Infiltrating the annexation - stage I - planning.

[Nika]

---

De Belmond hopped on her Lynx and left Le Cendre's hangar, and left for the open space; despite the front line being roughly one lane away, at the New London's high orbit - the area around Southampton wreck was relatively quiet - except occasional Bretonian patrols, that were destined to never return to it's base of operations, only delaying the inevitable.
The Normandie-class battleship, that have returned an identification sign of Téméraire, have as well been present on the scene, with it's graceful imposing lines, on the watch in the direct vicinity of York - a symbol of Marine Royale triumph.

"Enseigne de vaisseau Emilie-Sophie de Belmond to Téméraire bridge, requesting immediate docking permission. Amiral de Chanteloup is expecting my visit."

It took a couple moments of silence on the Téméraire side to process the request properly - perhaps, the bridge officers have been assessing the received request and inquiring, possibly, to the Amiral herself if the permission should be granted and Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup have indeed been expecting someone.
The answer have been received and returned to the lieutenant shortly.

"Enseigne de vaisseau de Belmond, you have been granted the permission to dock, proceed to hangar bay 32-14, deck 2. You are suggested to head straight for the bridge."

Shorty after, the vessel have occupied the designated hangar, processed engine shutdown and left the cockpit, leaving the helmet behind. Her rank did not give her plenty of opportunities of visiting these parts of the Normandie-class battleships, it would take a while for her to rise through the ranks to have her own Valeur. Aimed for perfection, de Belmond have also been patient.
For now - she simply walked through the corridors and elevators, that steadily brought her to the bridge - the automated doors shut open when approached, Emilie-Sophie took a few more steps ahead, stopping and addressing the one who sent her the invitation to visit the bridge of Téméraire - Amiral Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup stood before her in person.

"Mon amiral, vous avez demandé ma présence - et je suis arrivé."

---

---

Peace, being the distant dream it is, comes inevitably, and goes hand in hand with justice.
Cursed be the war.

Heroes never die! @Vitoniz30 @Connor

[Lanakov]

Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup looked at her watch. She was doing it a lot, these days. Though clearly antiquated devices, there was something to the mechanical passing of the time that utterly fascinated her. Time had always been her life. But these days, it felt like there was never any time. That there would be no time, or maybe that the time had come.

Tic, toc, went the watch.

Beep beep, went the automatic doors as they swooshed open, and the enseigne de vaisseau Belmond made her entrance. Chanteloup nodded curtly at her.

"Belmond. About bloody time. Come, it appears we need to talk." She stared at her aide-de-camp, who took the lead and walked them to the Téméraire's conference room. Above the door to the room stood, in bright white letters, the ship's motto. Thus I strike. Ainsi je frappe.
The aide stood by the door. Chanteloup marched inside, not waiting to be motioned in, and went to sit at the far end of the oval table. She beckoned Belmond to do the same, and stared once again at her aide, who bolted out of sight.

"So, Belmond. It appears I have a problem that you can solve. Let's hear how" she said in a tone that was not especially harsh but certainly not warm, either.

---

Feedback, insults, marriage proposals and declarations of fealty

If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.

[Nika]

---

My Admiral. - a generic, respectful greeting followed by a short nod. The lieutenant followed de Chanteloup to the conference room and sat by her side, pulling out a small datapad, that apparently contained all the plans Emilie-Sophie had in mind.
Taking the seat and projecting the image of Omega-49 3D map to float above the table, the visitor finally started to elaborate her plan.

As you probably already know - Bretonia, in her utter desperation, invaded and annexed the neutral system of Omega-49, and it's only habitable planet - Gran Canaria. This is confirmed by multiple sources, which include a transmission intercepted by our Intelligence branch in Dublin, and my own observations, as well as information from the eyewitness of these events.
Immediately as the news reached my ears - i have put plenty of effort into contacting the representatives of local folks. The effort was successful, and i got in touch with Jejard Voncloud - an individual apparently related to the resistance cells that are forming on the Gran Canaria's surface... oui, the locals were not exactly happy about Bretonian marines invading their home.

A short pause is held, de Belmond soon resumes her speech.

