Second Time's the Charm

[Fernand]

Premise

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Ever since Fernand was sent on his fool's errand, he was afraid to pick up the still-stained pager he got from the scary Madame. Her terrifying presence had left a traumatic effect on the poor drug mule, so much so that he preferred to fly the unknown vaccums of Sirius - being a Gaul-born - it was a temporary solution to a lingering problem. In his adventures he managed to trade his battered Tarvos to a Cormorant-type armored transport due to a Junker antiquary he met on Thunder Bay Depot. Hesistant at first but later found out to be a reliable and sturdy vessel, it would also negate the fact that Fernand would need to revist Gallia to supply himself on engine-appropiate fuel. But flying around Sirius aimlessly was not a fruitful endeavor, despite discovering many neutral stations that would be fundamental for spreading Nox throughout Sirius - all in the name of profit. He decided to take the brave step and return to the seat of the Minarchy - Provence, it was also due to the fact he was out of Nox to sell.

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Planet Marseilles - 29/06/827 - Dusk

Fernand felt relieved he was back at home, despite never being an inhabitant of this system - it was Gallia nonetheless. Blueish hues ranging from teal, cyan, and indigo was all that he could feast his eyes on, making the seventy-kilometer cruise to Marseilles go by in a flash. Landing on Marseilles the first thing that he did was head to the closest fast-food booth to get himself a tuna baguette, a mark of Gallic cuisine for the commonfolk. Devouring the sandwich with double-bites, barely coming out to breathe for air, one would think this man didn't eat for the entire duration of his outdoor hike to Sirius. Wiping his sauce-riddled face, the warm climate and vast views of Gallic outdoors would make Fernand get encapsuled in their beauty - until he came to.

"Merde.. I can't stay here any longer than I should." He chatted to himself. Taking out the PDA given to him by his employer - he'd stare at it until he came to the decision to throw it over the fence and into the ocean. A bold and risky move, figured he could leave planetside before any of Cartier's lackeys show up. Wasting no time, he jogs to the loading bays to reach a complex with towering giants for containers, surrounding it from all sides but the entrance. "Papieurs, sil vous plait." asks the guard. No problem for Fernand, but the check required for his passport to be identified by a scanner - no doubt linked to a database. This is where Fernand's paranoia clicked in, knowing the Corse's reputation and Cartier's prestige, they would have their goons spying and tracking those databases, especially with him being on the scopes. Again, he wastes no time and reaches inside to find the manager so that he could deal in the illicit goods, an exchange of words, credits, and gestures - Fernand is already outside with a cargo-bot full of Nox following him to the launch pad. What felt like fifteen or even twenty minutes was actually a rather speedy five, after he checked his watch, a droplet falls on it, he's anxious and sweaty. Entering the cockpit and ignitioning the vessel and pressing the button to hiss out the cargo-bay doors, he steps back out to signal the bot to unload the cargo. A few moments later - a gunshot.
"Merde, merde, MERDE!" Panic and terror fills his entire body. "She's here!", he bursts out-loud, Madame Cartier's image still taunts him, failing to respond to her would definitely make her mad, that is, if at all she cared in the first place. He'd start picking up the cargo-packets from the cargo-bot to speed up the process, fumbling some packets out of his hands due to his shaky composure. Finally, he'd sprint out the Cormorant's cargo-bay, pressing the close button after him, which would also leave the cargo-bot stuck there, poor feller. But when he took the turn towards his ship's broadside - a gun to the face - was all that would meet him. A second passes for the frozen victim and he instinctively he raises his hands, and gulps his last gulp, he can't even see the aggressor's face because a dark cylinder is all that he could see.