Stokes Station Bar and Information Exchange

[|nfrared]

Gervais Leonard sat at the table, analysing the data he had compiled. Taking another sip of the wine and looking where the Bretonian insignias had all been removed from the room, he nodded to himself. It had been a dangerous last few months gathering this data, getting the station up to scratch and using it as a forward post.

It had allowed the Gallic miners to extend their fingers just a little further into Bretonia and survey their natural resources. The Niobium field not far from the station was already being mined by GMS ships vigorously and yielding enough profit to keep the base running. The Dangerous Requisitions team was exploring a newly found jumphole and had come back with high quality gold ore. Terms like "Immense amounts" and "Possibly more than we could mine in a lifetime" were used in the initial survey report filed to the Presedente of their group, and the initial survey target of 20000 units had well been exceeded by now. And also the discovery that the operational smelter on Stokes could still yield Hull Panels at a reasonable cost for the Gallic Navy was an added bonus.

Now political support had boosted resources for the group and set higher targets. That meant money for escorts, ships and equipment, but also higher risks as the team pushed further into unknown territory. He had even taken on the role of Equipment Dealer on Stokes Smelter to boost his already ridiculous salary. He needed to gather the DRED team and inform them of the new developments on behalf of the Presedente, and bring them up to speed with the intel on nearby Bretonian systems. He sipped the fine Gallic wine again, savouring its taste, preparing himself for the others to arrive.

---

Shard - The Faceless One

[Stoner_Steve]

Sébastien Fétique entered the bar, his stature was imposing even for a Gallic. Originally working as the commodity trader at Indochine Outpost and nighttime patrolman he "traded up" to the Stokes Station Commodity Trader. But that was just his night job now. As pilot of the DRED|Archangel his normal duties now consisted of heavy escort missions, usually suicide runs into hostile territory for fabulous profit. The contracts were lengthy but the pay was excellent.

Sébastien went up to the bar and got a glass of wine before looking around and noticing Gervais at his table. He walked over greeted him as an old friend, "Bonjour Gervais, et has been a long time since we have run together no? Tell me, whats so valuable, or more likely, so dangerous that your willing to pay twice my normal rate for my ship and crew." He laughed and took a healthy measure of wine in one go. "Well Gervais, what mischief is hiding behind that grin this time? Let me take a guess, some Beryllium from under an outcasts nose?"
He paused and looked Gervais in the eye,
"What have you planned my friend, I see a lot of credits in your eyes."

---

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[Remnant]

A man looking to be in his late twenties enters the bar-like area, not exactly the most imposing figure, in fact, he looked rather scrawny for the most part. Glancing around the place, he doesn't seem to recognize anyone and merely takes a seat at one of the booths next to the window to space.

He did not appear as Gallic as those around him, although there does indeed to have a hint of the appearance around him. Waving a waitress to his table, he quietly speaks up. "Bonjour, Puis-je avoir un peu de vin?" Pausing a moment, repeating what he just said in English not knowing what to speak around here. "Bah.. Bad habit, may I have some Bergerac wine, if you have any in stock. I feel a craving of a sort."

Sitting back at the booth, his eyes wandering over the other occupants of the bar, wondering who he should be talking to right now. "Gallic businesses are always quite interesting.."

[Euca]

Aube entered the bar, energetic and excited. A quick browse of the bar reveals the standard shenanigans of Stokes taking place. A homely feeling takes over him as he casually approaches the bar.

"Bonjour, Bartender, I'll take the usual!" Within moments, a glass of fine Gallic Wine is handed to him. 'Fine' being the best type of liquid slop that they can get on the battlefront. He takes a moment to observes the mellow red drink before taking a sip.

"Uh, Aube, monsieur, I think that's the man you're looking for." The bartender says as he points towards the table with the innocent, scrawny man, all by his lonesome. Aube became startled, spitting his drink back into his glass and he began digging through his bag looking for his folder of assorted documents. He makes his hurried way to the table, throwing down the papers first, then taking a seat. After arranging his wide range of pencils, pens and metronome, Aube took another sip of his wine, then proceeded to speak.

"Monsieur Cliffton, oui?"

---

[Remnant]

Being kicked from his short-lived dreamland, he glances up at the man who has a seat in front of him, quickly taking in his appearance and nods slightly.

