"Oui" He mumbled as Lefevre began speaking. There was a slight pause where both stopped to take in the time to relax, taking in the much needed break. Gerald leaned back, picked up the truffe and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the flavors, the smells, and the simple time to relax.
Gerald understood the need for the treatment of the Sirian, but even so he was still slightly disgusted at what was going on. Still, it was better than the Sirian having free pass through Gallia, his home.
His Home.
Gerald loved Gallia and all it stood for. It was quite peaceful, excluding the inner wars, and he was able to live his life as a bartender himself. Then the Sirian came and screwed it all up. They destroyed a personal transport of his to give a very special shipment, causing massive economic problems for is little bar, and causing it to close down. Those rats, he thought, Non good, life wrecking-
Suddenly Gerald noticed he was getting worked up, calmed down and took a sip of coffee. The Brigadier Major started speaking just as Gerald got out of his thoughts. He nodded and sipped his coffee, taking in what the Major was saying.
"I think he may be a spy of some kind. Maybe delivering supplies to local Sirian infiltrators, or some type of special mission they gave him. These are far fetched ideas, but you can never know. Heck, the poor man might just be a smuggler." he laughed as he said the last part, somehow finding humour out of the statement. It was probably from being stuck in the interrogation room for so long.
