First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (41 page)

              “Those are my guards, Commander Crgann,” Tamara said, affecting a ‘silly ol’ me’ tone to her voice, as though this was just an understandable mixup.  “I’ve had some unpleasantness in my life recently and it was decided that for my security it would be best if I had some backup.”

              The Secaaran glared at her.  “I don’t care whose guards they are.  They are not staying on my ship.”

              Theodosia raised a hand.  “Easy, Commander.  It’s all right.  Captain, please, would you introduce us to your associate?”  Brianne’s jaw worked as she clenched her teeth in frustration of having the commodore overrule her.

              Tamara glanced at the two Republic officers, her HUD showing both of their IDs and for the very first time, she actually was pleased that the disruptor was on her neck.  Her own implants were trying to send a signal to them, to confirm her identity to the two officers there, but a red indicator was blinking on the lower corner of the HUD, clearly showing that the transmission was being interrupted.  “My name is Tamara Samair.  I’m the chief of Operations for FP, Inc.”  She put her hands behind her back, to forestall anyone attempting to shake her hand.  “And I’m the one who’s going to get teams onto this beauty and get him ready to fight again.”

              Theodosia nodded.  “Excellent.  Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Blucas will be joining us shortly, and you’ll be able to work out with him exactly what needs to be done and exactly how you can help us.”

              “That sounds great,” Tamara replied.  “I look forward to speaking with him.”

              “But in the meantime, Ms. Samair,” the commodore went on, “I would just like to know how you intend to work with us on this project.”

              “Well, as I believe Captain Eamonn mentioned to you, we have the facilities here to easily bring your life support and hull integrity back up to 100% efficiency,” Tamara replied easily.  “Those systems should be our first priority.  After that, we’ll look into the shields, sensors and engines.”

              Theodosia nodded.  “That seems reasonable.  But I’m more interested in how you’re going to provide these parts.  Hull plating is simple enough, even military grade, and I did notice you had a couple of corvette class ships patrolling near the gas giant.”

              “Yes, ma’am, that’s correct.  I’ve looked over the specs provided by the teams that did the initial repairs to your life support systems.  They did full scans of your scrubbers and algae matrices and I have to say, I’m impressed by the design.  Very efficient.”

              The commodore frowned.  “Those specs have been in use by the Republic for the last one hundred years, Ms. Samair.  They’re nothing new or special.”

              “Ma’am, with all due respect, something like that is considered an upgrade out here in the Cluster.  Ships out here don’t have state of the art equipment.  We’re working with outdated designs that manage very well, and we’ve kept them in good tune.  But with a few tweaks, I can fabricate the parts needed to restore your ship.  I would just need some of the specifications.”

              “You want me to just turn over specifications for a Republic warship?” she asked, smiling broadly.  “Captain Eamonn, are you and this woman trying to play me for a fool?  You just want me to hand over those specs?  Oh, sure, you fix up this ship and then we leave.  And then in six months or a year, we return to the Cluster to see a flotilla of knock off warships?”

              “Commodore, we talked about this.  You want repairs done to that ship; we need to come to some sort of arrangement.  Now software updates were a good start, but unless you want you ship repaired with what you would consider outdated gear, you are going to need to turn over that information.”

              She sighed.  “This is not a conversation to be having here at the airlock.”

              “Indeed, no, Commodore.  May we adjourn to your conference room?” Tamara asked.

              Brianne’s jaw was clenched so tight it seemed as though sand was falling from her armored skin to land on her uniform shoulder, almost like dandruff.  But then she relaxed, as though a switch had been flipped inside of her.  “Yes, of course.  Captain, Ms. Samair, Commodore.  Let’s go to the conference room.  Bring your guards,” she added, her implants noting that four security officers, armed with needlers and stun pistols were in the corridor, awaiting her orders.  She flashed them a quick message, telling them to hold their positions, but to stay alert.  Non-lethal only.

              It took a few minutes of walking through the ship to get to the conference room, which was only a compartment away from the bridge.  This gave Tamara the opportunity to see and scan all the open panels, junction boxes, and a few more of the Republic toys as they walked by.  There honestly wasn’t a whole lot that she was able to find on the trip, but one never knew.  She just put her optics to record and tried very hard to look at everything.  The internals to a Republic warship didn’t seem to have changed much in the years separating her active service and now.  That gave her some hope: she wouldn’t have a huge learning curve in getting the warship restored and back in space.

              Upon reaching the compartment, they filed in, the Commodore and her flag captain sitting at the head of the table, the furthest from the hatch they’d entered from.  Tamara sat on the far side of the table, with Vincent seated on her right.  It was a small and cramped compartment; there wasn’t much space for this sort of thing on a destroyer.  It was a reversal of roles, seeing as he was the owner of the company, but since she was the one who was actually going to be doing the work, Vincent had deferred to her.  The guards meanwhile had filed in.  Ekaterina stood sentinel outside the door, while the other two took up positions behind Tamara inside the compartment.  They were so close that the humans could smell them, it was a
very
small compartment, but neither complained.

              “Now, Ms. Samair, we need to continue this discussion,” Theodosia said, sounding as though they were discussing a replenishment order for her fleet and Tamara was trying to overcharge her for the order.  “I am well aware that without proper access to the specifications of the systems on this ship, you cannot do a proper job.  But I am unwilling to simply hand that information over.”

              “The way I see it, Commodore,” Tamara replied, sounding nonchalant, “there’s a quid pro quo here.  You need to get back to the Republic and make a report on the activities in the Cluster, specifically the pirate activity that forced you out of Byra-Kae.”

              The Republic officer clenched her teeth, but nodded.  “Yes, Ms. Samair, that is correct.”

              “And with the
Horus
currently in the shape he’s in, you won’t make it,” she said again, adding just a
little
twist to the knife.

