The Meeting

[Enkidu]

To state that Achille was peeved would be an underestimation - he positively reeked of befuddlement.

"…Trivial, yet formal? Putain de la…"

“Oh, tradition; the great shiv that holes us all”. He gestured, deftly depositing Thedore with a copious deposit of wine to offset the dairy, watching him feed with a hawkish gaze. “…A lamentable part of the Gallic patriarchy, the aristocracy; all children born only to continue the achievements of their progenitors – to continue the line.” Achille conjugated; forcibly relaxing in the cover of a shrug.

“…so, you are both of monolithic background.” He shifted, cogs cogitating in the depths of his head as he compared the Nuits. “Unsurprising…”

“...My sympathies; I myself suffered a degree of, hm, militaristic interference on the righteous path to academia; such is the GRN’s glut for manpower with every Valor, Obstinate and Normandie that rolls from its docking cradles”. He grinned, fixing the pair with a decided affability.

“…We are indeed between friends, why, dare it come into question? Oh, and, ah, quite – Achille is an entirely reasonable moniker for me, as per your brother’s…. rather obvious… provision of pre-information regarding my person. But what is the odd… breach of both security and social conduct between such uncannily ill-suited compatriots as us, eh? Permit me to refill your glass ami… There!" The face man nodded, winking knowingly as the glass overflowed.


"…On the subject of my personal career, my employment… Well sir…" The Burgundian gasped, arms expanding outwards across the back of the upholstery as if he was bonded to an air pump. "…I am surprised that Pierre here, being such a reliable source of data for you as he is, has not enlightened you. I am (as you state), one Achille Augustain Nadeau…" Flourished the former, shamelessly self-exhibiting; "…And I, ami, am the proverbial paste that holds this station, this installation, this chimera of malcontents that a certain R.A. (who will go unnamed) chose to moniker the Commonwealth. And, rather oddly, it has made me particularly wealthy - I have prospered and flourished, yes, even more so than before -, despite all the peculiar, barbaric Sirian personages one occasionally bumps noses with. But such is the way of success."

"…In terms of a research field, well, I delegate. I send my teachings to my disciples, and in return they keep the flock in a reasonable order - pardon the (apt), divine metaphor. Jack of all trades, and master of them, unanimously…" He grinned, halting only to suckle the bottle. "…But you know how it is; success breeds success, no?"


"…However, I am loath to affirm that you have not truly answered my query, Thedore…" Nadeau broached, as tactfully as able. "…Pierre did mention (twice now, to this date), that he is, was, a biologist of considerable notoriety, but yourself? You claim that enlistment has not prevented you from becoming…" Two eyes tracked the unscrupulous figure, and a tongue struck for a word. "…Your present state."


"…In essence sir, what is your field?"

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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