First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (15 page)

              “Ms. Samair,” he replied, a slight buzz in his voice.  “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

              She checked the chrono.  “Yes, it’s a little past 2300 hours, station time.  Don’t tell me I woke you?  I didn’t think station admin’s
ever
slept.”

              He gave a short, louder buzz, his equivalent of a chuckle.  “We do, in fact, but no, you didn’t wake me.  What can I do for you this evening?”

              “Well, I’m just calling because I’m interested in hearing about any progress in the investigation of the attack on my company.  What can you tell me?”

              “Well, the investigation is still ongoing,” he said, clearly hedging.

              “Oh, don’t give me that,” she said.  “You’ve had weeks to interview people, to look over the data my people provided.”

              “Yes, and as I said, I’m still investigating.  I’ve got people going over everything, and talking to the crews of both ships, the survivors of the
Kara
’s boarding parties.  But nobody’s talking.”

              Tamara growled in frustration.  “I will not let you sweep this under the rug, Triarch.”

              “Are you threatening me, Ms. Samair?” Kozen’ck demanded. 

              “No, Triarch, I’m not,” she said.  “Those people, along with whoever put them up to attacking my company, killed people.  They killed security officers, crewmembers of the
Cavalier
, and even civilian workers on the Kutok mine.  And I won’t stand for a half-assed investigation that gets quietly forgotten and buried.”

              “What do you want me to do, Ms. Samair?” he asked, sounding very tired.  “I’m doing the best I can, but if no one is talking, then there is only so much I can do.”

              “If I have to go to the newsies and start running my mouth about everything, naming every name I can think of, point fingers at members of the admin council, dredge up any dirty laundry I can find, believe me, Triarch, I will.”  Tamara’s face was rock hard.  “Don’t think of that as a threat.  Think of it as a premonition of things to come.”  And she cut the connection. 

              She sat there, in the pilot’s couch, fuming for a long moment.  She really shouldn’t have threatened him, she knew that.  But he’d made her so
angry
with his political non-answers.  That even presupposed that the zheen was even
looking
for whoever had perpetrated the attack.  He probably wasn’t.  More than likely he wasn’t involved in the attack, but he’d probably decided that it was in the best interest of keeping the peace to hush the whole thing up.  That or very powerful parties had gotten to him, and forced him to shut the “investigation” down.  Either explanation was plausible.

              But her comment about getting with the newsies had been made in complete seriousness.  And she closed her eyes, pulling up her HUD.  She began drafting a notice to be delivered to the various news services about the whole attack, hopefully it would be something that might have the ravenous parasites clambering all over themselves to get the scoop on.

              If nothing else, it would keep her entertained for a few hours on the journey.  She had checked, the next two
Testudos
had rolled off the line and were already on the move, heading to the orbital.  They’d be arriving right around the time Tamara reached Kutok mine.  She’d ordered that they be outfitted to carry passengers, which would be about twenty per ship.  This would allow Corajen to bring a goodly number of new security officers to the gas mine, reducing the lupusan’s stress levels a bit.  Tamara wished she could have brought a few back on her ship this time, but Corajen had decided that an extra week of training would help her better evaluate her new troop of deputies.  She would be riding in with that group, would get them up to speed and then would work on getting another group in.

             
This is going to be a long week
, she though to herself as her ship continued to accelerate toward the mine.  She wished that the two stations were much closer to each other, to cut down on transit time, but by commercial vessel, it was a seventy hour one-way trip.  A shuttle service, using a dedicated passenger liner, would definitely need to be set up. 
And I think that might need to be the first thing we build once the repair slip is up.

~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

              “Can you believe the bullshit I’m hearing about FP and their practices?  They’re poaching people left and right.”  There was a meeting of some of the admin council, a bit less formal than the usual meetings. 

              “What are you bellyaching about
now
, Kly?” Chakrabarti asked, his tone slightly acidic.  “I’ve just spoken with Mister Jollin down in the engineering spaces.  He says he’s finally gotten a full watch rotation going, he says training is going better than before, hell, he’s even said he’s got full sets of replacement parts and spares.”

              The rotund politico glared at his much more slender counterpart.  “Well, maybe not from there, but I’ve done a poll of the various sectors around the station.  We’re talking over two thousand people have been recruited by that bitch.”

              Chakrabarti sighed.  “Why do you hate them so much?  Honestly, having them around has only boosted the economy and made things better.  We’d fallen into such a funk over the last few years.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if within another few years the reactors finally gave up the ghost and flamed out.  This whole orbital would have become nothing more than a floating chunk of dead metal over the planet, just waiting to deorbit and crash.”

              “Stop being dramatic,” Kly spat.  “It wasn’t that bad.”

              “Yes, it was,” Kozen’ck put in.  “I’ve spoken with Mister Jollin as well.  He was genuinely worried about our status.  There weren’t enough people, parts or skills.”

              Kly waved a hand, as if shooing away a pest.  “We were thriving just fine.”

              But the zheen waved his antennae.  “No, Kly, we were getting by.  Barely.  Deluding ourselves into thinking we were well off.  Now?  We’re finally pulling out of it.  There’s actually a vibe on the orbital.  People are actually starting to move with purpose.”

              “Just because some group of outsiders came into our system with some fuel and replacement parts?”  Kly clearly wasn’t impressed with that idea.

