A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (74 page)

              He scowled.  “There’s not a shred of proof that I had anything to do with that tragedy.”

              Tamara waved a hand.  “Of course you didn’t,” she said, scorn dripping.  “But I didn’t come here to threaten you or even poke at old wounds.”

              “Then why
are
you here?” Kly demanded, getting angry.

              “I came here to try and convince you to convince the council to give a large pile of credits to First Principles for a service we’ll render.  And I’m sure you’re going to want what we have.”

              Kly blinked, caught off guard by her blunt statement.  He eyed her for a few seconds before speaking.  “Wait, you want-“  He stopped, took a breath and tried again.  “What service do you expect us to pay you to render, Samair?”

              “I want to add to your Navy’s overall firepower,” she replied simply.

              “Overall firepower…” he said slowly, his voice trailing off.  He didn’t understand.

              “Yes, Councilor.”  Tamara fished a datacard out of her pocket and held it out to him.

              He stared at her suspiciously for a second before taking the datacard.  Kly set down the brandy glass and plugged the card into his terminal at his desk.  A screen popped up and he squinted at the image that appeared.  “A ship?  It looks familiar.”

              “It should.  A ship just like that has been on the news feeds ever since the pirate attack here as well as in the Navy intel reports.”

              He pursed his lips.  “A pirate cruiser.”

              “Correct.”

              Kly looked to Tamara.  “What about this cruiser?”  He pointed to the display.

              Tamara managed a small smile, but there was no humor in her eyes.  “That is a light cruiser design modified from the pirate cruisers encountered by
Grania Estelle
, the Republic forces at Byra-Kae and finally by First Principles’ defense ships a few months ago in the outer system.”

              “How did you get this?” Kly asked, looking back to the display.

              She shrugged.  “Does it matter?”

              “It matters if you want me to convince the council to buy any.”

              “Sent a ship to Byra-Kae a few months ago.  They found a half-destroyed, derelict cruiser and managed to get a full set of technical specs.  They brought it back to us.  I had my engineers go over it and made some modifications, improving the raggedy bits.  She’s a dangerous machine now.”

              Kly zoomed in on the image, nodding his head slowly at what he saw.  Tamara could tell that he liked that image and he was forcing himself to remain calm and uninterested.  He turned back to her.  “Why was this not turned over to the Navy?  Or more importantly, to the government?”  Kly’s tone was accusing.

              Tamara sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming behind her right eye.  “My ships discovered the information on their own, with no prompting, orders or contracts from either the Navy or the government.  I’m under no obligation to turn over what is essentially proprietary information to you or anyone else.”

              “Did you come here to flaunt your intelligence gathering ability, Samair?  Because I don’t appreciate it.”

              “No, Councilor, I came here to convince you to buy a few of those cruisers,” she said, keeping an iron fist around her temper.  “I know the
Leytonstone
just got out of the yard and she’s going through a proper shakedown now, but she’s only one ship.  Verrikoth has three cruisers that we know of, probably more by now.”

              “I see.”  The councilor’s gaze returned to the image for a moment longer before he looked back over to her.  “You have a point.  A good point.  Very well.  Leave this with me, Samair.  I will talk with the council about it.”

              She shrugged.  “You can keep the data card.  It only shows the rendering of the ship itself.  There aren’t any specs on there.”

              The plump man nodded slowly, reaching down and picking up the brandy glass again and downing a gulp.  “We would need a more comprehensive presentation.”

              “Of course.  That’s understood.”

              “Why haven’t you started building one already?”  Then he nodded.  “Ah, of course, the new regulations.”

              “Yes, those,” Tamara said, keeping her face expressionless.  “I can’t build one without a contract with the government for either the Navy or another agency.  But the pirates will be back, Councilor, battlecruiser or no.  You can count on that.  And the more we have to fight them with…”

              He leaned back in his chair a bit, then downed the rest of the brandy in one swallow.  He gently set the glass down on the desktop blotter and tapped his fingers on the desk.  “I will speak with the council.  Thank you for stopping by and for bringing this to my attention.”

              Tamara watched the councilor for a long moment before inclining her head to him.  “Councilor, I thank you for your consideration.”

              He gave a wave of one hand but she was already turning to leave. 
That went about as well as could be expected.  For all his high-minded talk about doing things properly, I won’t be shocked if suddenly I’m ordered to turn over the plans for the ship. 
She mentally shrugged as she exited the office. 
I’ve got copies.  Maybe the council will cough up the credits and contract First Principles to build one.

              She stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her.  The guards were waiting, and none of them looked all that happy, but they all brightened when she appeared.  “Things go well ma’am?” Viktoriya asked.

              Tamara shrugged.  “Not really sure, Serzhant,” she admitted.  “The councilor was willing to talk, which was a pleasant surprise.  I was honestly expecting security to show up and have me escorted out.”  She grimaced, running her hands through her hair before shaking her head.  “He heard me out, which is more than I really expected.”  She jerked her chin in the direction of the corridor.

              The she-wolf grunted and all of the guards immediately melted into a phalanx formation around the principle, with Mister Katsopolis on one side and the Serzhant on the other.  Beau took up the rear with Kiki leading the way.  “Where are we going, Ma’am?” the sniper asked.

              “Back to the hangar deck, Ms. Lamont,” Tamara replied.  “I think we’re done here.”

              “I’m confused, Ma’am,” the Severite said, looking to her human eyes as though he was smiling.  “We flew all the way here from the shipyard just to have a five minute meeting and now we’re going all the way back?”

              “You got a problem with that, Mister?” Viktoriya snarled. 

