Hold the Star: Samair in Argos: Book 2

by Michael Kotcher

  She took his hand and shook it warmly. “You were one of the ones that busted your ass to try and get rid of the pirates, Frederick. I just wanted to do what I could to try and help out a friend.”

  Before they could say anything else, Tamara’s communicator beeped. She released Vosteros’s hand and pulled it from her pocket. Flipping it open, she said, “Samair here.”

  George Miller’s voice came through clearly. “There’s a convoy of ships approaching the station, Samair,” he said. “Six freighters and two military ships; frigates, they look like.”

  Tamara felt herself go cold. “Have they identified?”

  “Not by name,” George replied. “But they’re all flashing Ulla-tran beacon ID. And one of the cargo ships we know.”

  “Which one?”

  “Emilia Walker.”

  “Triarch, I understand that you and some of your people are a bit hesitant in working with me to get your warship operational,” Eamonn said. “But surely it can’t be because you think you don’t need it. Word through the grapevine is that you pulled a reactor from another ship to transfer it to the warship. You wouldn’t do something like that if you didn’t think it was necessary.”

  The zheen tapped the desk that he was seated at. Vincent Eamonn had come over to the station to attempt another bid to supply parts to repair the Leytonstone. Triarch Kozen’ck had seemed the most open to the idea, so Vincent had asked for another meeting. To his surprise, the zheen businessman was willing to meet with him away from his fellows, though his interest in the project was of course, guarded. They were meeting in the Triarch’s palatial office on the orbital station.

  “Captain, I’m aware that you are very enthusiastic for contracts throughout the system, and I know that this one would be a very large tunnel in your anthill. I’m aware that you’ve put Kay, Jo’zenit and Simpson on retainer and all of the havoc that they are wreaking throughout the station’s businesses.”

  Vincent smiled. “Oh that’s a bit of hyperbole, isn’t it, Triarch? I’ve purchased a pair of tugs, I’m selling ever increasing amounts of helium 3 fuel to the station engineers, none of whom are complaining about that.”

  “You’ve also managed to secure mining rights to the asteroid belt,” the zheen pointed out. “Don’t tell me that your cup isn’t running over. I don’t even know how you’re keeping up with all of that, and managing what my experts tell me is very serious refit work to your ship.”

  “I’m keeping busy,” he said modestly.

  The zheen chittered, folding his hands in front of him, putting his elbows on the mahogany tabletop. “What you’re doing is managing to get an antenna in a great many pies, Captain Eamonn.”

  Vincent raised an eyebrow. “And why is this a bad thing? I’m providing for my own ship and crew as well as providing asked for goods to businesses here on the station. In fact, I have a meeting with the station engineering teams later this afternoon to discuss selling them a good portion of the minerals I plan to be harvesting from the asteroid belt. They were also making noises about wanting to speak with one of my engineers about getting another one of your station’s reactors up and running.”

  Kozen’ck shook his head. “I have to say, Captain, you cast a very wide net.”

  “Well, as the fishermen on Instow say, Triarch, that’s how you get the biggest catch.”

  Kozen’ck’s antennae twitched in slight confusion; while he understood the reference, apparently he’d never heard of Instow before and Vincent wasn’t going to explain further. “But that being the case, I’m unsure as to why you’re so keen to get involved with any projects with the Leytonstone.”

  Vincent sighed, crossing his legs and getting slightly more comfortable. “Well, Triarch, I’ve decided that I want to make Seylonique my base for operations. To that end, there are a number of things that my ship would need that you don’t currently have: a steady fuel supply, support facilities capable of providing maintenance and repair work for my ship and, what I consider to be most critical, security. I chose Seylonique because it was a high tech world, and I was already friends with Administrator Galina Korneyev, so I had a bit of an in that way.”

  Kozen’ck’s mouthparts clacked slightly. The governing body here in Seylonique had decided not to honor the Administrator’s word and refused to pay out even a single credit toward the repairs and parts that he had provided to get the Kara up and running. The Triarch was convinced that Eamonn was a bit put out by that, not that he blamed the man. But the decision had been made and that was that. And it appeared that Eamonn had decided to embrace that most human of expressions, “the best revenge is living well.” And he had to admit, he admired the man’s vision.

