First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 (82 page)

              “Good.  I’ll be along shortly.  Dismissed.”

              The man gave a quick salute (which was unnecessary since they weren’t part of a formal military force) and then turned and exited Leicasitaj’s quarters.  He couldn’t see it, but the Romigani could just imagine his XO taking a deep breath of the much less humid air out in the corridor.  He laughed to himself and then winced as he was hit with a twinge of pain.  He’d give it another day, taking the meds as ordered by the doctor.  But if this didn’t shape up soon, then he knew he’d have to go back to the doc for a follow up.  As far as he was told, none of the others had had as extreme a reaction.

              He squared his shoulders and followed his XO out.  There were things to do, people to get in touch with and as ever, the bane of captains and officers everywhere: paperwork.

              “I cannot believe that you’re going along with this,” Hyacinth Cresswell seethed.  She was in her luxurious apartment aboard the orbital station, seated at her desk with the comm display open.  Harmon Kly was on the other end, but he wasn’t sitting and calmly looking back at her.  He was clearly busy, his eyes flitting back and forth between screens, hands moving.  Clearly he was getting himself ready, downloading whatever files and reports he thought he was going to need.  “No, I can’t believe you actually volunteered for this insanity!”

              He chuckled, still looking at another display outside of the vid pickup.  “It’s an opportunity of a lifetime, actually.  To be the one who secured a pact between Seylonique and an outside system?  Can you imagine the prestige attached to that?”

              She snorted, leaning back in her padded chair and swiveling to the side.  “That sounds great.  But you’re not going to be the one doing the negotiating.  Or at least, your name isn’t going to be the one remembered.  Chakrabarti is heading the delegation.”

              He shrugged.  “I know.  But I think I might be able to do enough moving and shaking behind the scenes while all the real focus will be on him.  While all the
scrutiny
is on him.”

              She raised her eyebrows.  “That’s a point.  But that also implies that you’ll be able to meet with your counterparts at Ulla-tran.”

              “True, but I think that it should be doable, so long as the locals there don’t just open fire on us as soon as we close with the planet.”

              “You’ll be riding in a battlecruiser,” she reminded him tartly.  “With a strong escort.  Unless they’ve got one of their own hiding out where Samair’s ships didn’t see, I can’t imagine they’d be stupid enough to fire on you.  At least until they gathered up every one of their defense ships to try and encircle you.”

              He glanced at her.  “You’re in a hell of a mood today.  Upset that you walked out of the council meeting before the good stuff?”

              “I think this is a mistake.  I’ve made no secret of that.”

              He chuckled, eyes going back to his displays to the side.  “No, you were quite clear on your position.  Mostly when you stormed out of the meeting.”

              “So you’re really determined to go through with this?”

              He stopped and turned his attention back to the comm display.  “Why do you care all of a sudden?  Why are we even still talking about this?”

              She grimaced.  “I don’t want the battlecruiser to leave the system.”

              He raised an eyebrow.  “We kind of need it.  Colonel Gants did make a good point, we need to project an image of strength and nothing says strength like the
Leytonstone
would.”

              “But we need that ship here,” Cresswell protested, sitting up straighter.

              “We need that ship in both places,” he argued.  “But we’ve only got one battlecruiser, and the council decided that it’s going to Ulla-tran.”

              “You’re not the least bit worried that the system might be attacked while you’re gone?”

              He glared at her.  “I thought you never really believed in that pirate claptrap.”

              She huffed.  “I don’t.  But it’s easier to disbelieve that when there’s a battlecruiser here to keep us safe.”

              Kly stared at her for a long moment, not speaking.  “I’ve never seen this vulnerable side of you before.  I have to say I’m not sure how to handle it.”

              “Chakrabarti is an idiot,” she retorted.  “You’d better bring back a trade agreement, one that favors us over Ulla-tran.  Make this whole ridiculous endeavor worth it.”  And she reached out and cut the connection, interrupting him in mid-reply.

