Chanteloup raised an eyebrow at the mention of visiting Curacao. It was not an eyebrow raised in anger or shock, but amused surprise. Curacao, among many, many other places, was only an important name on a map, at best a 3D representation on a holo-display. She knew of it, but she didn't know it. Vertiga's words about his home had a certain echo in her... Except she could still go home after this, and he did not.
"Maybe you could, monsieur Vertiga. Maybe you could. Believe it or not, I never actually set foot on Blois, or Blouis as it is falsely known in Sirius, for some unclear reason. I suppose we might as well see both together once this whole mess blows over, and we'll get to compare." She had no idea why she said that, in a exceedingly rare loss of self-control on her part. Probably just the lack of sleep, and the relatively fresh wound.
"To be fair, I haven't been in the streets of any of our cities for ages, now... I'm a little disheartened to know of miss Hookier's poor reception here and there, but not entirely surprised. If the legends are true, you've been further from this corner of the galaxy than any man has ever been before. You know of isolation... Multiply that experience by eight centuries. The Gauls are emerging from a deep slumber, and are only now digesting the fact that many other nations exist on this plane, and not all of them hairy, illiterate monsters. To see an actual, well-learned, well-mannered Sirian up close, with all the horrors they've been taught about Sirius since school... I can imagine the looks. This may take a while still, a generation at worst... But the Gauls will do as they are told, even if they'll moan and groan in doing so."
She had still not opened the pack of cigarettes he had handed back to her. She gazed at it, almost with surprise, and made no further motion.
"As for your question... You may guess that a lot of our plans in regards to the Core are strictly confidential. I could tell you that even I haven't been made aware of those plans, but that'd be a rather cheap lie." She chuckled. "I'll give you the broad strokes, for going through the effort of coming here at my request. The Core has never been much more than an economic partner based solely on opportunity. Gallia was desperate for resources, new horizons and possible friends, and the Core felt like a natural pick. The situation has evolved since then, we've found stronger and closer friends to aid us. Friends that aren't exactly keen on our Omicron-dwelling rabble... And now, this whole Omega 3 débâcle. So yes, the broad strokes ; we're not going to annex Imperium Omicronis just yet, but I'm not going to risk any Gallic life to save that of a Core agent, either. None of this is particularly sensitive, but I'm counting on you to keep it to yourself and no more than, say... three of your concubines."
Not skipping a beat, she slapped the table with the flat of her hand. "Right, I'm hungry. Would you have lunch with me ?"
(06-14-2019, 12:25 PM)Sombra Hookier Wrote: If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.
