Hemlocke turned his gaze to Garcia, he didn't respond with a smirk of his own, his face remaining emotionless as his crimson left eye gazed over the clearly less intelligent of the two brothers. He simply stared, holding eye contact with Garcia as if he was about to draw, seeing the challenge behind his warning. At least until Ashwood lay her metal claw on Hemlocke's shoulder to distract him, the Rogue sneered in disgust at Garcia, focusing his attention on Carlos who embodied the smell of Hacker-like superiority.
"They are our allies, and they are Amelia's men, keep a lid on it.""Yes, I am well aware."
[PIERCE'S OWN CRUISER DRUNKEN SAILOR, THE NONSENSE FACTORY, GALILEO]
Pierce is an old and mostly lonely Rogue, who keeps the Remnant of the one of the oldest Rogue packs. The pack itself now only shows its worst days without many Rogues and abilities to compete with the more successful packs, but the Pierce is sure that the day of the Rogue Pack risen will arrive soon. After receiving the message, Pierce was on his own Scylla-class Ship - "Drunken Sailor". He took the invitation and move towards Ames, Kepler system.
[AMES, KEPLER]
After Drunken Sailor jumped into Kepler and flew right into the Matsuo cloud. He left his ship there and launched his Barghest from the Scylla. At the Ames, Pierce saw the Research Station with a couple of the Outcast ships. Pierce Requested to dock at Ames, took the finest booze he had on his ship. Pierce got the transmission only after the meeting has begun, but managed to shortly arrived. With the booze and the gun, he landed on the station checked the docking bays quickly, and found the Representatives. The representatives were consists of the various Outcast, Golden Chrysantem groups, and Rogue representative from the other pack.
"Ahoy there seems like Pierce is late for da meeting, hope this finest booze can soft mine lateness." The booze was contained various drinks from the southern parts of Liberty, Northern bars of Rheinland, some drinks were from the Mollys, and even some Sake."Wanna drink?" He put the booze on the table, took the Frankruft's dark, and took a sit, where it was possible in the docking bays.
Willie found some space between one of the hangar bay doors and a pair of cargo containers to light up a cigarette without disturbing the big-wigs walking through from their ships. Pulling his left arm out from the shadow of a catwalk ladder, he covered the end of a plasma lighter to protect it from a non-existent wind. He was a righty, but smokes were always a one-off Bunn reminded him of daily in the scrap fields.
As he inhaled and let the plasma flame disburse before kicking the cover on top, he pulled a data pad out of his coat pocket and took a hard look at the image on the screen. Watching the backs of the crowd gathering in front of him, he didn't see anything advertising itself as a match for the folks he was looking for. From a distance, he could see the subtle revealing gestures to briefly-flashed sidearms. He chuckled a little to himself as he exhaled through clinched teeth.
You gon' look again, som'a dem trick-ass marks gonna be pullin' out measurin' tapes n'callin' demselves "tripod."
He crossed his feet and leaned against the wall to his left. With folded arms, he reached out and pulled the cigarette from his lips before letting the smoke drift from his mouth.
Billy stepped off the Voyager freighter he had contracted to drop him off at Ames Research Station, breathing in the stale air of the station. The MCS-Nightmare was stationed in Gallileo, away from the prying eyes of the assortment of capital ship assets located near Ames. Between the Outcasts and her allies the amassed forces rivaled that of a small Libertonian battlegroup, which concerned Billy. This much activity is sure to spark attention by the Libertonian and Kusari Governments. Shaking off the thought, Billy moved through the station to the meeting hall.
As he approached the meeting space Billy instinctively went to the pistol on his hip, unconsciously verifying that the sidearm was indeed still in its holster. In his days as a Vagrant Raider he knew these meetings could often go south, and had no reason to walk in unarmed. Concealing his weapon with the leather jacket he was wearing, he entered and quickly took in the sight. Two heavily armed GC groups stared at each other with daggers in their eyes, while the contingent of what could only be Liberty Rogues offered a box of what Billy assumed where the spoils of piracy to a representative of Hispania Imperial.
Moving to the bar area, Billy ordered a drink and kept to himself, content with watching the crowd.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
It was not even five minutes into the gathering and Eliza was already seeing why meetings such as this one were a rather rare sight. And whatever amusement there was on her face quickly disappeared when Valdez heard her name being mentioned by one of the Chrysanthemums. So much from staying out of the spot light it seemed. The orange haired Outcast closed her eyes and gave out a long exhale before looking down at her hip where a regular Detroit Munitions pistol stood ready. Out there in the cold vacuum of space it was her element, but down here on the station she didn't feel comfortable heading into a huge shootout, not one bit. She swallowed down with discomfort as if she was swallowing her own anxiousness and took a few steps forward.
"I would prefer it that if we end up plastering the walls with our brains we don't do it right here. I always pictured myself dying somewhere... nicer." she paused for a moment as her eyes darted across the room. The tension was definitely there, the whole meeting was a keg bomb just begging for that little spark to ignite it all into a huge explosion that would amuse the station bound Xenos and their supporters to no end. "So how about we get going with this little meeting of ours before somebody loses their nerve, makes a big mess and ruins the janitor's day?" Perhaps there was some wisdom in old man Muerte's decision to cease attending such meetings.