  “And you can’t tell me that the things I’m bringing in aren’t useful, Triarch,” Vincent went on. “Various metals and materials as well as refined fuel are a boon to any industrialized system. Why would you want me to stop?”

  The zheen chittered a laugh. “I don’t want to stop you. I want in.”

  Vincent blinked, obviously not expecting this. “I’m sorry?”

  “I want in,” Kozen’ck repeated. “There has been a degree of apathy that has crept into the people in this system over the years. There haven’t been any pirate attacks here in over twelve years, so therefore, there won’t be any attacks. The populace living on the surface are slothful with little work ethic, only doing whatever is necessary, the bare minimum. Some few individuals, such as myself,” he said, preening a bit, “have managed to shed that malaise, but as a rule, the people in this system are arrogant in their complacency. There are ku-resh and circuses but very little growth.” He leaned back in his chair. “I believe your arrival here in system is a very much needed gush of fresh air into the musty room.”

  “I don’t wish to be insensitive, Triarch,” Vincent said slowly, “but I’ve seen the station here. Things are breaking down. Maintenance is shoddy, but more than that, just the attitude of the station workers is poor. Even the young zheen working in the Union hall looks as though there are any number of things he’d rather be doing.”

  “That is what I’m referring to, Captain,” Kozen’ck replied. “I don’t like what I’m seeing in my people and I’m not just referring to the zheen. The people of this system have been decadent and rich for too long. We’ve started a decline.”

  “And you think my humble contributions could bring your people out of it?” he asked.

  The zheen’s antennae crooked. “I think it will be a start. And once your ship is actually repaired, I imagine you will be heading back out to resume your trade routes?”

  “I’ll be looking to set up a route,” he confirmed. “I’ve been looking for cargoes to ship, but with repairs underway, it hasn’t been a huge priority.”

  “How long do you expect for your repairs to take?” Kozen’ck tapped one finger on the tabletop.

  “My engineers estimate about a month to get everything done,” he replied. “It should take only another two weeks to get the hull work done and then another two to get the internals sorted out. But I’m confident we should be ready to go within a month.”

  “And all this industry?” Kozen’ck asked, waving one hand to encompass the system.

  The captain nodded. “I won’t be staying to oversee everything here, but I don’t want it to fall fallow, or,” he added, giving the businessman a severe look, “allow outsiders to grab hold of things.”

  The zheen nodded. “I see. So where does that leave you?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” he said critically. “I’ve got some people I’m going to tap to watch over and run my interests here while I’m out of the system.”

  “But if you’re continuing in your capacity as a ship captain, I imagine you won’t be here in the system all that often.”

  He nodded. “Correct. But that’s my problem. Don’t worry. I’ll find someone who can keep things going properly.” Of course that would mean someone from his crew and there weren’t going to be many that would be
onboard with this idea, that after having just done all that work to get the freighter fixed up that they would now have to leave and stay here in this system while they got to watch all that work fly to another system.

  But that was a problem for later. But it was something he needed to seriously consider, because he’d been working up all these projects and ideas while Grania Estelle was stuck here for the overhaul. And while it was Stella who’d given him the idea and the initial push, but all of this was happening because he’d decided to do it and gotten his engineers on board. And with repairs getting finished up, now suddenly he needed to be thinking about the future of his ship and crew, not simply all the projects he’d started here. But he needed to be careful. A lot of wheels had already started turning and if he was reading the good businessman before him correctly, if he didn’t have a strong representative in place, if Kozen’ck got involved as an investor, a partner or whatever, Vincent Eamonn might return to Seylonique to find out that he’d been cheated out of all his innovations.

  He allowed himself a small smile, which caused the zheen businessman before him to nod slightly. He was about to say something else, but his communicator beeped. Eamonn grimaced. “Excuse me,” he said, activating it. “Captain here.”

  George’s voice came over the comms. “Captain, we’ve got ships incoming. Eight total, looks like two of them are warships of some kind, about a day away from us, present speed.”

