Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2

by Michael Kotcher

  “Saiphirelle,” Tamara said in return, coming to a stop. The two females nodded to each other. “What’s up?”

  “Are you going to leave?” Saiphirelle asked bluntly. “When we get to the station, I mean.”

  Tamara blinked. That certainly was not what she’d expected. “No. I’m going to stay.”

  “Even after all that’s happened?” The lupusan seemed surprised at the engineer’s answer.

  “Well, Stella’s here and she’s a bit of a worry wart,” Tamara said brightly. “I don’t want her to think I’d abandon her. And the ship needs fixing. I have a working relationship with the captain, a job I like and friends in the crew. Assuming they don’t all jump ship, why would I leave?”

  Saiphirelle considered this for a moment and then bobbed her head up and down. “I see. I was just checking. Corajen’s making a list.”

  “Are you staying?”

  Saiphirelle snorted, and Tamara could feel the hot breath on her face from the few feet that separated them. “Of course I’m staying. My sister and I just took this bucket back, we’re not about to abandon now.” She reached out one of her hands and clapped Tamara gently, for her, on the shoulder. Tamara had to put effort into keeping her knees from buckling. “Besides, you got out and kicked a little ass too. I’m glad you’ll be sticking around. Though I gotta say, it would be nice to find a world with some decent game on it. I would love to go for a proper hunt.” A feral, hungry look got into the lupusan’s eyes and her big tongue ran and licked the edges of her muzzle. She smiled a wolfish smile at Tamara’s unconscious reaction to the predator’s desire for a fresh kill. “Well, I’ll let Corajen know. See you around.” And the lupusan strode off, humming to herself.

  Tamara stood there and listened to the other go, wondering what a “proper hunt” entailed. And what a lupusan hunting song might be.

  “This is Orbital Station One to Grania Estelle,” the voice came clearly over the comms as the ship came to a dead stop relative to the station. “State your business here.”

  “Captain?” Serinda said, looking up at him.

  “Put me on,” he told her.

  She pressed two controls. “You’re good.”

  “This is Captain Vincent Eamonn of the Grania Estelle. We are here to look into trade opportunities, also to repair some damage done to our ship during our transit.”

  There was a pause. “We do not look kindly on troublemakers.”

  “Sir, what is your name?” Eamonn asked. “I like to know who I’m speaking with.”

  “This is Comm Tech Rosen,” the voice replied. Despite the Captain’s use of a pronoun, the voice itself was so neutral that it was impossible to determine gender. Or species for that matter.

  “I’d like to speak with someone regarding the sale of several canisters of helium 3 fuel we’re carrying,” Eamonn went on. “I’d like to establish an account here and work to start up other avenues for mutual profit. As well as fix my ship.”

  Another pause. “Do you intend to dock at the station?”

  “Not at this time. Our structural integrity is pretty bad right now due to damage. For the moment, we would like to send over shuttles to ferry personnel and goods.”

  “Very well,” Rosen replied. “You can send your shuttles. Land in Bay 16 on Hub Four. I’m sending the frequency for the traffic beacon to direct you. Your shuttles must maintain safe transit speeds. Any personnel that come to the station must obey all local laws.”

  “Understood. And thank you.” He paused a second before jumping ahead. “We’re also looking to find some friends of ours, they were supposed to be here ahead of us. The ship is the Kara. Are they here?”

  “Yes, they arrived about a week ago; they’re docked at Hub Two. I’m sure you can find your way over to them.”

  “Yes, I’m sure we can. Thank you for your assistance,” Eamonn replied.

  “You’re welcome,” Rosen said, voice flat. “Station One out.”

  “All right,” Eamonn said, pressing the control on the arm of his chair to end the transmission on their end. “We’re good to go. We’re going to have to get in touch with people on the station, look to sell the fuel we’ve designated.” He nodded.

  “Captain?” Serinda asked. “What about the people that are going to leave? I hear that Taja is going to be one of them. Who’s taking over for cargo?”