First of all - i would like to request Voncloud to be present aboard Temeraire during the rest of our discussion - his information and willingness to cooperate is invaluable. Above sharing the information with Marine Royale - he promised to arrange us a neutral transport, which is invaluable for my plan. Let us get to it, however...

... It has to be executed now - or never, and as soon as possible, while the resistance cells are still being formed on the planet.
While most of our resources are occupied on the local theater and we can not really spare much - a small group of marines dispatched under the neutral insignia and under the firm control and in touch with all other groups will still be sufficient to act to slowly but steadily dent the Bretonian grasp and to hinder their attempts to extract whatever value the planet holds. While we will be holding the Bretonia in a suppressed state on the surface - we'd have to rely on our Corsair allies to deal with Battlegroup Stirling. As far as my information is correct - Zoners of Gran Canaria and Corsairs have a long standing protection agreement. We could use this.

---

---

Peace, being the distant dream it is, comes inevitably, and goes hand in hand with justice.
Cursed be the war.

Heroes never die! @Vitoniz30 @Connor

[Lanakov]

Chanteloup observed Belmond's datapad with curiosity, her fingers joined together and pressed again her lips. Her brow furrowed at the mention of inviting a Zoneur aboard her ship, but she said nothing - yet - as the enseigne went on. By the end of it, the amiral sat back, evaluating, considering possibilities, formulating a plan of action. She remained silent as her mind raced around this issue and the many ways in which it might develop. Then she stood up, and silently walked up to the painting that adorned the back of the conference room - another Vernet, at her request.

She faced it in silence, her hands joined behind her back. Then, at last, she spoke.
"Have you heard of the legend of the Stinger, I wonder, lieutenant ?" Not expecting a reply, she went on. "It's an Old Earth myth. Ancestors of the Libertonians were, at one point in history, eager to fight off the invasion of a neutral House by the Coalition. They wanted to accomplish this without committing their own forces and thus chose to arm the local peasantry with sophisticated weaponry, chief among which the Stinger missile. The tale describes it as a legendary weapon, strong enough to defeat the most advanced armaments employed by the Coalition at the time. The results were beyond the Libertonians' wildest dreams : the peasants added unexpected bravery and valour to their fearsome armaments, and thus retained their freedom."

She paused, reflecting with some melancholy on the first time she'd been told this tale.

"Not being vastly different from their contemporary cousins, the Libertonians eventually succumbed to greed and decided to plunder this small nation they had so graciously helped in the past. A rural, uneducated yet rich population would be a trifle to defeat with their uncomparable might, they thought, blinded as they were by the lure of easy coin. So much so that they failed to heed the Coalition's example, made the same mistakes and suffered the same defeats... At the hands of that very Stinger missile they had given the peasants for free only a few years before."

She turned to face Belmond. "As any good tale, this one has a moral. I've often thought about it, from the very day I heard it first, until even now. One of the things I've drawn from it is this : friendship can turn into a very dangerous thing indeed." She barked one of her sinister laughters. As if on cue, her aide de camp entered with two coffees. He left a cup with Belmond and the other one next to her, ahead of the empty seat, and scurried away. "Think on this tale, Belmond. Draw from it. I know it doesn't exactly mirror our present situation, but I find a great deal of... interesting parallels that should be taken into consideration, particularly in how committed we choose to be towards the Zoneur tribes" Chanteloup said, as she walked back to the table and sat down, lured by the dark and strong-smelling coffee.

She brought the cup to her lips then fixated her gaze on the enseigne. "Your plan is a good one. It's a good match for what the situation needs, and what we can spare. Congratulations ! You're now at the head of Task Force Tamaran. I am giving you carte blanche to accomplish its stated goal, which is, like you said, to hinder and repulse Bretonian influence on Gran Canaria wherever possible. You will stay within the perimeter of our mandate, which excludes direct action in this system. You will locate and coordinate any willing associate, Gallic, Corsair, Zoneur, anyone that can be used to carry out this operation. And you will report directly to me. It's one putain de task, especially for one so green as you, but you've not failed me so far. It would be in poor taste to start now."

As if it only now returned to her mind, she added briskly : "Oh, and get this Voncloud character on board this ship if you really think he can serve some purpose. If he starts pissing on my carpets, as I heard Zoneurs do to mark their territory, it'll come out of your pay."

