Discussions of Delegations

[Bishop Morse]

Bellforge
June 1, 2517 - Beaumonde
7:01 PM Local Time
3:29 AM A.S.T

The night had over taken the landscape surrounding the city, and the wind eased its way in. It came in through many of the buildings and lightly pushed things. It wasn’t very heavy, but it was noticeable none the less. The city itself was still fairly loud and lively in the night. It didn’t matter what time it was it was still going to be a far cry most of the other border worlds. In the industrial portion of the city, this was no exception. The only real difference was the lights that were now on illuminating various smokestacks, taller factories, and refineries so that air traffic wouldn’t find itself colliding with anything it couldn’t see. The same sounds came from them that did in the daylight hours, as night shifts came in. Productivity was important, and the ships still came in and they want out. At the particular point on which a large red vessel sat however, there wasn’t a whole lot of noise. Things were actually fairly quiet, and not many people were moving about. Just a guard that checked the gate to make sure no one was trespassing.

A man with blonde hair and dark coat came down from the extended cargo ramp at the vessels underbelly. The cold reached out and wrapped around him, and he kept his hands in his pockets as he approached the building before him. He walked across the metal landing pad until he was to the door, and stepped inside. The tone inside was very different, much more pleasant, and warmer then it was outside by far. He knew where he was going as he didn’t stop for a moment as he proceeded further in, and up a long set of stairs. Once finally up, he came to a large wooden door. He didn’t waste any time opening it up and moving his way inside.

Sitting at a desk there was a man, more then twice his age. He had been expected back, he’d been in there about an hour earlier. ”Right, we got those to go over.” Morse said. He’d just come from eating dinner, so he was feeling rather good at that moment. He cruised his way through and found his way towards one of the chairs that was on the other side of the desk from the older man. He sat down on the chairs left armrest, and was elevated a bit higher then the man in front of him.

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


Longstreet was finishing filling out one of the last of the items to be worked out for that day. He spent far less time in the office there then some might think, and filling out this many items was a rare thing. But there were times when he needed to directly take care of portions of the business. Trade wasn’t exactly a hands off sort of thing. The moment you just started letting things take their course was the day you lost control of your entire enterprise. It wouldn’t be as bad in some other types of businesses, but there were so many people involved in this one that weren’t directly under his employ that he couldn’t have things getting by him.

He was halfway through what would be the last one, when suddenly the door opened. He saw who it was, and continued. In spite of Morse’s arrival, though a bit earlier then when he was expected to be there, he would finish this out. He continued to write things in as Morse started speaking. They’d known each other long enough that there wasn’t really any formality to their meetings or discussions, at all. Longstreet worked out the last bits of the form and then set the writing utensil down. He rubbed the area of his forehead just in between his eyes. ”I hate requisition days.” Longstreet said aloud to himself. He didn’t say it for Morse to respond to, namely because Morse wasn’t involved in any of those portions of the outpost hardly at all.

Longstreet stood up from the chair and started moving over towards the bar at the side wall. He could use a small drink, especially after finishing that.”So we do.” He answered in regards to Morse’s statement as he made it over to the bar. He didn’t want to go around the point delicately here, there was no point to it. ”You going to be able to work with them?” He asked, knowing full well Morse would know what he was talking about. There was no reason to go about these things in a way that was anything but simple and to the point. They both would know if the other was stalling the point.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse knew that question was going to be coming. He’d been actually preparing an answer for that over the last hour. He reached into his coat and pulled out the flask that he carried with him. The irony to the flask was that the drink it carried had almost no alcoholic content, to the point where it was almost unnoticeable. Where as many carried such things so that they could get a buzz on, he just did it because he did it because its weight wasn’t very noticeable to him. And he liked being around what amounted to his favorite. Of course ‘homebrew’ itself was misery on other people, but Morse didn’t very much concern himself with what would make other peoples lives as pleasant as possible.

