05-04-2023, 09:25 PM
(Jointly written with Lauchenoiria)
The Lauchenoirians who delivered the trio to the Sanctarian Embassy were not happy about the whole situation. Gabriel Fleming and his friends were not just criminals. They were not just traitors. They were traitors specifically to the people who had to deliver them to the embassy, knowing that once in Xiomera they’d be free to continue their work. And for a group of foolish climate activists that were no more than a pain in the government’s back!
Still, they did their job, and without breaking any of Lauchenoiria’s laws regarding the treatment of prisoners. Stretched, perhaps. After all, they did fasten the handcuffs a little too tight. And they did grip their arms a little too hard when pulling them in and out of the van they were transported in. Nothing that would hold up in a court of law as mistreatment, however. They were not Kerlians.
After they handed over the trio to the Sanctarians, the Lauchenoirian agents took their van back to where it was meant to be… and headed to the local pub to drown their fears and sorrows. This would not, in the opinion of literally everyone in Lauchenoiria who knew about the exchange, end well.
***
Captain Richard Heller of the SS Trident watched from the navigation bridge of his vessel as the military plane from the Sanctarian Embassy in Buttercity touched down on the runway of the ship. A similar military plane from Xiomera had landed a number of hours earlier, with the cargo safely deposited in the ship's brig. His directions were that the prisoners being brought on-board from this latest plane were to be accorded the same treatment. Heller had been in the Sanctarian Navy for a long time, but this latest stint in the Promethean Sea was one of the longest tours he remembered being on.
Still, no matter his weariness, his orders were simple - facilitate the prisoner exchange using the aircraft carrier's cargo plane in an expeditious - and surreptitious - manner. The plane from Lauchenoiria had taxied into its place on the apron, and Heller now watched as the prisoners were led to the brig. The ship's medical staff would check them over, as they had done those from Xiomera - and once darkness fell, the planes would depart the ship and return to the Sanctarian embassies in Xiomera and Lauchenoiria. Heller did not know who the people were. He did not ask. He knew this was an exchange being facilitated by Sanctaria, but not involving Sanctarians. That's all he needed to know.
First at 0400 hours, and then again at 0410, a plane left the apron of the SS Trident. Lauchenoirians were heading home to Lauchenoiria, and Xiomera were about to receive some new mercenaries. Heller, woken by an aide, sent a coded message back to Central Command at the Sanctarian Department of Homeland Security. Postmen are out delivering packages.
The Lauchenoirians who delivered the trio to the Sanctarian Embassy were not happy about the whole situation. Gabriel Fleming and his friends were not just criminals. They were not just traitors. They were traitors specifically to the people who had to deliver them to the embassy, knowing that once in Xiomera they’d be free to continue their work. And for a group of foolish climate activists that were no more than a pain in the government’s back!
Still, they did their job, and without breaking any of Lauchenoiria’s laws regarding the treatment of prisoners. Stretched, perhaps. After all, they did fasten the handcuffs a little too tight. And they did grip their arms a little too hard when pulling them in and out of the van they were transported in. Nothing that would hold up in a court of law as mistreatment, however. They were not Kerlians.
After they handed over the trio to the Sanctarians, the Lauchenoirian agents took their van back to where it was meant to be… and headed to the local pub to drown their fears and sorrows. This would not, in the opinion of literally everyone in Lauchenoiria who knew about the exchange, end well.
***
Captain Richard Heller of the SS Trident watched from the navigation bridge of his vessel as the military plane from the Sanctarian Embassy in Buttercity touched down on the runway of the ship. A similar military plane from Xiomera had landed a number of hours earlier, with the cargo safely deposited in the ship's brig. His directions were that the prisoners being brought on-board from this latest plane were to be accorded the same treatment. Heller had been in the Sanctarian Navy for a long time, but this latest stint in the Promethean Sea was one of the longest tours he remembered being on.
Still, no matter his weariness, his orders were simple - facilitate the prisoner exchange using the aircraft carrier's cargo plane in an expeditious - and surreptitious - manner. The plane from Lauchenoiria had taxied into its place on the apron, and Heller now watched as the prisoners were led to the brig. The ship's medical staff would check them over, as they had done those from Xiomera - and once darkness fell, the planes would depart the ship and return to the Sanctarian embassies in Xiomera and Lauchenoiria. Heller did not know who the people were. He did not ask. He knew this was an exchange being facilitated by Sanctaria, but not involving Sanctarians. That's all he needed to know.
First at 0400 hours, and then again at 0410, a plane left the apron of the SS Trident. Lauchenoirians were heading home to Lauchenoiria, and Xiomera were about to receive some new mercenaries. Heller, woken by an aide, sent a coded message back to Central Command at the Sanctarian Department of Homeland Security. Postmen are out delivering packages.