  Eamonn scowled, but quickly covered it up behind his blank mask. “I will for now. We’ll look to hire on a new cargo chief as well as others to fill out the crew roster.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. He blinked and the tension vanished. “I’ll be in the boat bay.” He rose from his seat and almost ran out of the bridge.

  The boat bay was crowded, at least more so than it normally was. Seventeen people from various divisions on the ship had decided that they were going to be leaving, Taja among them. Not surprisingly, Frederick Vosteros was also part of that group, though neither of his other two former crew were there. He had never wanted to be part of Grania Estelle’s company anyway and Eamonn didn’t begrudge him wanting to leave. He was a ship captain in his own right. Maybe by staying here, he could find another ship and get back into space.

  The people who were leaving were doing so with their few possessions, duffels of clothes even a trunk or two among the group. Few of them had much in the way of actual credits or specie, however. Most of what they did have was electronically recorded in the ship’s databanks. That didn’t help any of them, however, because there was no bank account here, but the Captain was looking to remedy that.

  He stepped into the boat bay, up to where the departing crewmembers were milling about, preparing to board the shuttle to head over to the station. Two of the ship’s three shuttles were going over; one carrying those departing the ship, the other carrying two of the large canisters of the helium 3 fuel Eamonn was going to sell to the station.

  He looked around at the seventeen. He wanted to feel angry at their departure, to feel betrayed that they had all decided to leave the ship, leave him. But he couldn’t lie to himself. Ever since it all came down at Ulla-tran, his ship had not been safe. And even the arrival here in Seylonique, as it turned out, the ship wasn’t even structurally sound anymore. The ship was probably marked. Even with the death of the pirates aboard the ship, Verrikoth would remember the Grania Estelle, the civilian bulk freighter his forces had captured. And in a few weeks or months’ time when he found out the ship never made it to Amethyst, he might eventually send out ships to come looking for them and anyone on board would be in danger again. They’d have a window of time before Verrikoth would learn about the ship not arriving and then he would send out another ship to investigate.

  “In a minute I’m going to have you all board the shuttle and we’ll fly you all over to the station. I’m sorry to see you all go and I’d like you to know that should any of you change your minds, you’ll be welcomed back, with no questions asked.” He swallowed hard and swept his gaze over them. “Once we get the fuel over to the station, I’m going to be selling it and establishing a financial account. From that I will be able to pay you out the money you’re owed from the accounts on the ship and a small severance. I wish I could do more for you, but as I’m sure you know, up until very recently, we haven’t been doing all that well on the money front.” There were grumbles at this, but a harsh look from Taja silenced them. Out of all of them, she would know exactly how much money was available.

  “So I’ll need to ask your forbearance for a few hours once we reach the station. Once that is completed, I’ll pay you out your money and you’ll be free to be on your way.” No one responded. Everyone was trying to look at anything in the boat bay but each other and the Captain. Taja’s gaze was laser focused on the open hatch of the shuttle. Eamonn looked at them all for another moment, and then gestured for them to get onboard. With various mutters and low conversation among them, everyone entered the shuttle and found a seat. Taja took a seat toward the middle, looking at her datapad. Eamonn could tell that she
wasn’t really reading it; it was only something so that she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with anyone, with him.

  Clenching his teeth, he moved forward into the cockpit, plunking down in the pilot’s seat. A moment later, Saiphirelle came and took the copilot’s chair. Since the security division aboard the ship had dwindled down to Saiphirelle and her sister, unfortunately the ability to keep the crew safe was severely limited. It would be her job to go with him to deal with setting up accounts and selling off the fuel while the others hung around the shuttle. Once that was done, he’d come back and give them their pay and then he and Saiphirelle would be heading back to the ship.

  The trip over to the station only took a few minutes, during which time the people in the back carried on conversations among themselves, some of them were depressed at having to leave the ship, leaving the familiar. Others were cheery, happy to be out of that place of danger and death, looking forward to new lives and new opportunities.