---

Feedback, insults, marriage proposals and declarations of fealty

If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.

[Nika]

---

Commitment to these Zoners is not really the case. Not now, at least. - De Belmond tilted her head, picking up the cup and taking a small sip of it. The hot drink left behind a pleasant warmth, and a bitter aftertaste - no one seemed to bother to put in some sugar.
It's not that it would be polite of a guest to complain about such irrelevant things. Newly minted capitaine puts the cup aside, quietly exhaling. - It is about giving another blow to the Bretonians, one that will seal their downfall. Undoubtedly, we will have to work together with the local resistance cells. Not to mention that my initial attempts to gather some information around the planet revealed various corsair inter-factions greatly aligned to this precious world. Assigning them to assist us in resolving this issue might as well come in handy.

The young officer pondered for a while, keeping the room perfectly silent - taking into consideration the story just told; being another despicable exemplar of humanity's commitment to the sin of greed, consumer attitude to something they've grown with their own hands - only to brutally ravage, putting their own efforts in vain, murdering their own kind just because of the far-fetched differences.

Desperation. Greed. Fake accusations of being a terrorist's nest - is what plaguing that precious, peaceful world, now flooded with barbarians of all kinds, feasting on it's riches and disposing of those opposing them. Should these Zoners prove themselves valuable - we should leave Gran Canaria in it's initial state - friendly, but independent.

The Zoners, on the contrary to Bretonia, have showed a certain degree of will to cooperate, to preserve the independence of their home, to protect what is valuable to them. Capitaine smiled, tilted her head, quickly returning to her serious attitude. There was no place for emotions on this briefing.

Parallels are obvious. Bretonia have never hand-fed Gran Canaria to raise it into something, with only a handful of Bretonian colonies present planetside. It have never belonged to them as a whole, and housed plenty of different people on it's surface, that managed to live in peace, without infighting. It was a peaceful world, protected with the might of the Corsairs from any outstanding threats.

The hologram have changed it's shape, showing planet Gran Canaria's image floating above the conference room table while De Belmond quickly tapped the screen of her datapad, sending a word to her zoner acquaintance. He was granted permission to face de Chanteloup, his presence, to an extent, was demanded and necessary.

No one is allowed to turn their safe haven into an incantation of pure chaos. We are to stand against the tyrants, desperate in their hour of doom, feasting on the innocent. There we go... - she mumbled the end of the phrase to herself, putting the datapad aside.
It should not be long until monsieur Voncloud's arrival. We might as well enjoy our coffee while we wait.

---

---

Peace, being the distant dream it is, comes inevitably, and goes hand in hand with justice.
Cursed be the war.

Heroes never die! @Vitoniz30 @Connor

[Aazalot]

Once the Signal was given Voncloud docked with the Téméraire, flying his Osprey the "Cloudskimmer" it wasn't his usual signature Eagle he had decided it may be a little too scruffy looking for such a visit the Osprey was very much an example of Zoner Engineering. After being granted landing inside the Téméraire Von surrendered himself to the scrutiny of the Security crew who proceeded with the usual checks being scanned for any offensive items and concealed weapons which they would find none. His usual pistol was tucked away inside the cockpit of the Cloudskimmer. Being given the all clear he gets escorted to the conference room where Belmond and Chanteloup were waiting.

He looked at the double doors of the conference room before taking a deep breath, this was the furthest into the Gallic world he had ever been, never even visiting Gallia himself. He checks his inside pocket before walking through the doors adorned in a long Navy Blue Double Breasted coat a shirt underneath and smart trousers with polished ankle boots, after all he had to make a good impression. He adjusts his fully tinted glasses and nods to the pair

"Good Day to you, thank you kindly for allow me on board this most Grand of Vessels" He walks over to the table but continues to stand, he was one for manners and wouldn't sit until invited. "I am Jerard Voncloud, Commander of the Zoner Carrier 'Kaldra' Administrator of Livadia Shipyard and previously head of security upon Gran Canaria. I trust i dont really need to give over the reasons for the good Captain inviting me here, but i hope you know that I'm willing to give as much assistance as i can to the Gallic forces if it means pushing the Brets back out of my home"