by Chris Hechtl
“Talk is cheap,” came the tart reply. “So are promises. They usually aren't worth the breath you pay for them.”
“We'll put our credits where our mouths are I assure you. And yes, I know for the moment you have to take it at face value. We'll make certain to build trust quickly with you,” Fred said. “We want this to a be a long-term partnership.”
“We have no way of confirming you are on the up and up. You could lie about what you take in,” the governor replied.
Fred tried hard not to roll his eyes. It took a lot of his training to keep his exasperation out of his voice. He'd only worked this hard when he'd had a tough debate in college he thought. But he'd won that one too. So the natives were restless. So they were wary. But they could and would fix that once they delivered. “We'll make a small deposit as a show of good faith if you would like.”
“Why …?” the governor stopped himself and then cleared his throat. “Don't take this the wrong way, but we're just not used to this nor are we looking a gift horse in the mouth,” the governor said in a slightly different tone of voice.
“We're going to pay you. I'll even pay a deposit as I said,” Fred said. He pulled up a list of items that they had planned on giving to the planet anyway. “We can start with some water purification systems if you'd like. The largest ones we have can service ten thousand people,” he offered.
The governor sputtered. “Ten …?” After a moment, he coughed. “Yes, um, you really are serious about that?”
“Yes!” Fred said, throwing one hand up in the air as exasperation got the better of him.
“It's not just the gifts; it's the strings attached to them you have to understand. There are always strings …,” the governor said just as Shelby came up behind Fred. He turned and looked at her and then shook his head and blew out a breath with his large lips.
“You are mixing metaphors horribly, Governor,” Shelby said with a mournful shake of her head.
“Yeah, I know. Tough,” the governor said. “Wait, who is this?”
“This is Commodore Logan. I came over to see what the holdup is. I've negotiated these deals several times before to everyone's benefit. So, what's the problem? Why standoffish? Say we deliver, why do you think that is a problem?”
“You really don't see it?” the governor asked.
“Not unless you tell me,” Shelby said, crossing her arms.
“Fine. Leading the blind … okay,” Governor Iapyx said as they got off the metaphor topic. He inhaled loudly and then exhaled slowly. “Okay, here goes. You realize you are helping us in the short term but also hurting us long term.”
“Um …?” Shelby scratched at her chin in thought as she puzzled that last statement out.
“Your gifts, your trade. They will come around eventually. They will hear it. They'll want it. They always do. They'll squeeze and squeeze until they get it. And people get hurt in the process. I don't want my people to be those people.”
Shelby blinked, then her eyes narrowed. “By they, I assume you mean the Horathian pirates?”
“Frackin', yes, pirates, privateers, buccaneers, freedom fighters, whatever they call themselves this week. They've got the guns and power; they can call themselves whatever they want. Same for you I suppose,” Governor Iapyx said sourly.
Shelby nodded. “Okay,” she said simply. Fred stared at her. “He's right,” she admitted. “We aren't going to be here forever, nor can we leave a picket. I wish we could; eventually we will but not now.”
“Some of the pirates try to dress it up as taxes or some such,” Governor Iapyx growled bleakly, rolling over what Shelby was saying to Fred. Shelby winced. “Wait, what? What was that last? Something about a picket?”
“They will come around eventually when we aren't here. Correct. They'll take what they want, also correct. We haven't started our anti-piracy patrols, nor can we afford to picket your star system with a warship to protect you at this time. But we will eventually if you join the Federation.”
“Why …?”
“We are the Federation. Specifically, I'm with the Federation Navy. That's our job, to stomp on piracy and end it wherever it is. We're also supposed to work on stopping this plague that the pirates are spreading around the sector.”
“Plague? Did you say plague?”
“Yes. The pirates aren't just raiding; they are now spreading a plague wherever they stop. Mister Muggs can fill you in with the details,” she said with a nod.
“Great, so we're really screwed,” the governor growled.
“Not if we find them first,” Shelby vowed, eyes glittering.
“That … if it could only be true,” the governor said, voice dropping to a soft tone of wistfulness.
“I assure you it is, but I know as you said, talk is cheap. So let us prove ourselves with you with small steps so you can gain faith in us. We may not be able to stop them everywhere, and yes, we know they will get past us for a few more years. But eventually we're going to tear the pirates apart. One by one, we'll end their threat or at least reduce it as much as possible.”
“If that were true …,” the governor said.
“Put it this way,” Shelby said. “We're offering you 20 percent of what we get in mining and fuel. You don't have to tell any visiting pirates about it. You could keep some back. Hide it, bury it, whatever you are comfortable with. We can even negotiate giving you satellites and gear to detect a ship in your space,” she said.
“You can …?”
“We have factory ships, Governor. Three of them begging to be used. Let's put them and their crews to work please,” Shelby said.
“You've given me much to think about. I won't commit now, but you have given me a great deal to consider,” the governor said.
Shelby nodded. “Thank you, sir. I'll turn you back over to Mister Muggs. I see a staff member needs my attention,” she said with a white lie as she smiled to Fred.”