  Working with the people on the station turned out to be simplicity in itself. Once the word got out that the newest inbound freighter was selling premium grade helium 3 fuel, everyone from the shuttle operators to the station engineers to private dealers were screaming to buy. Eamonn was able to unload the canisters for a very nice profit, giving him more than enough capital to pay the now former members of his crew with some left over for a partial resupply. Selling the fuel took less than an hour. During the transactions, one of the station engineers recommended a bank for Eamonn to set up an account from which to do business. Getting to the financial Hub of the station on Hub One took another thirty minutes of walking. There was a tram that ran through the various hubs, but the Captain declined, wanting to see the station for himself.

  He wasn’t disappointed. The station was large and impressive. Each of the outer Hubs were built with docking slips, cargo bays, warehouses, as well as transient housing and the occasional bar, tattoo parlor or restaurant. There was little in the way of fine dining, according to the directory consoles, those establishments were located in the largest, central Hub. Numerous businesses had small satellite offices located in the outer Hubs, as well as larger ones in the central. Administration for the station and planetary government were also located within the main Hub, as was permanent housing.

  Vincent Eamonn stepped inside the office of the local financial institution, Ganner and Saiorse Interplanetary, which seemed to be a more upscale establishment than what he was expecting. The deck was covered with a deep maroon carpeting, while the bulkheads were painted a bright white, with glowpanels casting illumination up from the deck. There was a reception desk a few meters inside the door made from a dark wood, with a young human female seated behind the desk and offices behind. She was dressed smartly in a blue pinstripe suit, her auburn hair done up very handsomely. She smiled at the Captain as he entered. Seeing her and the very fancy digs of Ganner and Saiorse Interplanetary, Eamonn felt very grubby in his shipsuit and leather jacket.

  “Hello, sir. How can I help you today?” the woman asked pleasantly, though she gave him a frankly appraising look, which barely masked her growing disdain.

  “I’m here to open an account,” he said, adjusting the knapsack over his shoulder. It was full of the currency the buyers had paid him for the fuel and he would be very happy to get it off his hands. Having a lupusan bodyguard by his side made him feel much more secure, but he’d be far happier when it was safely in an account.

  She frowned at him. “I’m sorry, sir. Ganner and Saiorse deals with large business accounts. We can’t open one for an… individual such as yourself with such… modest means.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You can’t open an account for me even though I’m coming in here with cash and hard currency, just because I’m not wearing a three thousand credit suit? Even though I’m the one who owns the bulk freighter that just arrived in system?”

  “I’m sure there are other places that would be happy to assist you with your little business, sir.” The receptionist’s voice was disdainful now.

  He stood there, fuming for a moment. Saiphirelle snickered next to him, but didn’t speak. He started to turn to leave, just about fed up with the woman’s attitude, but then changed his mind. Eamonn walked to the reception desk. “Get me a representative, now,” he said, putting every ounce of command presence he possessed into that order.

  “Sir, I think it is time that you and your… compatriot… left this compartment,” she replied, her hand sliding under the desk.

  Grabbing the knapsack, he upended it on the desk. The woman’s eyes bulged nearly out of her head at seeing the hundreds of thousands worth of credit chits that were forming into a respectable pile. “This is over three hundred thousand credits,” Eamonn declared, his eyes locked on her face, but his hand gestured to the pile. Then, only after ten or so seconds he began to sweep the pile back into his knapsack. “But, since my business is too paltry and ‘little’, I believe is the word you used, I’ll be taking my money elsewhere.”

  The receptionist visibly gulped, turning pale. “Forgive me, sir. My words were ill-considered. Please forgive me, sir.” She pressed a control on the top of the desk, but Eamonn did not stop his collection of the credit chits. Her gaze turned to panic. “Please, sir, don’t leave. I have summoned one of our account executives, she would be more than happy to assist you with whatever you need.” Her pleading look was turning desperate.

