First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (88 page)

BOOK: First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3
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              “How long are we expected to sit out here, Captain?” Garidhak asked from the tactical station.  She was leaned back in her chair, lounging like, well, a cat.

              Leicasitaj turned around in his chair to be able to look at her better.  His black eyes bored into her.  “You do understand that we are serving an important function, don’t you?”  His tone implied that he didn’t appreciate her slacking off.  “We are monitoring for incoming ships.”

              “No we’re not, sir,” the Severite replied, sitting up.  She pointed to the main screen.  “We’ve been exiled from the mission.”

              “Garidhak…”

              “No, sir, please.  Hear me out.”

              Leicasitaj made a watery gurgle.  “With me, Garidhak.  Mister Wymea, you have the bridge,” he said to the helmsman, getting up from his command seat.  The Severite hopped down from her chair and followed him off the bridge to his cabin.  He sat down on his chair and indicated for her to close the hatch.  She did and stood at rest just inside the cabin.  “All right, speak your piece.”

              “Captain, Colonel Gants is just pissed off at us and at Commander Samair for having us along.”  The Severite was blinking furiously in anger, her ears flat against her head.  “He’s angry because we kicked his ass back at the Kutok mine.  He might have evolved as a human being since then,” her tone was clear she didn’t think he had, “but he’s still human.  If he was serious about us being an early warning system, he would have positioned us a hell of a lot further than five light seconds out from the orbital.  That’s nothing.  We should be five light
minutes
at least!”

              Leicasitaj grunted.  That much was true at least.  “I argued that same point, Garidhak, but the Colonel game me his orders.  He was very specific and I have no cause to disobey those orders.  Besides, for the moment, it looks as though most of the system’s defense ships are all clustered around us here at the orbital.”

              “But Captain, we’re way out of range of any of those ships
at
the orbital,” the tactical officer pressed, her claws extending and sheathing at her sides.  “And, in case you were thinking that the colonel put us out here so that we’d see any serious problems there at the orbital and be able to race out to the hyper limit to get the word back home, you can forget it.”

              “I’ve seen the ships.  Two of them, corvettes, waiting half a light second from our position,” Leicasitaj replied.  “It’d be close to see if we could race them to the hyper limit and jump before they could catch us.”  He raised one hand in a half shrug.  “Most likely we’d be fighting all the way to the hyper limit, trying to keep them from shooting out our engines.”

              “Exactly, Captain, exactly,” Garidhak crowed.

              His facial tentacles writhed in anger.  “So what do you want me to do about it, Guns?  Commander Samair specifically put me under Colonel Gants’ command.  She told me to follow his orders as if they were hers.  He hasn’t done anything objectionable, at least not seriously.  He seems to be doing a decent job with what’s been going on and none of the ships we’ve brought with us have been attacked.  Yes, putting us out here is annoying, but it does serve a purpose.  And even if it was a complete insult and waste of time, there’s nothing I can do.  Disobeying his orders would do nothing but get me either completely sidelined, or sent home in disgrace.”

              “What’s the difference?”

              The Romigani sat back, looking somewhat calmer.  “Sidelined would mean that he would most likely send me back to the hyper limit to sit there and watch the door.”  He growled.  “At least there, we would still be a part of this mission, if only peripherally.  Otherwise, we go home and FP has no presence here.”

              The Severite hissed in frustration, looking away from her captain.  “It’s just so frustrating.  And insulting, Captain.  I can’t believe the councilors would let him get away with this.”

              Leicasitaj chuckled.  “I think the councilors are far more concerned about this whole trade summit than they are with how Colonel Gants positions ships under his command.  So long as we aren’t doing anything to derail the talks or embarrass anyone in power, we don’t exist.  In fact we’re nothing more than Gants’ problem and responsibility.”  He sighed, and his tentacles squirmed again.  “Let this go, Guns.  We ride this out, and once the talks are over, we’re back home and doing what we were hired to do.”

              “But Captain-…”

              “No, Garidhak,” he said, getting to his feet.  “I’m ordering you to let this go.  You do your job, stand your watches and keep this ship and the convoy safe, just like you have been.  Is that understood?”

              The cat looked furious, but her blinking slowed until finally she was staring at the bulkhead.  “Yes, sir.”

              “Good.  Dismissed.”

Chapter 27

 

              Chakrabarti, Kly and Arathos stepped off the shuttle onto the hangar bay of the Ulla-tran orbital station into a well-lit metal compartment, filled with people.  Members of the Seylonique Army, outfitted with dress uniforms and polished boots (equipped with deadly looking assault weapons and sidearms) stood with their weapons at port arms on either side of the hatch.  Four more soldiers, with their weapons in hand, pointed down to the deck.  On the other side was a full squad in battle dress (though their armor was not of the powered variety) also with automatic weapons, spread out near the hatch leading into the station.  These troopers were not well groomed or wearing polished boots.  These looked like thugs in uniform, to the delegates’ eyes. 

