First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (90 page)

              “That only underlines why these talks with Seylonique are so critical,” Shayenne replied, perking up.  “I only wish
we’d
thought of it.”

              Nikolas chuckled.  “Well, we didn’t have as much military might to send into the next system as a show of force in the negotiations.  For some reason, having a frigate or corvette showing up in their system most probably wouldn’t be taken very seriously.”

              “I am not sure about that,” Koton said.  “Having warships showing up in a star system would usually be enough to make the government stand up and notice.”

              “When Seylonique sent that corvette here a few months ago, I noticed,” Nikolas said. 

              Shayenne sneered.  “A wake up call?”

              “No,” he returned, irritated.  “But it was certainly something that made me take notice.  We’ve had a lot of foreign warships coming through our system in the last few years.  And with that flotilla that came through here last year and their fight with that Republic cruiser, and then a few months ago when that Republic destroyer came tearing through the system…”  He trailed off.  “Well, it just seems like we were becoming a more and more inviting target.  We had defensive ships, yes, but we also had more valuable infrastructure.”

              “And now with this ship…” Koton started.

              “We will be able to make any pirate
lord
and his followers think twice about coming here.”  He rubbed the back of his neck.  “If we can actually hammer out an agreement with the people from Seylonique it will only help.”

              Esselon-Moor was just an ugly planet in an ugly system.  It was a brown and green colored planet in an otherwise uninteresting system.  The world was harsh, hot and humid, with a heavy amount of sulphur in the atmosphere, making it toxic for most species.  Zheen, however, had no problems with the atmosphere or the heat or the humidity.  If the Dog Soldiers hadn’t already set themselves up here, Gokon was sure that Lord Verrikoth would love to move in and take up residence.  Unfortunately, aside from the wonderful climate, there wasn’t much here of any interest.  There wasn’t an asteroid belt or moons loaded with precious minerals.  There was a gas giant here, but it was far out from the main planet, and due to its distance from the sun, it was mostly a frozen ball.  Other than a training facility for his troopers, there was very little of interest here for the Dog Soldiers.

              “We’re being hailed by the
Illuyanka
, Trammen,” the comm-tech said, sounding slightly nervous. 

              Gokon nodded.  He could understand the tech’s trepidation; having a light cruiser focus its attention on you when you were aboard a small ship like a cutter did nothing for one’s blood pressure.  Especially when three other corvettes were moving in your direction to cut off any escape as well.  “All right,” he said, sitting up straight in his command seat.  “Put them through.”

              The main screen activated, bringing up an image of a brindled silver and golden furred lupusan female.  “Unidentified cutter, you are in restricted space.  You will state your business, heave to and prepare to be boarded.”  She gave a huge smile, her tongue lolling out of her mouth for a second.  “And if we’re feeling generous, you might not see the shot that kills you.”

              Gokon’s antennae bobbed.  “This is Trammen Gokon, of the warship
Toroj
under the banner of Lord Verrikoth.  I’m here to invite your General and your soldiers to join us in a campaign.”

              “A campaign?” the wolf woman replied.  Clearly, this was not the answer she was expecting.  She eyed him for a long moment.  “You’ve got some serious stones coming here and flapping your mouthparts, bug.”

              “I am here to extend the offer to the General, comm-tech,” Gokon said, ignoring the fear.  “Please pass it on to him.  I will await his answer.”  He pressed a stud on the arm of his chair and the connection ended.  He hissed in relief.  “That could have gone better.  Helm, do you have an escape course ready?”

              The pilot waggled his antennae.  “We’re in trouble, Trammen.  The Dog Soldiers’ ships have us surrounded.  We are not englobed, precisely, but with their ships closing on us as they are, within twenty-four minutes, we will be encased in overlapping fields of fire.  We most likely are already in the
Illuyanka
’s weapons’ range.”

              “Still four minutes from our own weapons’ range,” the tactical operator called out.

              Gokon buzzed in frustration.  “I believe, as you say, we are in trouble.  But I don’t think this is a situation that is going to be resolved by weapons.  At least not on our end.  I’m sure the lupusan would love to blast us out of the sky and go about their business.”

              “Trammen, if we’re going to attempt to run, fast is better,” the pilot reported.  “And sooner.  Once those other ships get too close, we’re finished.”

              “And if we run away?” Gokon snapped, keeping himself perfectly rigid, facing forward.  He didn’t need to see the bulk of the bridge crew of the tiny ship because of his compound eyes, but the effect still was the same.  Everyone turned back to their consoles.  “Assuming we could even escape from General Typhon’s ships, if we returned to Tyseus or to the rendezvous point without his forces, what do you think Lord Verrikoth would say to that?”

              Silence pervaded the bridge, broken only by the occasional beep of the consoles.  “That is why we’re going to stand and wait for the General’s decision.  I know we would all prefer to try and fight, but it’s pointless.  Either he’s going to accept Lord Verrikoth’s decision, or he isn’t.  If we’re lucky enough, he’ll just use his cruiser’s guns to cut us apart.”

              Eyes turned back to him.  “That’s lucky?”

              He hissed.  “Yes, crewman, that’s lucky
enough
.  Because if the General sends boarding parties, I can guarantee we won’t survive and we won’t enjoy what a battalion of lupusan raiders would do to us.  At least the cruiser’s turbolasers would bring about a swift demise.”

              There was a loud beep from the communication console and the comm-tech jumped.  “Incoming transmission from the
Illuyanka
!” he called.  Gokon gestured and the tech put the call through.

              A midnight colored lupusan glared out of the main screen.  Like most of the wolfen species, he had the ability to project malice and intimidation, even from a distance.  “You’re a messenger for Verrikoth.”  It wasn’t a question.

