Location: Zen Star, customised Oasis Liner; Galileo system.
HANCOCK MARTIN FITZGERALD
--certainment, monsieur Huguenot. The Platinum shipment you have ordered will be at the space port within days - possibly less, should the solar winds be favourable.
A brief pause. Gallic, spoken in a northern dialect, over the commlink.
Comment? Ah, mais oui, I will be there in person, helming the delegation! It would be an egregious faux pas to miss the chance to see eye to eye, as we are so fond of saying here, with such an esteemed business partner, non? Hah hah! I will be sure to bring a bottle from my most prized reserve to celebrate the occasion.
Another brief pause. A guffaw.
Chardonnay?! Monsieur, consider me flattered but not swayed! It will have to be that and a Nimes Blanc before I consider a discount, hah hah! Bon, bon, let us not delay each other further. A bientot, cher monsieur!
The man on the other side of the commlink raises a hand and speaks a few words in farewell; the speaker lightly bows his head.
The transmission ends, the blue light of the holographic feed vanishing in midair as the projector retracts into its panel, returning the low lacquered wood table to its traditional form.
Reaching for an inner pocket of his haori, the young man pulls out a small piece of cloth and sets about cleaning the lenses of his glasses, a self-satisfied smile on his face.
Whew. And with that, we--
A shoji slides to the side, a bright-eyed girl peeks around the paper door with a curious look on her face.
IRIS DOUGLAS
Hey, mister Fitzgerald. Miss Rose called, said she'll be here in about thirty on the Piano Man with the Surreptitious, the Skink, mister Cade and a few others in tow... did something happen? You look happy.
He squints slightly, then nods and grins.
Ah, Iris, my dear girl! Yes, I've just finished with the last few details of the deal. All that's left is making the trip there, and I don't mind saying I'm excited!
Iris tilts her head, uncertain; he smiles understandingly.
I know, I know. It is no Kusari, that much I will concede, and to an accomplished explorer like yourself it must not seem like a great undertaking... but I travel much more rarely than you do, my girl, and this is a big deal! Is it? I don't know much about business... Without a doubt. In more ways than one, even! Oh?
Hancock pockets the cloth back and returns the now polished lenses to their rightful place, over his eyes. Tinged orange-pink and rimmed in brass, those round glasses of his almost always adorn his face and conceal his gaze; whether this is a mere stylistic choice or a ploy to gain an edge in negotiations, he's never said.
He beckons her to enter, as he rises from his cushion to his feet, and moves over to the opposite wall.
Come in, come in! Make yourself comfortable. Here... Um, sure! Just a moment...
While he pushes aside wooden panelings, revealing more rooms past his office, she takes off her shoes - a pair of worn, white sneakers, bearing the emblem of one Bretonian Astronomical institute - and gingerly makes her way in.
She never feels particularly comfortable in those areas of the ship: tailored as they are to resemble the interiors of Kusari stations and buildings, in accordance with mister Fitzgerald's preferences, the abundance of furniture and objects and artworks always makes her worry about tripping and breaking some painstakingly curated diminutive potted tree or tear apart some incomprensibile yet gorgeous antique scroll.
At times, she mused often, it feels more like a museum than actual quarters for guests and crews... it is very pretty, though. And he's always nice about it, too.
Ah, there you are. Look here, my girl - what do you see?
Now at his side, with the walls parted to reveal an ample view of the space outside the ship, she is treated to a view of Galileo.
Well... not much, to be honest. The dark blue background light coming from the nearby suns, the Raiden trade lanes... the rocky nebulae...
He nods, his hands resting at his sides.
Indeed. As masterfully depicted by Asakura-sama besides, this system is a dreary sight. A gloomy shroud of ultramarine marred by ugly splotches of blackened dust and stone, and the uglier still humanity that dwells within. A dead system, for all intents and purposes...
She glances over at him as he speaks, and is reminded of that painting, with a cheeky smile. She'd sneaked in a look or two before it was ready to be displayed on this deck, and earned herself one of the artist's trademark glacial stares.
"Eppur si muove". Um. "And yet it moves?"
Hancock beams, equal parts in surprise and appreciation. The girl shrinks.
Goodness! A scholar of classics? No, no. I'm just... I know a little of the language, that's all.
From her darkening expression and reticence, the entrepreneur joins two and two together, thinking better of inquiring further. The one she might have learnt from, if his thinking is correct, is still unaccounted for, as was the ship she served with.
She has never forgiven herself for her failure to find them.
It is a quote that goes back to the days of long lost Earth. A scientist, in times when those were not yet commonplace, had been forced to recant a theory of his about the collocation of the planet and the stars, arguing that it was the former to revolve around the latter, and not the opposite.
This scientist, one Galileo, was said to have spoken those words in defiance - defeated, yes, but unbowed.
Iris remained silent, her mood swiftly changed from dejection to rapt attention.
The stories about humanity's cradle, true or fantasy though they might have been, always fired up her imagination.
In this case, also because she'd like to know why the history lesson.
No longer than half a year ago, I would have written off Galileo like so many others at IC. Why wouldn't I, when Kepler was equally perilous but considerably faster to traverse and had Ames to serve as a critical juncture between the two Houses?
The young man adjusts his spectacles, leaning forward as a flash of light in the distance catches his eye. Trade lanes flaring up.
When Kepler fell to the storm, there was panic. It was known this would have been its inevitable fate, but only few took steps to do more about it than halting all extant orders and routing them through Bretonia or Rheinland instead. Such was the infamy of this system. But now...
He grins, proudly. A pair of Transports emerges from the superluminal tunnel and sets course for the mooring points of the nearby station, while a Scraper zips past them on the way to the field.
Now, against conventional wisdom, it lives. Miners flock to Arcetri, merchants stream through Arcetri. Precious Platinum, expertly refined, finds its way across Sirius thanks to our work. Golden Road paves the way between the stars in Platinum, you could say. Hah!
Iris smiles sheepishly at her own pun. Hancock chuckles, amused, still electrified by the success of his venture.
Indeed. All that remains now is to present our esteemed client with the grandest delegation he will have seen in his life. Then, once the credits are tallied up, the salaries paid, and new commissions made, we will begin the celebrations in earnest. Will there be croissants? I'd like to try those. Miss Rose always brings back wines and liqu--
A chime rings out from behind them, a yellow light blinking from the rim of the desk.
They turn around. Eyebrows raised at the timing, Hancock nods with satisfaction before turning to his explorer.
Speak of the devil! Well then, I believe it is time we go and meet the others. Do go ahead, I will be there momentarily. Okay, mister Fitzgerald. I'll tell them you're coming. See you at the flight deck!
Flashing a brief smile, Iris takes her leave from the room. Her boss watches her, returning the smile, then turns his gaze outside the windows once more.
Golden trails of engines lit up the gloom of Galileo, his eyes following them on their path.
For now, it moves.
Fortunes willing, it will soon thrive.