  “Understood, George. I’m on my way. Inform the EVA teams to police up their gear and their bots, finish up any jobs that can be done in the next sixteen hours and then get back inside,” the captain told him.

  “On it, Captain,” the operations officer replied and Eamonn ended the call.

  “Sorry about that,” Vincent said, smiling at Kozen’ck as he tucked the communicator into the breast pocket of his jacket. “It seems we have some company coming in.”

  “So it would seem,” Kozen’ck replied. He twitched his antennae. “Does that mean you are departing for your ship?”

  “Not just yet,” he said. “There isn’t really a lot I can do from there at this point anyway, what with the damage that still needs to be fixed. But she not capable of performing any evasive maneuvers, not with her hull damage. Hell, Grania Estelle can’t even run away at this point. It would require the pilot to accelerate very slowly for her to be able to move at all. And even if I wanted to try and flee, those ships could run her down with ease.” He waved a hand as if it was of no moment.

  But Kozen’ck wasn’t fooled. He eyed the captain for a long moment, not speaking before he finally nodded. “And you are not concerned by this?”

  Eamonn shrugged. “It’s not so much that I’m concerned,” he explained, “It’s that there’s nothing I can do about it. So for now, we just sit and wait.”

  “But ships hardly ever come here,” Kozen’ck said, nodding slightly. “And never in such numbers.”

  “Eight ships is a lot?” he asked. Then he tipped his head to the side in acknowledgement. “Now having said that, I realize how stupid that is. Eight ships going anywhere at once is a lot. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that many going from one system to another in a convoy like that.”

  Kozen’ck nodded. “Yes. But the presence of those two warships concerns me.”

  Vincent eyed him with a sly look. “Oh, so suddenly the freighter captain’s plans for that battlecruiser start to sound reasonable, don’t they?”

  The zheen spread his hands. “It has been many years since foreign warships came to this system. They have made no moves against us, taken no hostile stance, and yet I find I am troubled.” He paused again, thinking. “I am troubled,” he repeated.

  Eamonn took his communicator back out of his pocket. While the businessman did his own mental calculations, he called back to the ship. “George, it’s the Captain.”

  “Go ahead, Cap,” the man replied immediately.

  “Change of plans. I’m going to be staying on the station for a while longer, but I’ll be back aboard by the time the work crews close up.”

  “Understood, Captain. Is there anyone you need me to send over? I could have the shuttle back to the station in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll call for it when I’m ready, George,” Vincent assured him. “I’ve still got some people to talk to on the station, but don’t worry; I’ll be on the ship in plenty of time.”

  There was a pause. “Understood, Captain,” George finally said. “Is Saiphirelle still with you?”

  “I sent her off,” the captain said. “But she’s on the station somewhere. What vector are the ships coming in on?”

  “Understood,” he said. “They’re coming in on a vector from Ulla-tran.”

  “I see. Thank you. Talk to you soon, George.” And he cut the circuit. “So, Triarch, back to what we were talking about.”

  “Which was?” Kozen’ck asked, his antennae flicking. “We’ve talked about several topics.”

  “Leytonstone,” Vincent replied.

  The zheen let out a hiss. “You’re still on that.”

  He nodded. “I’m still on that. You’ve told me before that few ships ever come to Seylonique anymore. Well, that convoy puts an end to this thought.” He gestured over his head, referring to the ships somewhere out in the star system. “And Ulla-tran is only just one system over. And if they’re sending warships to escort their convoys, it means that they’re going to know that this system hasn’t got much in the way of mobile military units.”

  Kozen’ck gave a hiss. “So because we have a neighbor that is displaying some military toys, we must therefore show that our toy box is bigger?”

  Vincent smiled crookedly. “It isn’t about size, it’s about security. In addition to Ulla-tran, there are pirates out there who prey on merchant shipping. I know this for a fact. Three times in seven months my ship was attacked by the thugs. And if industry in this system starts to pick up, and I hope to be a big part of that, then it means we might start attracting the attention of some… shall we say, unsavory sorts?”