              “General Typhon, sir,” Gokon replied, maintaining a stiff and formal tone.  “Yes, sir, I am Lord Verrikoth’s messenger in this endeavor.  He wishes to know if you would join us on an attack on a nearby system.  The spoils are expected to be quite rich.”

              The lupusan grunted.  “So he calls himself
Lord
now, does he?  Bug’s got ambition.”

              “Lord Verrikoth’s forces smashed the Republic flotilla at Byra-Kae and sent the survivors into panicked flight,” Gokon said, with a trace of pride.  “I believe that warrants an upgrade to my lord’s title if he so chooses.”

              Typhon sat for a moment, then he flicked his ears.  “So, the bug finally did it,” he said, a hint of respect in his tone.  “I’m impressed.  He’s been talking that game for a while and he finally stepped up and did it.”  He nodded.  “So what is he offering?”

              “My lord says that he is willing to split a quarter of the spoils to you and your forces.”  Gokon tried to keep his voice even and calm.

              “Look, insect,” Typhon said, his voice not changing in pitch or volume, but Gokon suddenly felt a wave of fear stab into his thorax.  “Do not insult me.  A quarter of the spoils for my ships and my Grenadiers?  No matter how rich this system is that is nothing but an insult.”  He eyed the zheen.  “I have killed for far less.”

              Gokon buzzed as another stab of fear went through him.  From what he could see of the bridge crew without turning his head (which was just about all of them) they were sharing that same fear.  “I have been authorized by my lord to offer up to a third of the spoils, General.  That is as high as I was told.”  If he was human, he would have gulped.  “Any amount higher than that, you would need to speak with my lord.”

              “Speak with your
Lord
?  A third
is
better.”  He paused, considering.  He turned and started barking orders to someone out of pickup range.  “But my soldiers are getting fat and bored.”  Typhon huffed.  “There is only so much training that can be done, even on a planet such as this one.”

              Gokon didn’t speak, not sure what that meant.  “May I assume then, General, that you will accompany me to the rendezvous point?”

              The general raised one clawed finger, pointing it at the screen.  “Watch your tone, bug.  Provide me with the coordinates of the rendezvous and the time and then depart my system.”

              “But my orders are to escort your ships to the rendezvous, General.  My Lord Verrikoth…”

              “Is not the commander of this system, bug.  Give me the information and leave.”  He leaned in closer to the vid pickup.  “Or else my gunners will have some targeting practice and I will go about my business.  And your master will have lost a ship and crew.”  He paused for a long moment, expecting a reply.  “What will it be?”

              Gokon turned and motioned to the comm-tech.  “I am sending the information now, General.  I will be departing the system now, and will await your ships at the rendezvous.”

              “A very wise decision, bug.  Now go.”  And he ended the call.

              Gokon buzzed for a long moment, his antennae drooping.  “Navigation, plot us a course for the hyper limit on a vector for the rendezvous.  Helm, engage engines as soon as you have the course.  No abrupt acceleration; I don’t want the General or his ship Leaders to get nervous.”

              After a few moments, the ship got underway and slowly accelerated away from the planet and the General’s ships.  One of the corvettes peeled away from the others and followed after, never intercepting or overtaking the
Toroj
, but just keeping the cutter in sensor range long enough to confirm that they were outbound for the hyper limit.  Not that Gokon would have been stupid or suicidal enough to try and loop back around.  No, he had obeyed his lord’s command, he had delivered the message and hopefully the general would show up.  Lord Verrikoth would not understand or appreciate Gokon arriving at the rendezvous without Typhon and his Dog Soldiers. 

              “I sure hope that the general comes to the rendezvous,” Gokon hissed quietly.  Then he straightened.  “Continue on course.”

              Nikolas, Shayenne and Koton, as well as the other members of the governing council were going over the latest draft of the trade agreement when the doors to the council chambers slid open.  The executive secretary stepped inside and hustled over to the President. 

              “What is it, Gerald?”

              “Sorry to disturb you, Mister President.  There’s an incoming transmission from the fueling station.  It’s Goris Hana, sir.”

              Nikolas leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands and letting out a long breath.  “Damn it.  We were doing so well.”  He slapped his hands down on the arms of his chair.  “Very well.  Put the transmission through, that monitor.”  He gestured.

              The aide nodded, pressing a control on his datapad and the screen activated.  Goris Hana’s jowled face appeared.  It appeared he was more greasy and toadlike than ever, and it also appeared that the months which had passed since Nikolas had seen the man had made him angrier.

              “So, what’s this I hear that there is a high-level conference going on in this system?” the man demanded.  He wasn’t asking anything; he was putting forth the statement as though he was owed an answer.  “There was a fleet of ships that came in – from Seylonique of all places!  And now they’re here, meeting with the ‘governing council’, ha!”  He said the words with such derision.  The toad’s face changed, projecting such malice and scorn that Nikolas wanted to take a step back.  “And now I find that the fleet is here to discuss a high-level trade agreement and I wasn’t invited.  I, who provides you all with fuel to keep the lights on and the air scrubbers running.  This is an insult.  A grave insult.  One that requires payback.”  He looked to the side, at something outside the vid pickup.  “I could just cut off the fuel supply to the orbital, you know.  Then you’d respect me.  But then you’d send the SDF ships out to my fueling station and Commodore Saroyan would get a chance to show what a big man he is and mistakes could be made.”             

              “He is such a blowhard,” Shayenne sneered.

              Nikolas gestured to Gerard, who paused the playback.  “He is, yes,” the President replied.  “But I don’t like the amount of control he maintains because of the fuel he possesses.  And we allow it.”

              The others looked at the president in shock.  “You’re thinking of sending our ships over to the station and send in troops to secure the station?” Koton asked, the voice still the same monotone, but his own voice, the hissing and clicking, sounding less urgent.