Zane closes the terminal. The Outcasts want everyone there. His friends, his rivals. Kato in his usual manner starts thinking, mulling over how he should present himself at the meeting. His ego yearns for recognition, to be admired and recognised by all. To show the pack that he never trusted that his new family he built - The Raiders - are now above them. He thinks back to the Outcast's own Sicario board where his feats were surpassed by only one Rogue - some Pierce he barely met once in passing. He thinks of the recent suicide run where he proved the worth of The Raiders. His whole body is tingling with the yearning to throw his pack's successes into his rival's faces.
And yet...he grasps control of his thoughts. Consciousness over feeling, he observes and lets his urges flow. No, this is not the way. There is no victory in being boastful. Silence and humility, quiet dominance, that's what what he should strive for. Before his rivals know what hit them The Raiders will control The Liberty underworld itself.
As he makes his way from Fortaleza he convinces himself that this is the strategy. Find out what the rival packs are up to while revealing little to further The Raider cause while holding his cards close to his vest. Build contacts with The Cardamine lords so they eventually entrust him the most. Figure out what The Chrysanthemums are up to - what have they been doing on The Raider turf with their new bizzare concoction. Whether he should bring up the Technocratic freaks trying to make The Rogues their whores for measly amounts of money.
With a quiet yet determined demeanour The Crimson Raider arrives.
A grey speck followed by an aggressive orange contrail, closing in fast. Once the ZCT-14 Magpie got close enough to the base, it decelerated with reckless abandon pinging the tower for docking clearance. The ship itself looks brand new for the most part. Factory standard two-seater cockpit, an assortment of fighter weaponry, a fresh coat of paint with a Sisterhood of light insignia. Differences started showing when it came to the engines. Safety limits and loose tolerances completely ignored. The vessel landed with a painful groan instead of the usual careless whisper. A picturesque definition of "speed".
Inside, sat Nyoko. Her orders were rather simple. Wait in the hangar and act as a getaway driver if needed. A task that suited her just fine. In her experience politics always ended with her having to repair more ships, leaving less time for her own projects. She heard what happened at a previous meeting, and shootouts were not on her list of things to do.
In short, keep the engines warm and look out for trouble.
After having watched her Matriarch set off from the freighter one of gen'an operatives took a further sweep of the docks and took note of the condition of the docks to be assured no tampering had occured to the local area."Well atleast this station is well maintained"
Shrugging to adjust her suit she approached back to the freighter and took notice of another vessel with markings she had only seen holo images of. "Sisterhood of light..." she grunted and clutched her carbine closer to the chest and made pace back to the freighter.
As Montes' Sabre arrived at Ames he had to shake his head at how quickly subtlety was thrown out the window in favor of an armada of ships parked outside the No-Fire-Zone. Once inside the station he gave his sidearm one last check before he placed it back in the holster on his leg and rapped his knuckles against the body armor he was hiding beneath his hoodie reassuringly. Feeling a little more confident now he pulled himself out of his ship and went to go and see just who exactly had shown up.
As he arrived at the area where the representatives were he cast a quick and rather surprised glance at Pierce before making his way over to join Hemlocke and Ashwood.
"Hey Boss, hope I am not too late, I was in the middle of hitting a convoy in Cortez when I got the call. Didn't miss anything interesting did I?"
His voice was almost a whisper as he looked over the rest of the crowd feeling somewhat out of place with his simple jacket and hoodie combo, his jeans and well-worn work boots and certainly feeling out gunned as he noticed the firepower the Chrysanthemums had rolled in with. An unwelcome reminder of the stories from last time the present parties had all gathered together.
Taking Carlos' words into consideration, Alexandra decided to put an end to the childish situation, speaking loudly enough for most people in the landing bay to hear.
"Amigos and amigas, we'll do this the simple way. All representatives will be permitted to carry a sidearm, and 2 of your most trusted escorts into the conference room per party."
As she looked around, seeing more people arrived, she noticed that some even lacked personal escorts.
"Although as I see, some of us seem to actually have faith in our alliance, and not bring a whole army to ensure 'nothing goes wrong'. Nevertheless, my previous statement stands. I hope we can consider this 'childish' matter closed. In case someone has a problem with that, participation at the talks isn't mandatory, and I'm sure they know the way out."
Even though her patience was already running thin, she had plenty of others to greet, one even approached her while she was dealing with the GC reps, leader of the currently most powerful Rogue pack, Hemlocke. She decided to take some distance so she can greet him and his attaché without the others 'hearing' them, though the Ortegas remained at her side.
"Señores and señoritas, señor Hemlocke, it's nice to finally meet in person. I apologize for this little...'incident', I guess some people don't know how to behave themselves, nor where they 'stand', if you get my meaning."
Finally having the time to take a closer look at the 'gifts' they brought, she was rather impressed.
"Your gifts are much appreciated, but rather unnecessary, although the irony of you actually being so considerate compared to the others is rather adorable. Nevertheless, I have still a few individuals to meet, and we are still waiting for the Lane Hacker's representative to arrive. If that'd be all, you know where to find me, or perhaps there's something you need right now ?"
Seeing the overall impatience of the guests, it was obvious she was in a hurry, though not that much to show disrespect towards others.
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