Lionel is restless, it seems like he hasn't slept in weeks waltzes into the Epernay Base bar. Although he usually does not drink he orders a cognac and he sees the ageing angry explosives expert.
Anzi Rachette? Je n'ai pas le temps pour les plaisanteries. Nice of you to join The Front, blah blah. Bottom line is, I have something for you to blow up. Something big. We will have several uninterrupted days to have Champagne undefended if our Lorraine plan goes well. We will tow what the Gallic cunts call space junk, but we call hope - entire decaying armada of Redemption class battleships from three separate fleets being dismantled there.
Now. One of them is the DeGrasse. The same DeGrasse that killed my entire family and all I knew at Mazagran, ceremoniously. I do not want it towed. I want it dead. I want it dead in a spectacular fashion after I walk on it's bridge one last time. I want it dead at an exact time right after our heist is complete. But I want it also dead in a way that obliterates it and the corporate and GN cunts but doesn't leave any hurling debris that could cause damage to Planet Marne, the bastion of Maquisard support within the populace.
Hell, if we have time we might tow it right next to the Mazagran Wreck, leave the crew to see it one more time before their existence gets ended so we can really go nuts with the yields.
It's a lot I ask of you, I don't want any bullshit, I just want to know if you can do it, how long until you can do it, and what supplies do you need from us.
He talked with passion like a machine gun, continuously looking over his shoulder to make sure nobody is near to hear what he just said in the dark corner of the almost empty bar. He abruptly stopped his frentic speech and started staring at the ageing Maquisard infront of him, waiting for an answer.
![[Image: 628720b925ef67a16ea2f1027051e01f.gif]](https://i.gyazo.com/628720b925ef67a16ea2f1027051e01f.gif)