              Six people entered from the main doors, all of the dressed in what looked to be formal business attire.  The humans wore suits and neckties (something that made Kly smirk), the zheen wore a formal tunic and the lupusan was dressed in a formal kilt with loose tunic with flowing sleeves.  The two groups stepped toward each other, with Chakrabarti leading one group and a tall, lean human male leading the Ulla-tran contingent, stopping only a few paces from each other. 

              The thin man spoke.  “On behalf of the people of Ulla-tran, I would like to welcome you to our star system.  I am President Nikolas Montenegro, leader of the governing council here.”

              Chakrabarti nodded politely.  He spread his hands.  “On behalf of my colleagues and the star system of Seylonique, I greet you.  I am Councilor Sebastian Chakrabarti, leader of this trade delegation.  I’m hoping that during these talks we can bring about a new level of friendship and prosperity between our two peoples.”

              Montenegro smiled.  “That is my sincerest hope as well.”  Members on both sides looked as though they didn’t really believe him when he made that statement.  Kly rolled his eyes, receiving a sharp elbow in the ribs from Arathos.  The man hissed in pain and winced, but did his best not to draw too much attention to himself. 

              The president turned, sweeping his arm to the side.  “Come, we have conference suites set up, let us get to work.”

 

              A short time later, the groups were seated in the conference suites, around a large metal table.  It wasn’t a particularly warm and inviting room, but it was functional.  The aides had gotten together over the comms while
Leytonstone
was on its way into the system to discuss things like placement of flags, seating arrangements at the table and other minutiae such as this.  While the primaries were exchanging pleasantries out in the hangar deck, a second shuttle had landed there an hour earlier and the aides came in and arranged things according to the agreed upon plan.  It seemed as though, at least on the surface and with the minor players anyway, things might move along in the proper direction.

              “So what is it that you think we can provide?” Nikolas asked, folding his hands on the table.

              Chakrabarti considered his counterpart across the table.  “My mission here is not to take anything.”

              The president sighed.  “Yes, thank you, I appreciate it, but the basic premise of my question remains unchanged.  You came here to establish trade relations, but the simplest part of that means that there is something here that you, or your nation, wants.”

              “This is a highly industrialized system,” Chakrabarti said.  “As is ours.  We have different ways of doing things, but I know that both of our nations are interested in each others’ technology.  I know a few engineers back home that were quite impressed with some of the computer tech that your cargo captains have sold to our businesses.”

              “So it’s our technology you’re looking for.”

              “As well as markets for our own goods to be sold.”

              The president frowned.  “I can appreciate that, but you came here with the expectation that we would comply.  So just opening a simple trade agreement wouldn’t warrant an expedition here with your warships.”

              He shrugged.  “It was more of a gesture, to make sure that we would be taken seriously.  I didn’t want to threaten or intimidate, I just wanted to give an impression of our strength.”

              “To intimidate us!” the zheen on the Ulla-tran side of the table said, the monotone voice of the t-pack accompanied by the hisses and clicks of his own voice underneath. 

              “No,” Chakrabarti replied calmly.  “I want it to be clear that Seylonique, while less populous than Ulla-tran, is a force to be reckoned with.  We are not interested in fighting anyone, we’re looking to solidify our position here in the Cluster.”

              “Through conquest!” the zheen hissed.

              “Have we made any demands on you?” Kly shot back.  “We came here with enough firepower to challenge you and yet at no point did we do anything aggressive.”

              “Your arrival with warships in this system is aggression enough.”

              “Those warships are meant to simply protect our shipping,” Kly said.  “The last time one of our freighters came into this system your inspection teams shot one of the crew!”

              The zheen bristled, almost coming out of its chair.  “Our customs and inspections personnel have the right to search all incoming and outgoing vessels for contraband.  If one of the crew was injured during the course of such an inspection, it must be because the crew resisted.”

              As Kly started to turn purple, Nikolas intervened.  “I think we’re getting to areas that we might need to discuss.”

              “I agree.”  Chakrabarti turned and looked at his colleague, who sat back in his chair, saying nothing.  “Perhaps we could discuss this issue further.”

              “Yes, I believe it is a place to start.”  Nikolas took a sip of water.  “Ulla-tran, in principle, believes that an agreement between our two governments can only be beneficial, but we will not relinquish any right over inspection for contraband.”

              “Nor should you,” Arathos put in.  “And neither would Seylonique.”

              “What we’re looking for is to have freighters traversing the local systems without needing to have warships for escort,” Chakrabarti said.  “I know that you’ve sent your freighters in convoy to Seylonique under escort.”

              “Yes, that’s correct,” Nikolas replied.

              “I think it would be to everyone’s benefit if we could get to a point where we don’t feel that warships are necessary to escort our cargo ships,” Chakrabarti said.  “Just have the freighters flying back and forth between the local systems.”

              “That isn’t possible,” Shayenne stated.  “There are hostile ships in the nearby star systems that have threatened this system once already.  A battle was fought here some months ago between the Republic and these forces.  It was only through some sort of divine intervention that no Ulla-tran installations were damaged and no citizens were injured or killed.”

              “I understand,” Kly replied.  “We haven’t been attacked directly, but we have received reports about the same pirate raiders in nearby systems.  They attacked and occupied Byra-Kae and forced the Republic contingent out.”