              She sat there and stewed for a long few moments.  Kly didn’t call back, which gave her mixed feelings.  It wasn’t as though she really wanted to talk with him anyway, since he was clearly distracted and insufferably smug since this whole mission had come up.  Hyacinth sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.  Why did she feel this way?  It wasn’t as though she believed that Republic Commodore or Captain Eamonn.  Oh, she’d seen the scan footage, the same as the rest of the council, and while it was clear that it hadn’t been faked (as far as she was concerned), but she was convinced that the Republic ships had hit the pirate flotilla hard enough that they weren’t going to be any threat to anyone for a long while.  Besides, pirates couldn’t stay together for very long anyway.  The kind of temperament and aggression that inevitably led to infighting, which would be why no real pirates had ever been seen in Seylonique.  That and the menacing presence of the
Leytonstone
.  But after all this time, she tried to reassure herself, what were the odds that
any
pirate ships would show up here during the few months
Leytonstone
was gone, along with her escorts?

              “This had better be worth it,” she muttered.

              “I want to make sure it’s clear just who has authority on this mission,” Chakrabarti said to the room at large.  The conference room was surprisingly light on personnel; only himself, Triarch Kozen’ck, Kly, Arathos, and Colonel Gants, who was attending the meeting via comlink.  The colonel’s face was on the display to the side of the conference table, the Triarch had his normal place at the head of the table, while the other three sat opposite the colonel’s image.

              Gants frowned, the other two on the negotiating team made other signs of irritation.  “Triarch, why are we having this meeting?  All of you are members of the Administratory Council, your authority is already established.  Unless there are any serious matters we need to discuss, I have things to do on my ship.”  He looked as though he was reaching to close the channel.

              “Just a moment, Colonel,” Chakrabarti said quickly, before he could end the call.  “I want to make sure this is firmly established before we’re out of the system.”

              Kozen’ck waggled his antennae, clearly not happy with this situation.  But he wasn’t speaking.  Finally, he leaned forward.  “What exactly is it that you want, Councilor?”

              “I want to make sure that the Colonel here,” he pointed to the display, “Understands just who is in command of the mission.”

              “That would be you, Councilor,” the Triarch said, cutting off what looked to be the start of a particularly heated tirade.  “But as far as matters concerning the
Leytonstone
or the other warships in the task force that is going to Ulla-tran, those fall under the responsibilities of Colonel Gants.  He is in command of the warship flotilla, you are in command of the mission.  You will not micromanage him, Councilor.  Councilors,” he indicated, his antennae sweeping back and forth, as though he was pointing at all of the males on that side of the table.  “If the Colonel is doing something that appears to be compromising your mission or your negotiations, you have the authority to step in.  But other than that,” and he gestured to the councilors, “do not interfere with his command of those warships.  Am I clear?”

              They nodded.  “If that’s all, Councilors?” Gants asked again.

              “And Colonel,” Kozen’ck said, turning to look at the display.  “Do not push this.  Yes, you command the
Leytonstone
and the rest of the warships, even the one coming from First Principles, but this mission is critical.  I want it clearly understood that this mission has top priority for both government, the people and by extension, you.  Do you read me?”

              Gants nodded.  “Of course, Triarch.  I will do everything I can to make sure that this trade negotiation is a success.  Despite what you’re clearly thinking of me, this dumb brute of a military officer, I believe that this is in my best interest as well.  I intend to show the people of Ulla-tran how a real military officer behaves.”

              Kozen’ck clicked his mouthparts.  “Thank you, Colonel.  We have some things to discuss.  You may return to your duties.”  The battlecruiser commander nodded and signed off, the display going blank.  “Now, are you satisfied, Councilor Chakrabarti?”  It was clear that the head of the council was determined to get past this and move on to new business.

              “I am, Triarch,” the man replied, and both he and Kly looked smug.  The zheen let that pass.

              “Now, I want to hammer out some details about these trade talks.  I wish we had a read on what our counterparts in Ulla-tran are going to be like, but we don’t.”