              The cat looked contrite.  “No, Serzhant.  Just seems like a waste of fuel is all.”

              The serzhant glared at him for a few more meters as they continued walking, and he wisely didn’t say another word.  She let the gaze hang for a few more seconds, and turned back to resume her visual sweeps of the corridor.  Her ears and nose had never stopped doing their work.

              Tamara was silent for a few moments as they continued down the corridor.  They approached the lift, but she stopped a few meters short.  Her head popped up.  “Change of plan, Serzhant.  We’re going to head down to the engineering and reactor levels.”

              The others all exchanged glances, except for Kiki, who didn’t look back, but her ears folded flat to her head.  Not Viktoriya, though.  “Understood, Ma’am.  You heard the lady.”  They reached the lift.  “Anyone in particular we’re going to see?”

              “I think I’d like to see one of the engineers.  I want to see how things are going on the lower decks.”

              Viktoriya commed a message to her principle instead of speaking.  [Is it a good idea to be visiting the ‘lower decks’ as you put it immediately after meeting with one of the administratory council, Ma’am?]

              [Probably not.  But I have a friend on the orbital that First Principles does business with.  I haven’t seen him in a few months and since I’m here anyway, why not see if he’s available for a chat?]  Tamara gave a small smile. 

              [Anything in particular, Ma’am?]

              [Just a chat, Viktoriya.  Don’t get yourself all excited.]

              The wolf just shook her head but didn’t reply.  Tamara had the grace not to laugh.  She pulled her hand communicator out of her pocket and flipped it open with her thumb.  A quick burst transmissionfrom her implants and she pressed the transmit button.  “Well, Miklos knows I’m here.  Let’s see if he’s up for a little get together.”  It didn’t take long for the burly engineer to respond to her message.  “All right, let’s go.”

              “Miklos!” Tamara said, entering the orbital chief engineer’s office.

              “Tamara Samair,” the man said, getting up from his desk and coming over to her.  He first shook the offered hand and then pulled her in for a huge bear hug.  The guards (all but Katsopolis) all tensed and then relaxed when he released her.  He glanced at all of them.  “You’ve certainly grown in importance since the last time I saw you, Tamara.  They certainly don’t seem to like me.”

              “They’re not paid to like anyone, Miklos,” she replied.  “Try not to take it personally.”

              “So, what brings you here?”

              Tamara flicked her eyes and her head to the side.  “Had a meeting with one of the admin council members.”

              “Ooh, be still my heart.  Keeping lofty company.”  The man put a hand to his chest, dramatically.

              “Trying to sell a ship to the council,” she replied, chuckling.  “I don’t know if they’re going to bite.  The good councilor didn’t give me a warm feeling.”

              The man squinted at her for a moment.  “Councilor Kly?”  She nodded.  “I think we’ve pinpointed the problem right there, Tamara.  From all accounts, that man doesn’t like you.”

              “The feeling is mutual.  But I thought it might be worth it to go to the man most likely to try and shoot down the idea, convince him.  If I could, then the hard job would be over.”

              Miklos nodded.  “Makes sense.  So, what is it that a hard-working engineer can do for a high-flying corporate operator?”

              She couldn’t help but laugh.  “When do you get off shift?”

              He checked his watch.  “Another hour.”

              “Buy you a beer?”

              He blinked in surprise and then smiled.  “I’m always up for having a beer with a good-looking woman.”

              She rolled her eyes.  “Meet up at McKee’s up on Sixteen?”

              “I’ll be there.”

              As they left, the serzhant commed Tamara.  [Just a chat, Ma’am?]

              [I can’t have a beer when I talk with a friend of mine, Serzhant?  Would you prefer I brought him on the ship and have the beer there?]

              The wolf scowled.  [It would make things a bit easier from a security standpoint, Ma’am.]

              [I’m sure it would be, Serzhant, but that’s just not going to happen unless we get mobbed by an angry torch-bearing mob.]

              [Don’t even joke about that, Ma’am.  The idea of having to extract under heavy fire in a confined environment is one of my worst fears.]  The wolf’s fur rippled.  [I’ve done it twice before and it was not pretty either time.]

              [I apologize, Serzhant.  But for now, we’re going to McKee’s for a drink and some conversation.  It should only be a short stop and then we’re back out into space.]  She shook her head briefly and then smiled.  “Buck up,” she said aloud.  “We’re going up to Sixteen, have a drink and sit for a while and then we’re out of here.  At least this trip won’t be a complete waste.”

              They were two days out from the orbital when the
Leytonstone
caught up weith them, going in the same direction.  The guards all watched from one of the displays as they battlecruiser closed on
Moxie-2
.  They were moving in the same direction as the civilian ship, but they were not moving to close the one hundred thousand kilometer gap between them.  Tamara was seated on one of the counches with her eyes closed, tied into the ship’s sensors.  She watched the battlecruiser’s approached and then, suddenly, its acceleration tapered off.  The big ship still had a higher rate of velocity than
Moxie-2
, but she wasn’t silly enough to try and race the behemoth.  It would only waste fuel and accomplish nothing.

             
She still is a magnificent
ship
, Tamara mused, unable to stop herself from smiling. 
It’s outdated, almost paranoid level of redundancy made for a tougher ship, but it did make for longer repair times when in dock. 
There was a hope, a small one that the pirates might never come back to Seylonique.  Tamara didn’t really believe that; there were too many reasons for them to return for her to ignore her own logic; Seylonique was just too tempting a target.  She only hoped that the council would agree to fund construction before it was too late.