”Look.” Morse started taking a sip from the flask. The taste he enjoyed wouldn’t likely be the same for most. ”For the most part I don’t give a shit.”He said now holding the silver container in his right hand, and moving it about as he spoke. ”The crews aware, they’re takin’ it worse then I am for the most part, but they’ll be fine.” He stopped to make a point. ”Ray’s takin’ it worse then the others as you can imagine.” Which was true, because most of the others didn’t voice their opinions quite so loud. ”And I don’t blame him, remember what I told ya.” Morse said thinking back to a conversation they’d had some time before it. ”These are the same people that were talkin’ about stealin’ my weapons and lockin’ me in my room while they took over my ship… before they had any idea where they were headed.” Morse said. He still had the vid-record to prove it. He saw it only a few minutes earlier as he wanted to refresh his memory. They were in the cargo bay, digging through his things which he told them not to, and then they mentioned taking a hold of some of his firepower. Merchants law dictated Morse should have put them all down right there. They were lucky that Morse went by a different set of plans then that.

Morse came to the reality of it though. ”But it aint the worst I’ve had there.” Morse remarked. ”Not by far.” Morse was referring to times during the war, and there were some considerable problems that they didn’t speak of all too often because of how bad these particular points were. His mind however was stumbling into murder, attempted insurrection, and disfiguring of people that had done nothing wrong. Had he not been at his post and seen certain things before they spilled over to become serious problems, a lot more people would no doubt have been killed. So this really wasn’t bothering him all that much because having them on his ship wasn’t presenting as hopeless of a situation as having certain soldiers under his command.”So who’s post are we knockin’ down.” Morse asked, getting back to the main point of what he was there for.

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


Longstreet poured himself a drink as Morse spoke. He had gotten his head around the idea that their evident history with this new group might be a problem, and he was not surprised to note that Ray found it the most unacceptable. But Morse was giving it the all clear and that was good enough. When Morse mentioned the portions about them trying to take over his ship, Longstreet wasn’t surprised Morse had taken it the way he had. He had other ships who’s commanders from even the scent of such a thing, would walk into each cabin and slit the throat of each of the people, just to not take any chances. Morse was a bit more well managed then that, and didn’t have to resort such brutal measures all the time, even though he could very easily. He believed Morse when he mentioned he had the vid-records to prove this claim as well. There wasn’t any reason to present that like a bluff, this wasn’t poker. If he had it, he’d say it, if he didn’t, why bother?

But at his mention that it wasn’t the worst he’d had there, Longstreet knew that to be absolute fact. The war had brought about all sorts of things, and presented all manner of bad people that normally would just be hidden off in the bottom reaches of society. Somehow the war seemed to be an invitation to come up and play hell with other peoples lives, and it happened several times on the Logan during that long conflict. In fighting between the soldiers was the absolute least of it, and given the things that happened there Morse wouldn’t likely be afraid of having these people on board. Because he dealt with those circumstances, which were worse then having a set of desperate mercenaries hop on board. From what Longstreet could tell, that’s what they were, and that was why they’d been on his ship in he first place. 

At Morse’s request for information on the operation Longstreet came back around to the back of his office where the fireplace was. Longstreet knew that Morse was already very aware of what the plan itself was, or at least a majority of it. It had been why he’d requested more people anyway. However there were items that he knew Morse wasn’t going to like. The first had been the people that he’d gotten for him, but the other portion was destination. ”Miners post.” Longstreet said. He knew that Morse wasn’t going to like having heard that, but he put it out there because it had to be said.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse’s eyes closed. In that moment he wished he could have closed his ears at the same time. ”Hahaha.” Morse started laughing finding serious humor in this whole thing. ”Christ on high, you gotta be shittin’ me.” Morse declared. He absolutely did not want to hear that name used in a sense that would mean he would soon have to be working with him. Or that he would ever have to see him again. ”Not 49’s post.” His willingness to do what they were supposed to do was just slipping by the hour. This one was just getting very rough to handle. It wasn’t that it couldn’t be done, moreover that it wouldn’t be done. Just the fact that it had to be done was what was getting to his mind.