              “No,” Kly agreed.  “I wish we had that too.  But, I’ve been on the comms with absolutely everyone in this system who has ever spent any amount of time in that system, which includes freighter crews, and FP personnel.  I haven’t had much time, based on the expedited time frame of this mission, but they’ve all been helpful.”

              The others all turned and looked at the man.  Harmon Kly was known for being pompous, arrogant and enterprising.  However, when he got his teeth sunk into something, he had all the tenacity of a mongoose fighting a cobra.  The man was vicious, relentless and would do whatever it took… so long as he himself wouldn’t suffer.  But it appeared as though he was burning through the midnight oil on this one.  “What?” he demanded.  “I want this trade negotiation to go through smoothly.  And any insight these people might have on the Ulla-trans could potentially be helpful.”

              “I agree,” Chakrabarti said with a small smile.  “I’m just surprised at the zeal with which you’re attacking this mission.”

              He shrugged.  “I don’t want this system to be embarrassed, and I want us to be able to secure a deal.  Preferably the best deal we can manage.  Is that so wrong?”

              Arathos huffed a laugh.  “No, it isn’t.  But it’s uncharacteristic of you to be so enthusiastic about something that has no direct effect on you.”

              Kly looked to the others and put on a face of innocence.  “Anything that increases the prosperity of the Seylonique system has an effect on me.”

              The lupusan snorted.  “Yes, I’m sure it does.”

              “Oh go to hell,” the man retorted.  “I’m dedicated to make this work.  Is there a measure of personal gain here?  Of course.  The whole thing is
intended
for this system to gain.”  He waved a hand.  “Oh, them too, but if we can make this thing work, then everybody wins and we start carving out a little empire out here in the Argos Cluster.  Think about it.  How long has it been since anyone has actually thought this area of space has been worth a damn?”  He looked around the room.  “At all?”

              “Empire?” Kozen’ck repeated.  “Who said anything about that?”

              “Oh, not literally,” Kly said quickly, waving his hands.  “Although I’m sure Colonel Gants and his ships and soldiers
could
do a good job of that, that’s not what I meant.”  Chakrabarti didn’t look convinced by that denial, but he didn’t refute it.  “We have two of the only space-faring star systems on this side of the Cluster in even a partial alliance?  The things we could do from that point are astounding.  Which is why I’m so passionate about this.  Tamara Samair is a piece of work; you all know my feelings about her.  But her coming whining to us about how one of her freighter crews was treated gave us the perfect pretext for pushing forward with these negotiations.  Hell, even thinking of doing this in the first place.” 

              The others exchanged glances but it was clear he’d gotten through to all of them.  Finally, Kozen’ck spoke up.  “Very well.  So, in all of your diligent work, Harmon, what have you learned?”

              Kly nodded, picking up his datapad and bringing up some of his notes.  “Well, not as much as I’d like about their political system or the players involved.  But it seems there are actually two different centers of authority in that system.  One of them is here,” he said, activating a macros on his datapad, which brought up the Ulla-tran system map on the main display.  A blip appeared around the gas giant closest to the inhabited planet.  “There is a fueling station in orbit of this planet, and at last count, they had twenty or so fuel collectors in the gas giant’s atmosphere.  Similar to Samair’s gas mine, but on a much smaller scale.  And I guess the fueling station is run by a man named Goris Hana, and he treats the place like his personal fiefdom.”

              “Is he going to be a problem?” Arathos asked, studying the information.

              Harmon tipped his head to the side.  “Possibly.  From what I’ve been able to gather from the various people I’ve spoken with, it seems that Mister Hana here holds significant power in the system because he’s in charge of the fuel.  Samair has instituted a strict hands-off policy when it comes to her trade vessels.  I guess the good Mister Hana has a habit of attacking and capturing ships that come in to his sphere of influence that he feels won’t be missed.”  He pressed a control on his datapad and a picture of the man appeared.  It was clearly a shot taken from security footage, but it was a clear enough picture.

              “He’s a pirate?” Sebastian demanded, looking back and forth between his fellow councilor and the bloated features of the fueling station leader.