Freeport 10's "Sylvania Dome"

[Enkidu]

"Ah, a merciful thing that, I find there is nothing quite so detestable as a Marnite. I mean, what sort of moniker is that for a populace, eh? It's phonetics run reminiscent of that torrid Bretonian spread that they insist upon defecating en masse over their misshapen excuses for respectable toast…" Achille babbled conversationally, elated to have an audience. This was clearly going to be a long one.

"…But to be from Versailles, ooh, sweet Satan…" The Burgundian whistled as steam-valve might, "…you have me bowled. To find parentage in the royal retreat makes for quite the pedigree, cheri, perhaps (dare I infer it) a title?" The Burgundian grinned, flagging a decanter from the waiter passing without halting halting his tirade. "…I can imagine the rent in such a lodging is considerable, and I'm not sure even Lucifer's legal detachment could render the insurance palletable - after all, Maquis-based-suicide-ramming attracts quite the interest. Perhaps that's the true root for the invasion, eh? Our Royal Highness needs a lodging change?" *He snorts, deftly pouring out two tumblers of rose-tinted De France as though it was an act of instinct, sliding one towards Omicroner without pause delay.*

"It wouldn't shock me". Achille continued, answering his own query with alcohol-infused assertion. "No, no it would not".

For the first time since he first sat down, Nadeau took a ginger, platonic glance at his new-found drinking partner, followed swiftly by a prolonged one. To Achille; she appeared highly bourgeoisie, teetering dangerously upon the wafer precipice that divided merchant from aristo, genetically pretty in that pre-sculpted, botticellian manner that males of financial merit (and limited imagination) invariably carved into their progeny. But that wasn't what enticed the Burgundian. No, what drew Achille to this damsel was the opportunity to exercise florid Gallic within the Freeport proper. And Dieu damn it if it wasn't enjoyable.

"…In all sincerity now, the likelihood of me venturing to Marne for anything other than a few thousand tonnes of cryocubes, Nyodynium and the other necessities of commerce is slight. Mind you, OSI is not the only organisation with a degree of export freedom within the land of our mutual births…"

"But do try a little wine ami - It's De France, you know". He mouthed, prodding the tumbler ever nearer.


"…It seems you have me at a certain disadvantage in possessing my name already, cheri, so I must confess that I have little to offer you in exchange for yours, if you will enlighten me so?"

"…Oh, and it's Achille. Just Achille - slaves and nomads alike address me as such, seemingly. Save 'mister' for the under-revered."

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's Shipping Unions, retired from a life of piracy.)

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