searching for Autoine as he slid passed Tobias with a slight, unfamiliar nod.

Right on cue the black stovepipe appeared, bobbing over the crowd before sliding back again without trace, but Achille saw it. A few steps and its wearer was also disclosed, apparently about to engage conversation with a rather important looking Zoner. Silently Achille cleared his throat, mentally hardened himself, and launched into the dialogue before a word was spoken:
“Greetings Sirs... and Autoine of course...” He nodded slightly. “Hopefully I’m sufficiently late for you”.

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
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