Grabbing his flask he took a quick sip from it. His eyes rolled a bit as he came to grips with what he was being told. He really couldn’t stand 49, more so then probably the rest of his people. The worst part about it was the fact that he not only had he had to deal with him the most in the past, but also the fact that he had to tolerate him. That was how he always thought of it, but really it was more then that. The guy was totally in the dark of what he actually thought of him, amazingly. But that was just because he was the one who was able to do that.

”Your serious though.” Morse said turning in the chair, and sliding back down into it. He looked very comfortable sitting almost as informal as one could possible sit. ”You couldn’t hit any of the other post? Declan? No one?” He asked. He didn’t really need the answer for this because Longstreet did his homework on everything. This was the choice because it was the best choice, always. But he could still poke at it regardless.

[Bishop Morse]

Longstreet


Longstreet came back around, but remained standing. Moving around the center table, and over closer towards the chair that Morse sat in. He came forward towards his desk as he began to hear Morse’s protest. He’d anticipated that Morse would start attacking the idea outright. However he was expecting that there was going to be more. He thought that Morse might just demolish the idea entirely, as he sometimes did. But he had a number of elements in this already, much of the planning was his. The initial concept of who would do it was always up in the air, but he had enough of a hold in the architectural direction that of course he wanted to do it himself. 

But he was handing the point over, so Longstreet would answer the questions. ”The other posts aren’t holding what we’re looking for, and Miner’s post is the most ideal for it.” Longstreet elaborated. He had not come to the decision lightly or easily. He knew Morse had a history with Miner, and one that he knew Morse didn’t like. However as today was showing, most of the things that the past was holding didn’t particularly matter much. The point was the present and the benefits of the future, most of the things in the past were just things to dwell on. Outside of learning from it, there were things that were more pressing.

”Besides.” Longstreet said as he came over behind his desk. His face didn’t show much expression other then what it usually did. ”He thinks the world of you.” Longstreet took a drink from the glass in his hand as he suddenly developed a grin. He knew that wouldn’t mean anything to Morse, outside of him absolutely despising the fact of it. Either way it was beneficial for their purposes. ”You still good for it?” Longstreet asked. He needed to make sure that Morse didn’t have plans on jumping out to let someone else take over. If that was the case he’d need to pull in another crew, but that wasn’t likely to be the case as it was.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse started laughing a bit more when he heard Longstreet mention the concept of 49 thinking so highly of him. It wasn’t just at the absurdity of the concept itself, but also knowing full well that Longstreet knew how little that actually meant to him. The idea of it wasn’t too hard to grasp, and he was still amazed even then that such was true. But something like that had it’s uses, and therefore he could go along with it easy enough. ”No shit.”He finally got out in response to the statement. He started laughing a bit more in the disbelief of the whole thing, but that was the way things were. He’d thought about having to go to 49’s post before, but he’d somehow blocked it from his head that it was to be the inevitability of what the choice was going to be.

”Ya, I’m still good for it.” Morse said. He had his snide smile still on his face. ”I aint quite on the same mindset as… certain others.” Morse said. He knew full well that Longstreet was having a bit of trouble with some of the others that were under his employ. In his mind that was probably why Longstreet had gone so far as to take the group he did. Right now Morse didn’t have to ask though, Longstreet didn’t tend to do things without a lot of forethought, and knowing full well what the consequences and benefits were on both sides. Morse then stood up from where he was sitting. ”Just have someone come get me if everything’s ready in the mornin’. You know where I’ll be.” Morse finished, noting that his ship was now parked out in front of the office there. Morse could deal with the rest of this later, but now he was tired. He didn’t say anything else as he walked out the door he’d come in, and down the stairs back towards where he’d come from.