First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (63 page)

              But Vincent interrupted.  “Like I said, Governor, I am very happy that I was able to get my ship back here with the fuel you needed.  The last thing I would want to happen is for your city not to get the fuel it was so desperately needing.  But I was wondering about the fuel collector.  It’s full.”

              Acheron set his jaw.  “It is?” he asked, trying to sound surprised.

              “Yes,” Vincent said, staring at him intently.  “And I just have to wonder, Governor, why wouldn’t you send shuttles up to the collector and get the fuel that’s waiting there?  With three shuttles running that would keep you going for another three and a half months at current consumption levels.”

              “Oh, would it?” he asked, knowing that Eamonn wasn’t buying it.  He nodded, as though considering options.  “That sounds like something we should-…”

              “Governor, please.  I know something is going on.  Something bad.  If you tell me, maybe I can help.”  The man seemed so… sincere. 

              Acheron wanted to believe him.  He did.  He truly did.  In fact, if it wasn’t for Eamonn and his ship and his engineers, Vanoria wouldn’t be as on the rise as it was.  So many people would have succumbed to cancers and other radiation-related sicknesses without him.  The city would be back in the candles and torchlight level of civilization without Eamonn and his He3 power plants.  His people had been a godsend, but the man was pushing himself into things that didn’t concern him,
shouldn’t
concern him.

              “I don’t think that you can, Captain,” Acheron said, his voice heavy.  “This is not something that you can help with.  This is just the situation here on the ground at Vanoria and I’ll thank you to keep out of it.”

              “Where are your shuttles, Governor?  I should be able to track them, they have locator beacons that my sensors and com-techs can ping, but I’m not able to.  So that means that you’ve either disassembled them, you’ve destroyed them or they’ve been taken off planet or otherwise shielded.  And I have to ask you, why wouldn’t you want me to know about this?  You bought those shuttles from me and the last time we spoke you were over the moon about them.  You loved those little ships and were working with your government to see if there was some way to work the budget to get another one.  Now all of a sudden you’re freezing me out?”

              “What do you want from me?” Acheron snapped, finally breaking.  “Yes, I love those little ships, and I appreciate the tech and the equipment and the medicine you’ve brought here has been nothing less than spectacular, miraculous even.  But… Things are not the same as they were even a few months ago.  There are some developments…”  He cleared his throat, composing himself.  “At this time, Captain, all I can say is that there are things going on in my government that I cannot talk about.  I appreciate your concern, but for now we just need you to continue with as you are.  If you can keep the fuel flowing, we should continue having a happy and profitable business relationship.”

              Vincent eyed him thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face.  “But about the shuttles and the fuel collector?”

              “I will speak with my tech people, Captain,” Acheron assured him.  “I don’t want to get into the situation that we were in before.  But I will look into purchasing a new shuttle on your next visit, Captain.  I am still seeing if I can push it through on the budget.”

              Vincent nodded.  “I understand, Governor.”  He hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it.  “I’ll look forward to your call.  My ship will be in orbit for another three days, then we will be departing.  Feel free to contact me at any time.”

              “I will remember that, Captain Eamonn.”  He nodded to the captain and then cut the connection.  Once the call ended, the governor visibly slumped.  He lurched to his feet and made his way over to the small liquor cabinet.  He had another call to make.

              Leader Mogrin was seated in his small cabin aboard
Sessilan
.  He enjoyed the small perks of his job, and getting even a modicum of privacy was something that the commander of a ship like this should be able to expect.  Lord Verrikoth gave his ship commanders a lot of leeway in what they did aboard those ships; so long as his directives were carried out, they were given free reign.  Aboard
Kerala
(before its destruction) there were a number of slaves, to use and abuse by the crew.  Some of the stories that came from that ship had made even Mogrin’s skin crawl.  Of course, that ship was gone now, destroyed, though a handful of the crew managed to get into escape pods.

              Mogrin would have allowed a few… distractions aboard his ship, in fact, he wouldn’t have minded having one or two for himself, but there simply wasn’t room aboard the very cramped corvette.  He could have one or two for himself, but there wouldn’t be enough for the crew and Mogrin wanted to keep their morale up.  Better that there be
no
pleasure slaves and some grumbling than only one or two and a possible mutiny.

              Upon the flotilla’s departure from Byra-Kae, Verrikoth had taken stock of his forces and decided that his forces might be better served spread out.  The Republic base had been crushed, their ships would flee to back to their own space and he would be free to pursue his own interests here.  And while he did desire to rule these stars, he knew that would require resources and above all, fear.  Simple raiding served its purpose and increased his coffers, yes, but better if the citizens of the Argos Cluster accepted his rule and paid him for the privilege. 

              Mogrin’s initial orders upon being sent here to Heb were to make the locals see that it would be best if they served their new lord willingly.  So he brought his two ships,
Sessilan
and
Toroj
to the system and firebombed a few small, worthless islands.  Once the reports of the damage had been received in the four cities, he began requesting tribute, starting with the largest and most modern of the four, Vanoria.  They had a trio of very nice cargo shuttles that his lord would appreciate, as well as a large load of highly refined helium 3 fuel.  Both of these things were highly prized and would please his lord.

              But now the arrival of trade ships and their military escort bothered Mogrin.  Where were they coming from?  Their vector indicated that they were coming from Seylonique, but that was impossible.  No one had flown out of that star system in decades and certainly nothing in as good repair.  Hell, the smaller cargo ship and the warship looked to be brand new!  And now they had a fighter escort and altogether, it was unlikely that Mogrin could beat them with the two ships he had with him.  So he continued to hide his ships behind planetary bodies, keeping away from their annoying sensor probes.