              “What?” Nikolas demanded, leaning forward, his palms flat on the table. 

              “That’s impossible.”  Shayenne was on her feet, fury and panic blazing in her eyes.

              Chakrabarti shook his head.  “I wish it was.  But the survivors of the attack managed to limp out of Byra-Kae and met up with one of our ships.  Our ship captain brought the Republic survivors to Seylonique and they told us what had happened.”

              “You brought Republic survivors out to your own star system?  They had a ship?”

              “A destroyer,” Chakrabarti replied.  “Yes, we helped fix up their ship and then they left, heading back to the Republic.”

              “Wait,” the president said and all eyes turned to him.  “There was a Republic warship that came through this system a couple of months ago, but they didn’t stop at any of our facilities or the planet.  They just transited through the system, kept out of our traffic patterns and then jumped to hyperspace once they reached the hyper limit on the far side of the system.  You say they came to you for repairs?”

              He nodded.  “Yes, they did.  One of our large corporations got them into their shipyard and made the repairs.  They exchanged repairs and resupply for the technical readouts for the ship.”

              “You have Republic tech?” Nikolas asked.

              Chakrabarti nodded.  “Yes and we’ve built several of our own.  Two of them, in fact,
Equinox
and
Solstice
are here in the system.”

              Nikolas exchanged glances with the others on his side of the table.  “Perhaps that might be something we could discuss.”

              Chakrabarti didn’t bother looking at his colleagues; he already knew what their expressions would betray.  Kly would be a cross between greed and suspicion, and Arathos would be amused, reluctant but willing to sell parts of the Republic tech base, if the price was right, but so long as Seylonique retained the juicier bits.  And perhaps even that, if it would help to solidify relations between the two star systems.

              “We can certainly do that,” Sebastian said, also nodding. 

 

              Leicasitaj sat in the ship’s mess hall, a bowl of krill stew in front of him.  He was making this a working lunch, as his datapad was in one hand as well, reading system status reports while he ate.  This “extended patrol” was turning into an exercise in boredom.  Oh, there were normal ship operations to keep everyone busy, but he was reluctant to schedule any serious drills when the ship was in what most likely could be considered a hostile environment.  But after a week of just maintaining station relative to the orbital and just watching the local system traffic, the crew was starting to get restless.

              An indicator light popped up on his HUD.  He pulled out his communicator from his pocket and flipped it open.  “Captain here.”

              “Sorry to disturb your lunch, Captain,” the comm-tech answered.  “We’ve got an incoming transmission from Colonel Gants.”

              Leicasitaj took another swig of his food, then stood.  “I’ll take it in my cabin.  Pipe it there.”

              “Aye, sir.”

              Once in the cabin, he sat at his desk and activated his display.  “Colonel Gants.  How can I assist you today?”

              The man looked back at him, a scowl on his face.  “Captain.  It has come to my attention that you are carrying a large load of gadolinium aboard your ship.”

              The Romigani twitched his facial tentacles.  “I’d like to know where you got that information, sir.”

              “Don’t you worry yourself about that,” Gants replied, his scowl deepening.  “So I can assume that it’s correct.”

              “Yes it is.”

              “Why the
hell
would you keep that information from me?” the man demanded, flushing. 

              “Because the councilors didn’t think you needed to know, Colonel,” Leicasitaj said calmly.  “I was instructed by my superior to bring along a load of gadolinium to either sell or be used a bargaining chip in the negotiations.  I was told to keep quiet about it otherwise.”

              “That doesn’t mean from me!”

              “Colonel,” he said patiently.  “I was told not to tell anyone. 
Anyone
.  My boss wasn’t specific as to why or to whom I exclude.  The councilors were the only ones outside of this ship who were aware that I had the cargo aboard.”  He eyed the man for a moment.  “So I assume that you found out when one of the councilors told you?”

              “That’s not important.  But I want you to transfer the gadolinium over to the
Leytonstone
immediately.”

              But the Romigani refused.  “No, sir.  I’m sorry, but I have orders.”

              “Yes, you do!” the colonel flared.  “You have orders from me!”

              “No, sir, I have orders from my superiors.  I’m sorry but I can’t transfer the gadolinium without the councilors giving me a direct order.”

              Gants growled.  “I am relaying those orders.”

              “Sorry, I don’t want to be difficult, sir, but I must insist.  I would need one of the councilors to tell me to transfer the load.”             

              The colonel stared at him for a long moment without speaking and Leicasitaj felt no need to fill the silence.  It stretched on until finally it appeared the man could not take it any more.  “I won’t forget this, Captain Leicasitaj.”

              The Romigani sighed.  “No, Colonel Gants, I didn’t think you would.  I will await a call from one of the councilors.”  Gants growled and cut the connection.  Leicasitaj sighed.  “That could have gone better.  But I do have orders.”

              He sat at his desk, pulling up some reports that needed going over, knowing that he would be receiving a call soon enough.  Less than five minutes later, the comm panel beeped.  “Sir, we have an incoming call from Councilor Kly for you.”

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