The Lionness of Brittany

[Arioch]

Part 1

A women collapsed breathless. Unable to comprehend what she just read, a letter falls to the ground. Such a simple thing, a letter. A written note on paper, instead of a comm to her datapad. Such meaning behind words written by hand. More heart and feeling. Yet at this moment, the woman cared not. For the words written were not of heartfelt feeling, but of pain and sadness...

Dear Jeanne,

I am so sorry, but I risk not a open communication to you at this time. Your husband, Oliver was killed. He was gunned down above Planet Paris. I don't know more madame. Forgive me. May you find peace...

For what seemed like an eternity, she lay there. Not moving and staring into the distance. How could this happen. To the man I loved who's only crime was to love others. She thought to herself over and over again. When her strength overcame her sorrow, her mind was not the same. Her pain had engulfed her and tormented her feelings to oblivion. She did not how to feel, and felt as if a child lost in the world. As she moved silently through her home she once shared with her beloved husband, the memories she thought would help her reclaim a lingering hope were lost. All that remained was the reminder that her life was taken from her, her serenity destroyed.

She found herself staring intently into a mirror, searching for something. She just stared, her eyes locked with the reflection. It was as if she was staring into a reflection of her former self. Who am I she thought. Who am I now. How can life continue with so much lost.... Such thoughts infected her mind for weeks which turned into months.

Months turned to years of such state of mind that she thought she would never escape. Until that day. The day when her sorrow turned to anger, her sadness to hatred. When her desire to disappear became a desire to hunt and be known. She awoke as the sound of laser fire screamed and sizzled through the air in the courtyard of her home. Someone was storming her home, leaving behind a trail of destruction behind them. As she ran to the balcony, a gasp of air entered her body and her eyes fixed on one place. An old friend, adorned with the garb of a naval capitaine, held in his grasp her maid servant, a girl of but 20 years old. "Madame Clisson, ah good to see you again. It has been too long. I have made a personal ambition to find you after all this time. Your husband did a fine job in hiding any traces of his personal attachments, including his wife, from even his once close friends. But, bien... My personal search has been fruitful." With that, her maid's head shot to the side and her lifeless body fell to the ground, with the capitaine never leaving his gaze off Jeanne. "You husband died as a coward, worse than this pathetic girl. He disowned his honor, and spat upon his people. He died like the dog he became. You should have seen it Jeanne. His screams filling the comms as our ships blasted him to oblivion, In fact, I have a present for you." With those words spoken, he pressed a couple buttons on the datapad hanging from his waist, and her datapad in the room blared to life, with the screams of her husband heard clearly. His screams only cut off by the sound of laughter over the recorded comms from the pilots and capitaines of the Naval ships. "I've come to ensure that traitor's legacy is completely wiped from the history books. You are the last piece that I can wipe away."

From a broken girl with hope lost, came what can only be described as a demon possessing a body. With a flick of her hand, she snatched a ceremonial blade that was atop the table on the balcony, and with a blur of fabric from her clothes, she flew through the air as a falcon diving for it's prey. As the arms of the officer went to raise his gun, the blade gripped in Jeanne's hand was embedding it's way into his skull. His body crumpled into a heap of lifelessness. One could say no one survived that day, and that the girl Jeanne was lost. They would be wrong. She was only born anew. Picking up the datapad from his lifeless body, she learned all she needed to regarding her husbands death. Images that forever are seared into her head. His capture by the GRN, his "trial" if one could call it that, and his brutal murder as he was powerless to stop it. With a burning desire of vengeance against those who murdered her husband, she sold the Clisson lands, including the Brittany Estate, as well as all the possessions from her previous life. A life of joy and peace, of love and hope. That life had ended, and a new life began.

Learning that pieces of her husband's ship adorning parts of Versailles Residence, she knew where her first target would be. Docking on Versailles, and using her still untainted status as an aristocrat to gain clearance within the public parts of the station, she sought out Richard Arseneau. He was a noble who was loyal to the crown and an old friend of Oliver. He was also recorded as to having turned in information to the Royals of Oliver's involvement with members of the Council. As she entered into the north wing of Versailles, she walked through the decadent halls adorned with art of ancient history. Finding his door, and a flick of her finger that sent a program to fry the locking mechanism on his door, she entered the main room of his residence. A startled Arseneau rose from his seat and turned to face the sound of door opening. A moment later, the glass of wine struck the floor, shattering and spreading the wine as if blood spreading from an open wound. Soon after, the head of Arseneau fell to the ground, slowly followed by his corpse. The sword in Jeanne's hand had but a drop of blood from the clean cut that severed his head. A smile crept onto her face, as if a hint of joy was rekindled within her body...

"As a lion stalks her prey, so shall you be hunted. I will find you all, and I will make you suffer."

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