Rillettes. Ezrael eyed the amiral, mirroring her actions. It was simply the easiest way of sticking to the etiquette. Sadly he wasn't sure what exactly to expect from this mass of flesh paste. He could only guess from the looks and the smell. Chanteloup applied it to the piece of bread, the latter looking and smelling way more inviting, if he was honest. There were only few things better than fresh bread. Then he eyed the salad, which was probably the one thing he prefered the most. Being a polite and nice guest, he didn't dare to do anything but mirroring his host. The dance shall be lead by her this time.
"Intelligence services..." He paused for a moment, sighing as he spread the rillettes on the bread on his plate. She wasn't wrong. "I believe this is something I can't deny, mon amiral, and this topic refreshes some rather unwanted memories. Surprisingly, however, it was less about the Apahanta when I had to deal with them, but more about my crew. My ship is home to people from all over Sirius, you see. Mostly people from Bretonia and Liberty, then a few Zoners, a few Rheinlandians, two Kusarians, a handful of people that joined me from groups like the Core. And of course four Curacaoans, including myself. These people come with backgrounds, sometimes even more, uh, colorful than mine. I can't deny this caused a shift of attention of some smaller and bigger intel agencies to the Apahanta. Although one could say these people are just excuses to ask uncomfortable questions, or even blackmail us."
At this point he paused again, not for rhetorical reasons but because he was considering taking a bite of the bread. But then he couldn't talk. And then he had to admit that he wasn't sure where to go with the conversation. He couldn't tell her about the SIS, 404 or the LSF. Although it was no secret that the LSF, on paper,killed his girlfriend Maren. On paper. When she wasn't secretly doing things for her blue friends, she was pretending to have a normal life on Baden Baden with her adopted daughter. Best not to cut the topic at all.
Facing the amiral again, he continued with his story. "Sad truth is that no fiction and conspiracy theories are too over the top to not be possibly true when it comes to intelligence agencies, and that is why I prefer to avoid them. While the idea of everyone being fully aware that most factions have spies on almost every station and planet and capital ship is hilarious, it changes the way you look at your own subordinates. It would be nice to trust each of them after all the things we've been through. All the conversations, little and big adventures, fights and ups and downs. But control is better than trust. As such I wouldn't be surprised on the houses keeping more than just an eye on us, and I don't believe it would be different the moment we set a proverbial foot into your space. There is nothing else to do about it then treating it with acceptance. If people really want to watch me shower, I'll make it a good show."
The fuck did I just say? "As long as the demanded services are within acceptable parameters, we will do it. My only condition would be to not get us involved in any possible combat scenario. There surely are better sellswords available to Gallia." Finally he could get to try this rillettes bread!