“Ah, yes. I know how that is. Thank you, Commodore, for your time.”
“Thank you, sir. Mister Muggs can transmit to you a list of what we can make for you in trade. If you give us permission to mine, we'll follow through with the good faith deposit as he promised. I'll even load a sample on the next shuttle myself, sir,” she said.
The governor cleared his throat. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“One of the things I'd like to send down to you is a bunch of computers and databases, Governor, including a medical database and some medical supplies, so if the pirates do come around with their plague, your medics will have a fighting chance,” she said.
“That … is definitely something else to consider. Thank you for that.”
“That's free of charge. We're here to stop them as I said,” Shelby said with a nod to Mister Muggs. “Good day, sir, and I hope we do business with you soon.”
“Yes, we'll see.”
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For the medics and quartermasters in the convoy, the stop at Tau-23IX22 and the planet Asterion IX and other places were not as much an opportunity for liberty as it was a signal that it was time for them to get to work. For the medics, they had a limited amount of time to make an impact and were determined to do so, one patient at a time.
Doctor Gusterson was heartily glad they were finally doing something as planned. The work in some of their stops had been light. Knowing planets were suffering with the plague but refused to help had been hard on their morale. But now he knew he and the other doctors on ME Mahoney could make a difference in someone's life.
The second shuttle down had brought with it a small medical clinic. The clinic offered free medical service. Lieutenant Jardin had told the natives they were coming; the medics were gratified to see some wary but interested people there waiting when they had landed. They'd had their first patients before they'd finished setting up shop.
The clinic was open to everyone and was free. Patients were assessed and triaged, and then they would be sent to the dentist, reproductive, vaccine clinic, o
r other basic medical services. More advanced cases were shuttled up to the ship.
He flicked his long ears when he noted Doctor Taylor had come by for a visit. Every medic in the fleet would take turns rotating on Mahoney or in the clinic on the planet. Some would say that what they were doing amounted to a drop in the bucket compared to the population at large … but drops added up to rain and rivers over time.
The Neogreyhound nodded to Doctor Taylor as he checked on one of their latest surgical patients. He checked the chart of the human boy with a massive facial tumor that was distorting the right side of his face. The young man could barely see out of his right eye, and his nose had been flattened and moved to the left side of his face and then down. His mouth was misshaped.
“Thank you for coming, Doctor,” Doctor Gusterson said softly to Doctor Taylor as the human moved into the suiting-up area.
“I wouldn't miss this for anything. I did some basic practice, but I also did some time in a few of the surgery clinics before … well, you know,” Roman said, voice moving into uncomfortable zones.
“Yes, sir. We're doing it assembly line. This is my first run actually,” Gusterson said. “Have you seen the boy? He's up first.” The Neogreyhound pulled up the boy's chart and showed it to Doctor Taylor as the human scrubbed up. He brought up the images from the boy's recent run through the MRI scanner. “The tumor is not cancerous and isn't impacting his eye socket as you can see. It is benign so he's scheduled for second tomorrow,” Doctor Gusterson said.
“Good, excellent. We'll get it out and then the next team will move in and do the reconstructive surgery. By the time the young man leaves here, he'll be almost as good as new,” Roman said with a nod.
“That's the plan, sir,” Gusterson said as a nurse tied an apron on, then a mask for him. The mask was a bit tricky to fit over his long muzzle. He kept his hands up and away from everything. They had UV lights going to help keep things sterile, as well as sterilization fields, but you always took as many precautions as they could. He would be wearing long elbow length gloves for instance to keep his fur from shedding into an open wound.
Roman checked the MRI scan once more then nodded. “Let's do this,” he said with a smile behind his mask as the team went to work.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Shelby was happy when she received the news that they had gotten the mining rights a day later. The services of the hospital ship had been what had sealed the deal; they were all over the local news. She'd heard from Lieutenant Jardin and Ensign Slatterly; both officers had said expressions of consternation and gratitude were chief among the chatter from the natives. It had been one of the biggest turning points with their relationship with the natives. Well, that and the good faith deposit and trade gear Lieutenant Talon had dropped off or sold.
She took turns with the captains of the other factory ships to oversee the mining and refueling operations. The Thomas Savery took one of the Liberty ships to the outer belt to get to work. Prometheus moved in to the inner belt with Gustav Eiffel and half of the freighters. The Liberty class ship 1353 was dispatched to drop off the unmanned gas refinery platform she had in her hold into the atmosphere of the inner most gas giant. Tankers followed her out and waited in orbit for the platform to stock up before they pulled the fuel and chemicals off. Tugs would be dispatched with bladders of chemicals to the factory ships.
1353 returned to orbit of the planet so she could unload some of her cargo and also give her crew some long overdue liberty. The ship would return to the gas giant to retrieve the platform. Shelby had been tempted initially to leave it behind; after all, it wasn't like they couldn't build more of them. In fact, she intended to do that very thing. But she had no intention of leaving it behind for the pirates to exploit.