              “No, Kly,” Chakrabarti replied.  “Well, yes, in part because of that.  But the people in FP hadn’t fallen into the same malaise that we all had.”  He waved his hands as if trying to disperse smoke.  “But that’s neither here nor there.  The fact is that since they started business, they’ve only continued to expand. I also hear that they’re in the process of building a mining station out by the belt.”

              “What?” Kly said, looking up.  “They’re building another damned station?”  He threw his hands up in the air and began to pace in frustration.

              Kozen’ck buzzed in amusement.  “They are certainly industrious.”

              “They’re infuriating!” Kly went on.

              “Knock it off, Kly,” Chakrabarti told him, grimacing.  “You’re starting to sound like that pouty child again.  What, specifically is your problem with them?”

              “They came in here and just kicked over our anthill.  They have industrial replicators that they won’t share…”

              “That isn’t true,” Kozen’ck interrupted.

              Kly was brought up short.  “What?”

              “It isn’t true,” the zheen repeated.  “They’ve been leasing industrial replicators to the orbital as well as to a few small businesses down on the planet.”

              “What do you mean they’ve leased industrial replicators?” the portly man sputtered.  “When did this happen?”

              “Within the last few days,” Kozen’ck said, his antennae waggling.  “Chief Jollin has been over the moon about the whole deal.  Of course, now instead of sending pestering emails to my staff concerning parts and fuel, now he’s telling us we need to start bringing in raw materials and fuel.”

              “They actually are opening up their bag of tricks,” Kly said.  “Well, we need to move to nationalize all of those devices, immediately!”

              “Do you think that FP will actually allow the government to step in and take their devices?” Chakrabarti asked, sounding less than enthusiastic about the idea.

              “I don’t care what those bastards want,” Kly spat.  “Those devices are critical to our economy and our defense!  We need to collect them up and get them all up to the orbital so that they can be used to get the
Leytonstone
operational again. 
Fully
operational this time.”

              “Well, I’ll drink to that,” Chakrabarti agreed.  Kly turned to look at him.  “What?  I’d like to get the battlecruiser up to fully operational status just as much as anyone.  If these devices can accomplish that, I’m all for it.”

              Kly rubbed his hands together.  “So then we need to move to collect up these devices.”

              “We need to move carefully,” the other man cautioned.  “We can’t just sent police down to confiscate them.  The citizens who leased them from FP paid good money for them and did so legally.  They will be extremely upset at
us
if we just swoop in and take them.”

              “Well, perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement,” Kly said, looking off into the corner of the room.  “Pay them some pittance, reimburse them for what they paid to FP, then take the devices off their hands.  And if they don’t want to take the offer, we confiscate it.”

              “That’s going to piss off a lot of citizens,” Kozen’ck noted.  “And so far, from what my sources have found out, there are only eleven devices in total, two of which are already being used by Chief Jollin.”

              “That’s it?  Only eleven?”  But then Kly shook his head.  “Bah, it doesn’t matter.  Even with that many devices, we can start churning out replacement parts.”

              “But that doesn’t solve the problem of actually repairing the battlecruiser,” Chakrabarti said.  “As you noted before, a goodly number of people have signed up with FP.  And unfortunately, they’re hiring from the people that are already showing an interest or aptitude for engineering or construction tasks.  Which are exactly the people we need to fix the ship and eventually crew it.”

              “Get Gants to start his own recruiting drive,” Kly said, as though the answer was obvious. 

              “We are,” the zheen replied.  “But FP offers very good wages and benefits packages, as well as top notch training.  I’ve looked through their training manuals and it’s very tough.  Lots of mathematics and spatial awareness.  Lots of hands on training, as well.  The local space defense forces aren’t offering anywhere near that level of pay, or training.”

              “How much is being offered?” Kly asked, finding himself actually curious. 

              Kozen’ck named a figure.  “For an optical welding technician, one of the more important construction jobs, who will also be expected to operate in space as well as on their gas mine or ships, they’re paid something like twenty credits per hour.  But with the amount of projects they’re working on, apparently overtime and even double time is being offered with increasing frequency.  Those technicians are overworked, but they are certainly
not
underpaid.”

              Kly nodded, feeling his anger starting to rise again.  A similarly qualified optical welder on the orbital was lucky if he could get twelve or thirteen credits per hour and the overtime opportunities had until very recently been small.  But of course, with all the money that FP was raking in by selling fuel and raw materials to the orbital and other businesses, not to mention other parts and equipment, they could afford to pay these very high wages.

              “I’ll have to look at the budget,” Chakrabarti said thoughtfully.  “Seems we’re going to have to be competitive if we’re going to keep FP from poaching our entire workforce.  Though I suppose we could hire some of their workers…”

              “No!”

              “Absolutely not!”

              Both Kly and Kozen’ck looked at one another, astonished that they’d agreed on this.  “We can’t give FP unrestricted access to the
Leytonstone
,” Kozen’ck said, speaking first.  “And that is exactly what we would need to do in order for them to bring the ship up to full operational capacity.”

              “No, we’re absolutely not doing that,” Kly agreed.  “Who knows what they would do to the ship if we allowed it?”

              All three were nodding about that.  “But I thought you were one of their biggest supporters, Triarch?” Chakrabarti asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

              The zheen nodded.  “I am.  I am very impressed at their work ethic and the results that they have provided.  And now with the completion of their second defense ship and the restoration of their fighter squadrons, I think they’re in an excellent position to put themselves on top and stay there.  But that doesn’t mean I want them to get aboard the
Leytonstone
.  While they might be in command of military assets, they aren’t in command of something as grand as a battlecruiser.  We need to maintain a certain level of control.”