Stormclouds Gather

[Jayce]

---

The communications channel was overtaken by static, a grating hiss filling the bridge of her Taureau before Yolande switched the system off. Turning to face her still-pale daughter, the loving smile she had worn previously slipped into a displeased scowl. Her sweet voice soon turned to a sour hiss as she addressed the much-younger woman.

"I will not allow a petulant child to destroy what I've worked for, Marie. You will remain on the ship, complètement silencieux, until I say otherwise." Turning, stiletto heels clacked against the deck, sounding much more vicious than previous. "Perhaps, someday, you will learn enough to assume my position. I suspect that day will not come for a long while. Nettoyez-vous." With a swish of her dress, Yolande departed the bridge for the cargo hold.

"B-bien sûr, maman..." Marie squeaked out her pathetic reply, long after Yolande had departed earshot. With trembling hands, she spurred the Taureau forward, before bucking the ship to the side, opposite the direction of the Scylla, and began to extend the docking collar. It was a maneuver she'd completed hundreds of times, but with the raw adrenaline coursing through her, the task took longer than usual. Many years had passed since the prodigal daughter had truly suffered the wrath of her mother, and it was an experience she would prefer not to repeat. On rainy days, the scars still ached.

Yolande's regal stroll morphed to a purposeful trot as she descended to the expansive hold of the vessel. Much of the interior was occupied by reinforcing braces and auxiliary shield generators, installed on the off-chance diplomacy failed. They had long since gone unused, her oratory skills honed to a degree that permitted negotiations among both ne'er-do-wells and upstanding citizens, without an ensuing firefight. Still, they inspired a degree of self-assurance, and much of her business hinged solely on projecting a confident air. As she entered the hold, the heavy bootfalls of a companion soon joined her own delicate stride. Without even a glance, Yolande began to address the new arrival.

"Marie is going to be the death of me, Arnaud." Gone was the angry tone she had taken with her daughter, her voice returning to its neutral state. Approaching a climate controlled crate, she beckoned for her partner to unseal it. As he did so, the bulky ex-Royal Police guardsman cocked his head at the older woman, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I very much doubt that, madame. I suspect you'll be dying of nothing but natural causes, at home on Marseilles, many years from now." Fishing a small, wooden box emblazoned with a blind Moor from the crate, Yolande held out a hand, relieving her friend of it, before tucking the box under one arm. Turning away, Arnaud quickly resealed the container, before offering a deep, reverent bow to his employer. "I would wish you the best of luck, if I knew you believed in it."

"You know my thoughts on the subject, Arnaud." Yolande spoke quietly, approaching the entrance to the docking tunnel. A single yellow light shone above it, indicating that the connection was establishing the appropriate interior pressure. Moments later, it turned to a vibrant green, illuminating the cargo bay. Taking a step forward, the airlock door cycled, then opened with a hiss, revealing an empty tunnel directly to the Rogue vessel. Adjusting her posture just slightly, Yolande began to stroll across, leaving Arnaud alone in the bay once more.

"I do. Je provoque ma propre chance."

---

---