  Once the money was back in his knapsack, he stood and fumed for another long moment. But then he relented. He nodded. “Let me speak with this executive,” he said, his voice harsh. He eyed her angrily. “If I decide your services are what I need, I will consider opening an account here.”

  At that moment, a very well-dressed human woman, in a burnt umber and gold business suit carrying a datapad bustled into the reception area. She was in her mid-fifties, with streaks of gray in her dark hair and more than a few wrinkles in her dusky skin, which was so dark as to be almost black. She smiled broadly as she saw Eamonn and Saiphirelle.

  “Good sir, I am Hycinth Madras, senior account executive at this branch of Ganner and Saiorse.” Hustling straight up to the Captain she extended her hand. Eamonn slipped the knapsack over his shoulder again and took her hand, giving it a firm shake before releasing it. “I understand you wish to open an account with us and I couldn’t be more pleased. But before we go any further, please allow me to extend my most sincere apologies for any misunderstandings that might have occurred. I assure you, sir, that this one,” she glared at the receptionist, who got a look on her face plainly stating it would be an excellent time for a hull breach, “will be severely disciplined.”

  There was a slight yip from behind Eamonn, who knew that the lupusan was having difficulty holding in her laughter. She covered it up by pretending to cough. The Captain indeed found himself amused, but held on to his initial anger. “I should hope so, Ms. Hycinth. But I would be willing to put this unpleasant incident behind us.”

  “Indeed, yes, sir,” Ms. Madras replied, her face a calm mask. “If you’ll step this way please? Your bodyguard may of course accompany us.”

  Eamonn nodded. “Good, because she doesn’t leave the compartment I’m in.”

  The lupusan flicked her ears in surprise. Normally the Captain detested having a security detail. Perhaps the knowledge that three hundred thousand credits was in the bag touching his hip had changed his disposition. Saiphirelle grunted, not really caring why her charge was suddenly much more willing to make her job easier.

  It took little more than an hour for the Captain to set up the accounts he wanted, one for himself and the ship’s operating funds, and one for the departing crews to use. They took a DNA sample and a retinal and voice scan, and he was provided with the account number and routing codes. He selected his personal access codes and they deposited his funds. He thumbed the activation on the control pad and he was done. A few minutes later, after another handshake and apology from Executive Madras, the two were bac
k out into the corridors of the station and on their way back to where they had parked the shuttle.

  Upon arrival back at the hangar, he addressed the crewmembers who were departing. He brought up his datapad and typed in several commands, activating a program he’d worked out earlier. “If you look at your datapads, you will see transaction codes for the back pay that each of you is owed. If you were to open an account anywhere on the station, or simply go to Ganner and Saiorse, you can have the funds transferred or make a withdrawal. The money is available now.”

  There was a murmur among the assembled seventeen, and more than a few checked their datapads to verify what the Captain was saying. Taja, however, was leaning against the side of the shuttle, not looking at anyone. She didn’t check her datapad, in fact she didn’t seem all that interested in anything that was going on. Frederick Vosteros was standing nearby, a look of utter shock on his face. His own payment voucher from Vincent Eamonn had been sizeable, over twenty thousand credits. The Captain blamed himself for the loss of Vosteros’ ship and wanted to show his appreciation for all his help during the occupation of the Grania Estelle. Attached was a letter, from one Captain to another, detailing his thoughts on the matter.

  “I want to thank you all again for sailing with me. And I would like to say once again, that should any of you decide that you want to do so again, all you need to do is show up.” He nodded once and then walked straight to the shuttle and stepped inside, Saiphirelle following along behind him. She nodded to a few of those departing and then entered. The lupusan turned and looked back at the people that had started to leave the hangar, only one or two who looked back, though no one made eye contact with the security officer. They looked at the shuttle, then turned and walked out of the hangar.

  “Let’s go!” the Captain growled from the cockpit of the small ship.

  Saiphirelle flicked her ears, nodded, though he couldn’t have seen, then closed and dogged the hatch. “Sealed up, Captain,” she called and headed for the cockpit.