According to Lieutenant Talon's report, the first shuttles had landed with their promised gear as well as the medical clinic. The Tauren governor had been on hand and had shook the hand of the lieutenant when he'd shown him the medical supplies as well as the computer databases and other good faith deposit items, but the medical clinic had been something of a hit.
Once raw material began to flow into their molecular furnaces, Shelby set up a wish list. She wanted to drop a series of spy satellites in the star system. The stealthed recon platforms would monitor interstellar traffic in the area. She'd intended to bring some along and drop them along their route, but she'd run out of room and hadn't wanted to deploy the platforms that the warships had in their limited inventories. Now she could and did build dedicated long-term platforms. As long as they didn't run into a stray micrometeorite or a nosy traveler, they would keep an eye on the system and give periodic reports to visiting Federation ships about what went through the star system and when.
She was tempted to drop anchor in the star system but kept rethinking the situation. It was indeed tempting; the asteroid belts were rich in material. However, the planet's population were very far down the tech tree and not interested in space travel. Also, although the star system had three jump points, it wasn't quite the crossroads that she'd envisioned.
Fourth, Governor Iapyx might be coming around to the Federation but only grudgingly. He seemed the type of bull that cherished his people's independence.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
When the first deliveries began to come in to the planet, Governor Iapyx seemed to thaw greatly. That allowed an in for Mister Muggs and Ensign Slatterly to use to pry more information about the sector out of him and others on the planet.
Ensign Slatterly had mixed feelings about the information. All of it was second, third, or umpteenth hand, and all of it was verbal. It was interesting to find out a little more about the occupied star systems in the sector, who exported what, and some of the ships in the sector and their timing. She did pick up on an interesting tidbit, a cluster of colony ships that had come together in an empty star system to form an artificial habitat, refueling depot, and trade center a few jumps away near the core of the sector. That seemed like a possible site to set up shop.
Many of the colonies in the sector, those that had survived had been resettled by refugee ships fleeing devastation in the sector and neighboring sectors or even as far away as the core worlds. Some of the ships had run out of fuel or their drives were on their last legs and that was as far as they could safely go. She shook her head as she presented the information to the senior staff.
“There is no telling how many ships broke down in the void and drifted like Dutchman. Some might have Xeno viruses on them,” the ensign said with an atavistic shiver of dread. She wasn't the only one to react that way to that thought.
“We are aware some of the star systems have broken-down ships,” Shelby replied with a nod. “I haven't heard anything about a Xeno virus outbreak however. Some of those ships reportedly have been converted into habitats or space stations for visiting tramp freighters,” she said.
“Those that weren't crashed into a moon or on the planet after being stripped,” Lieutenant Prometheus said darkly.
“I wonder, how many ships are really out there? Some might still be floating in the void. Thousands of them … in hyperspace too?” Portia asked. All eyes turned to the Neopanda. She seemed lost in thought. Shelby cleared her throat when Portia started to mumble math equations.
Shelby snapped her fingers under the Neopanda's nose to get her attention. Portia blinked and then reared her head back. “Um, sorry ma'am,” she said with a sheepish grimace.
“Let's not get bogged down in tangents we have no answers for,” Shelby said. “Thank you ensign,” she said with a nod to the ensign. “I understand you are still cataloging the information. We'll have more time to go over your findings en route to our next stop.”
“Are we about ready to go, ma'am?” Cynthia asked.
“Just about. Everyone has had some time on the ground to spend their money and stretch their legs. Unfortunately, the ships are full up again; we didn't have a lot of room to begin with. We even filled some of the empty cargo con
tainers again with finished goods, and as you know, we dropped off a lot of equipment and gear to the natives,” Shelby said. “I know the doctors would love to have another month or two, but we need to get going.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sadie murmured softly.
“Lieutenant,” Shelby said, turning to Lieutenant Jardin. “Pass the word to the convoy that we'll be pulling up anchor in two days. That will give our people time to wrap up. All ships are to rendezvous at the Lebynthos in five days.”
“Five days? Then the ships across the star system had better get underway now if they are going to make it,” Portia said.
“Pass the word to them first,” Shelby said. “I don't want any excuses. Have the tankers pack up the refinery platform. They can hand it over to 1351 when they meet up at the jump point,” Shelby ordered.
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Cynthia said with a nod.
“Good. Did we get the repair lists whittled down?” Shelby asked.
“Somewhat,” Chief Sulistyo replied. “We're almost 4.0 across the board, ma'am. Some of the Doras still need a bit of time to bring their new equipment up to speed and dialed in properly. But they received the highest priority this go-around,” he said.
“Good,” Shelby replied with a nod.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
“Well, I'm an honest bull; I'll admit when I'm wrong. And I'm honest enough to also admit I'm going to miss you and your people,” Governor Iapyx said.
Fred nodded. Negotiations had been easier once he'd gotten to the ground. “I know. And I know you'll miss the stuff we've been giving you,” he said.
“That most definitely,” the Tauren said with a chuff and explosion of air from his dilating nostrils. “Sure you can't stay a bit longer?” he asked, cocking his massive head.
“I wish. You and I both know negotiations like this take time. Unfortunately, we're full up and the commodore wants to get moving.”