              “Yes, that is also correct.”

              Tamara went on.  “Well, you already owe the company a great deal of compensation for the repairs we have already facilitated.  Captain Eamonn,” she gestured to him and the man nodded, “has informed me that the medical treatments he has offered are going to be free of charge and I won’t argue with that.  But the repairs to this ship, that’s a completely different matter.”  She could see that the Commander was about ready to explode.  Only professional courtesy was keeping her from leaping the table.  Or perhaps it was the two lupusan guards standing behind Tamara.  “I don’t work for the Republic.  Your ship needs serious repair work if you ever expect to make it back to report to your Admiralty.  And I can guarantee you that there isn’t anyone else who can fix this old boy up properly, except perhaps the pirate Lord Verrikoth.  And given the amount of work that would need to get done here, we’re talking serious amounts of credits to pay for all this.”

              “You know that we have no credits aboard this ship,” McConnell replied, fuming.  “And I have no way of authorizing such an exchange.  Anything along those lines would have to be done in the Republic.”

              “And now we have arrived at the crux of our problem, Commodore,” Tamara returned.  “FP, Inc has done its good deed by patching up your people and getting the ship here to the relative safety of Seylonique.  But I am not going to waste my crews’ time in repairing a ship for a customer, yes, Commodore, a customer who can’t pay.”

              “So what, specifically, do you want from me?” she demanded harshly, sliding one hand in a chopping motion across the table.  Brianne’s fists clenched and unclenched.

              Tamara affected surprise.  “Why, Commodore, I want it all.  I want a full download of the schematics from this ship.  I would like a full download of any replicator designs that you are carrying, and yes, I’m aware that this ship currently does not carry an industrial replicator.  But I want a full technical readout on everything.  And by that I mean shields, engines, hyperdrives, power systems, computer systems, weapons, comm systems, medical, sensors, the works.” 

              “That is outrageous!” Brianne nearly shouted, half-rising from her seat.

              “That is a fair offer for people who need this ship fixed up,” Tamara retorted.  She could feel Vincent starting to bristle next to her, but she kicked him under the table.  He remained silent.

              “There are things I will never give up to civilians, Ms. Samair,” Theodosia said stiffly.  “I will destroy this ship first.”

              Tamara nodded.  “I understand.  I’m not looking for you to compromise Republic security.  Keep your communication encryptions, your tactical and strategic databases concerning the disposition and locations of your ships.  I’m not looking for that sort of information, as I said.  What I am looking for is complete access to this ship.  I know you expressed concern that you might come back this way some day to find that a flotilla of ships like this one would be here.  I’m looking to properly defend this system, this company and our allies.”

              The commodore sat still for a long moment, breathing noisily.  She touched a hand to the Commander’s forearm, to calm the Secaaran down.  Commander Crgann was on the very edge of her control, looking about ready to damn the consequences and rip the table from the deck and throttle the impudent woman.  “And if I refuse these terms?” Theodosia asked, her voice choked.

              Tamara gave a one shouldered shrug.  “I’m not moving from this, Commodore.  If these terms are unacceptable, I will have your ship towed out of the construction slip and bid you farewell.  And with your weapons and shields in the condition they’re in, I know that my defensive ships will be more than a match for you if you decide to try and force the issue.”

              “I will need some time to consider the offer.”

              Tamara raised her eyebrows.  Then she made a big show of checking her watch.  “I will give you thirty minutes, Commodore,” she said.  “You’ve had the whole trip from Seylonique to think this over.”             

              “This is not the deal I made with Captain Eamonn,” Crgann pointed out.

              “Captain Eamonn was not fully aware of the situation here in Seylonique,” Tamara countered.  “Nor was he aware of the capabilities of the yard here.”  She kept her gaze firmly on the commodore, but she nudged Vincent’s foot with her own.

              The captain nodded.  “I know it isn’t what we originally agreed to, Commodore, Commander,” he admitted, “But I fully support my Chief of Operations in this matter.”  The captain was putting forth a good show, but it was clear he was nervous about that statement.

              Theodosia stared at them for another long moment.  “Very well, Ms. Samair.  Captain.  If you could please give us the time to fully discuss this, I will have my decision to you in thirty minutes.”

              Tamara stood, Vincent on his feet just behind.  “I’ll be awaiting your call, Commodore.  Commander,” she said, nodding to the ship’s commanding officer.  They filed out of the room, not waiting for Crgann to speak.

              “Commodore, this is ridiculous,” Brianne thundered as soon as the hatch closed behind them.  “We are not going to turn over all of the Republic tech base to these people.  There has to be another way.”

              “Did you notice that device on her neck?” Theodosia asked idly, ignoring the Secaaran’s rant.

              The rocky-skinned officer shook her head, confused.  “What, ma’am?”

              “The device,” she repeated.  “The metallic coin looking device that was attached to Samair’s neck.”

              Brianne sighed.  “No, ma’am, I didn’t really notice.  I was too busy concentrating on how much these provincials thought they could screw us because they think they have a boot on our necks.”

              “It looked a lot like a one of the Army’s implant disruptors that they use on prisoners.”

              Brianne frowned, using her own implants to call up the playback.  She looked and sure enough, as the Commodore said, there was a metallic device on the woman’s neck.  “Yes, ma’am, it does.  It’s a variant, a modified version of the 636.”

              “That was what I was thinking,” Theodosia answered.  “Which makes me wonder… Why would someone be wearing an implant disruptor?”

              “Because she has implants that someone didn’t want her to be using,” Brianne replied, understanding slowly dawning.  “You think she’s a Republic officer?”  She called up the image of the woman again and ran the information through the ship’s database, looking for an identity match.  Nothing.  “Well, if she is, I’m not finding her.”