Swirling around the blood-red liquid in the glass he was holding, he bows his head for a moment before looking directly into the eyes of the newcomer.

"Bounjour, en effet that would be me. I assume you're the man I was told to meet here, hm?"

Despite his rather.. interestingly typed out application, he was by no means a slacker. Straightening his back against the back of the booth instead of slouching, he sets both of his hands on the table after setting his glass down, careful to keep eye contact for as long as this other man wished. A challenge, almost. Although only the playful may see it that way of course.

"How may I be of service."

[Euca]

Aube looked at the man, a sense of professionalism was alight in his eyes. He took a mental note.

"Oui! I am the person who you were told to meet! My name is Aube Plante and I will be taking on your application!"

Aube skimmed over the papers he had in his hand, a copy of the application complete with annotations, a company protocol sheet and a questions sheet. He looked back at the man.

"Well, you can be of service by first formally introducing yourself!"

---

[Remnant]

Chuckling quietly to himself. Wasting no time to get to business? Well, at least he had his priorities straight and did not allow himself to get sidetracked.

"Oui, my name is Jessie Cliffton. Not a Gallic name I suppose, although I admit when someone thinks that it is a problem, I quickly understand not to bother dealing with said other person. However, I see simple trivialities such as a name is not too much of a bother to yourself, which I commend."

Pausing a moment, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry, I should be letting you do your interview, rather than rambling off on other subjects. I believe you have the rest of the information in your hand if I am understanding this correctly. It's nice to meet you monsieur Plante."

Calmly taking a sip of his wine. His take on interviews was quite double-sided. Equally judging the character in front of him, as he is being judged himself. It's how he has managed to stay out of corporations which merely wanted to use an extra head, instead of take them in as a well-treated employee. So far? This other man seemed quite interesting.

[Euca]

Aube chuckled somewhat at the man's sophisticated tone. The name was certainly not Gallic, but it didn't matter, names are just names after all. He took a moment to take in the information, grabbing the interview by the reigns again.

"Monsieur Cliffton, I admire your way of ignoring smaller things, such as names. Really, it's quite intelligent and makes you look mature!" Aube took another sip of his wine, the foul war-front taste being apparent. He put down the glass again.

"Mhm, I just so happen to have much of the information in my hands right here! Sharp, clever, intelligent! Well, I guess I'll begin some of the questions then.

Monsieur, tell me, what were you before this job? A lone ranger? A independent bad boy? A curious locksmith? Please, do tell!"

---

[Remnant]

Giving him a blank look for a second, before beginning to laugh quietly.

"Ahh, now that is quite an interesting question, one that I must simplify in order to save time. Before I decided to inquire of the specific groups which can offer me a place within society, I spent most of my time in front of a console screen working on simulations. I will not lie to you, I am not that fond of people. In the past, I have worked on running simulations of mass-data gathering systems, more commonly known as the sensor systems of the spacecraft we fly around today."

Finishing off his drink, setting it on the table to the left of him carefully.

"I have been able to make a few advancements, granted I admit they are quite small and could not be used in anything large-scale yet, although being an issue, gallic francs were not something that I was able to come along too well. In result, I have decided to take up my mental prowess with a group of people who could perhaps appreciate such a thing."

Taking a moment to arrange his thoughts in his head once more.

"I will be blunt. I am not a pilot. I have never been good at being a pilot, and I don't plan on fixing that anytime soon. It does not appeal to me. If this will be an issue, please tell me. If not, i'd love to continue with this finespun interview that you have dictated so far."

[Euca]

Aube listened to the man with a great amount of attention. When he finished, Aube put down the question sheets and spoke somewhat bluntly back.

"Oh, you thought piloting and social skills were necessary? Non, we have no requirement of that, you'll be diving head first into the warzones to mine precious minerals. Not even experienced pilots could handle that, you'll be fine."

Aube thought for a moment before continuing.

"Sensor research is important, that means you can be too. We need more tech savvy people on this Division anyway. Really, we aren't too picky, you'll do fine."

Aube looked over the last 2 questions he had left, noticing that Cliffton had already answered them, he went into a slight panic.

I knew we had to generate more questions! he thought to himself, I am not adequately trained for this!

"Well, uh, monsieur Cliffton..." Aube's words became somewhat fractured as he thought of another question to ask to kill some time.

"...uh, what is your favorite colour?!" He exclaimed in a stressed panic.

---