  Kozen’ck stared at him for a long moment. “I can’t say I disagree on that.” He hissed a sigh again. “I will speak with the others. I cannot guarantee anything, you understand.”

  He nodded. “I do understand. And I appreciate your time.” He rose from his chair and the zheen businessman did the same. Vincent stretched out his hand and Kozen’ck shook it.

  “What the fuck do you mean it’s the Emilia Walker?” Frederick Vosteros sputtered.

  Tamara shrugged. “You heard the exact message I did, Frederick,” she told him. “I don’t have any more information about it than you do.”

  “That is my ship!” He was breathing heavily, leaning an arm on the bulkhead. “Those bastards took it and my crew and now they have the sheer gall to just fly it in here like nothing happened! Those bastards!” He closed his eyes in anger and hit the bulkhead with his palm.

  Taja went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder and he covered it with one hand while pounding his other fist against the metal of the bulkhead. Finally, after a few moments, he calmed and nodded. “I don’t suppose there’s actually anything I can do about that now, is there?” He looked first to Taja and then to Tamara.

  Taja pursed her lips, considering, but Tamara shook her head. “I suppose there might be a legal claim you could make, but that would presuppose you actually have documentation showing that the Emilia Walker is registered to you.”

  He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Anything we had was aboard the ship when the fuckers shot it up. The computers were in a bad way when they boarded. Aside from that, I doubt there’s anything on board that would be left after they fixed her up.”

  “I’m sorry, Frederick,” Taja said, giving his arm a squeeze and he nodded.

  But then he shook his head. “Damn them,” he said. Then he brightened somewhat. “But I have a new ship now.” He patted the bulkhead, putting on a strong face for the two women in the room. Tamara wasn’t sure w
ho he was trying to convince, them or himself. She didn’t think any of them were fooled, but they all smiled reassuringly.

  “Have you named the ship yet?” Tamara asked.

  Taja looked to him for an answer. But Frederick just shook his head. “No, not yet. Nothing really strikes my fancy yet. But it’ll come.” And without another word, he turned, picked up the sponge from the bucket and resumed his scrubbing. When the other two didn’t move, he looked to them. “What? Doesn’t matter how pissed off they made me. This ship still needs some attention.”

  They both nodded. “Well, Captain, I’m going to start back for the hangar. You’re all set.”

  He looked over at her. “Thank you again, Tamara. Really.”

  “Keep in touch, Captain Vosteros. I suspect things might look a bit different the next time you’re in this system.” She gave him a wink and then strode from the compartment.

  “Coming into visual range of the station now, Marklan,” the sensor officer reported.

  Peredes Turco nodded. “Very well. Open a channel to the station.” It had been what felt like a long run into the station, he reflected. But, finally, within the next couple of hours they’d be here and he could get these whining freighter captains off his back for a day or two. Why he’d ever allowed himself to be talked into this trip, he’d never know. At least things had been otherwise quiet up until now.

  “Marklan, there’s a ship holding station about a hundred or so klicks from the station.”

  “What? The battlecruiser?”

  “No, sir, that’s currently still docked. This is a cargo ship,” the sensor officer said. “Actually, it’s the same ship that caused all that ruckus back home a couple of months ago. That bulk freighter.”

  “Really?” he said softly, tapping a finger to his lips. That was something to consider. That ship had let loose several computer viruses that had taken down Ulla-tran’s fueling station, as well as several of her pinnaces that the system was using for defense. Of course, this was all cover so that their people could kill a few people and then blast out of the system. But that part of Goris Hana’s explanation never made sense to Peredes. The freighter crew that had been collecting and selling fuel to the station suddenly and for no apparent reason, set off a malware bomb in the station, killed a few of the station’s crew and then leave? He’d known a few freighter crews in his time, as well as those on this trip to Seylonique. And while they talked tough and were more than willing to do what needed to be done in a pinch, they weren’t murders. They weren’t usually stupid either. They were people, not robot drones that would just go crazy. If the freighter jocks had done all that, if they had killed those workers on the station, there had be a damned good reason. Which meant that Goris Hana was most likely hiding something.