Chanteloup mused on all that Vertiga was telling her. It was apparent that there was something significant he wasn't telling her about, or at least she felt that way. But she chose not to pursue this feeling, as she sensed nothing good or conclusive would come off it. She'd gathered enough, at this point.
"You'll forgive me, I'm sure, if from my perspective as leader of the most formidable and ruthless military force in mankind's history, I'll take your word about this order's omnipotence with copious amounts of salt. I know Sirius to be a strange place, however, and I understand your fears. I've heard of this Golanski character, he's the butt of a few jokes in our Sirian affairs bureau... The Omicrons seem to clearly be the silliest, most senseless place of all. Your earlier story about this Freeport whose number I forgot cements my belief about what little life seems to be worth over there. I understand why you ran away."
She bit into her comté with delight. It was probably a year old, and developed complex aromas. A joy to her experienced palate, that didn't take her mind off the conversation.
"Still, that you would be hunted down by people bought by this order right into my home tells me those people would need to be very much enticed. Bounty hunting in Gallia is a delicate affair... Unless you're Corsican. Or the Corsicans tolerate you, which... Yes. A significant risk, then, which in turn tells me this bounty must be nothing short of extravagant. More extravgant than is usually spent on mere mercenaries, or so I'd think... But what do I know about bounty hunting after all ?" she concluded, with a smile that could mean just about anything.
"Be that as it may. I don't plan on intruding in your personal life... That is, more than I already have. You can rest easy, as per bounties on my head ; most of Sirius and half of Gallia already wishes me dead. What could possibly go wrong ? Although I have no idea how much I'm worth... do you ?" She grinned for a moment, before returning to her usual seriousness.
"I understand living with a target on your back, but it seems we've chosen two different paths to face it. I do respect yours, but I hope, for your sake, that you'll be able to wind down at some point in this life. You have to show me this planet of yours, after all."
She chuckled, thinking back on his last sentence. "If you're feeling full now, wait until you see the dessert..."
As though on cue, once more (he was clearly good at this), the maître d'hôtel made another appearence. He addressed Chanteloup first, with a simple "Digestif ?" to which she replied "Un Armagnac".
He then turned to Vertiga, and, mindful of Chanteloup's intent stare, explained.
"Monsieur, with ze dessert, shall you desire un petit digestif ? We have many, monsieur. Perhaps Verveine, absinthe or Chartreuse, monsieur, if monsieur likes plants or minty taste. Or maybe the stronger Armagnac, Cognac or a Whisky, monsieur, to cleanse ze palette ? We do have a homemade eau-de-vie, here on Cordes, monsieur, if monsieur feels up to ze challenge..." he said dramatically.
(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.