              And now that cowardly worm Vall was contacting him again.  They already made the payment for Lord Verrikoth’s protection.  Did they want to pay more? 
I’m up for that.
  He pressed the key to activate comms.  “This is Leader Mogrin.  You got some serious guts calling me.  I thought we had an arrangement.  You don’t call me, I send someone to talk to you.”

              The man visibly paled, but it was clear that he was steeling himself.  “I need to talk with you about the shuttles.”

              Mogrin’s somewhat playful mood faded.  Those three shuttles were currently locked onto
Sessilan
’s hull, ready to be transported to Tyseus for Lord Verrikoth.  “What about my shuttles?  Or I should say,
Lord Verrikoth
’s shuttles?”

              Acheron straightened his spine.  “I need to request that you leave one here.  Now, before you get upset,” he said, raising his hands, “The reason I’m requesting this is because there’s a fuel collector in atmosphere of the gas giant.”

              “And?” he asked, leaning to the side on one elbow. 
Fletcher’s Dolly
was already loaded up with as much fuel as she could carry, so the fact that there was a collector here wasn’t really something that he was all that interested in. 

              “And,” the governor said, swallowing hard, “if I have one of the shuttles here, I can
collect
fuel from there, and have more for payment when you come back.  It also allows me to have more in reserve so that I don’t have to worry about blackouts.”  He seemed to be gathering his inner strength.  “If the power goes out, then so do the industries we have here, and then the money stops.  We won’t be able to make our next payment.”

              Mogrin started to smile viciously, but Acheron cut him off.  “If we can’t pay, they you start shooting, or you kill me and install someone you think might be more pliable.  But that doesn’t change the fact that we can’t pay.  So all you end up doing is firebombing this world, killing a bunch of people but you lose out on all the potential profits you could get from us.”

              The pirate leader considered that.  Finally he nodded.  “Fine.  One shuttle.  Once the tradeships depart, I will bring it back.”

              Acheron nodded.  “Understood.  And I ask that you not hurt them, either.  They’re the ones who bring us almost all of the fuel as well as other items for trade.  We need their business, and by extension, so do you.”

              Mogrin scowled.  “Don’t think that you can dictate terms to me, Governor.  Or you will rapidly find yourself unemployed and buried.  And I will be working with your replacement.”  He glared at the screen, seeing that little worm try to wiggle away.  “Don’t call me again.  I will make sure you will regret it.”  And he cut the connection.  He sighed to the empty room.  “I must be getting soft.”

              “All right, let’s pack it up,” Vincent said, slapping the table.  “I know that you’ve already loaded us back up with some new cargoes, good catch on those ground cars, by the way.  I can’t believe you managed to get so many.”

              Ardeth smiled, ducking his head slightly.  “Well, I saw them sitting there, and after that conversation I had with the dealer back on Seylonique, it just seemed like fate.  I couldn’t just leave them there.  Probably will do okay, profit wise, though we’ll have to see if the factories here will be interested in setting up things on a more regular basis, especially if we’re going to be continuing with the regular runs for fuel.”

              Vincent nodded.  “I can’t see that the people on Seylonique are going to be terribly interested in petro-chemical burning vehicles.”

              Ardeth shrugged, still smiling.  “Maybe.  I think that there might still be a market for them, but I think that either our engineers or one of the companies back home might be able to change out the engines for the capacitor-powered ones.”

              “Something to look into,” Vincent agreed, rubbing his chin.  “I don’t know how many of the vehicles we can reasonably expect to bring back to Seylonique, but I think we might be able to work bringing a few hundred, at least for now.  Maybe if things at Ulla-tran pan out, we might have more of a market to work with.”

              “When we get back, Captain, I’ll get with the AI’s and see what we can figure out.”  Ardeth was smiling at the opportunity.  He got up to depart the wardroom, but then looked back.  “Oh, Captain, any word on what happened to the locals’ shuttles that we gave them?”

              Vincent sighed.  “No.  Governor Vall is giving me the runaround.  So far Stella and George have had no luck in finding any of the shuttles on the surface, and we’re not getting any returns on the pings we’ve been sending.  If they’re still on the planet, the locals have disabled the transponders.”

              Ardeth shook his head, clearly confused.  “What the hell, Captain?  I mean, we’re gone for a few months and all three shuttles disappear?  I mean, why spend all of resources they did to get them from us if they’re not going to last?”

              “I don’t know,” Vincent replied.  He lightly tapped the table.  “And I think we’ve moved to the part of the conversation where it isn’t our problem.  We sold them the amount of He3 we’d agreed on, it’s up to them to make sure they make it last.  And if they have someone else they want to sell to, well…”

              “But if they aren’t responsible, Captain…” the cargo specialist asked, letting his voice trail off. 

              “If they aren’t responsible, that’s their problem, Mister Marven.  It isn’t up to us to make sure they’re making the most of their resources.  The next time we come back here, we can make sure we have more fuel to sell, but other than that, what they do with it all is their business.”

              The cargo specialist gave a heavy sigh, nodded, and then turned and left the wardroom. 

              Vincent looked at the computer monitors for several long minutes.  “Stella?  Make sure all crew know that we’re getting ready to move out.”

              “Aye, Captain,” she said, her face appearing on the monitor. 

              “Anything from Captain Leicasitaj on that stray signal he detected?”

              She shook her head.  “Nothing that he’s reported to me.”  A two second pause.  “I’ve linked with
Mondragon
’s datanet.  They’re still analyzing, Captain.  I can interface with them and assist if you like?”