Fragments sf-6

by Randolph Lalonde

  "So, it's all new," Laura concluded.

  "Too bad, someone with a bit of experience would be useful here, but I suppose that’ll be us before long. You two will probably find yourselves going on a lot of trips after we’ve returned." Ayan said with a glance back at the Triton soldiers. She didn’t have to check Victor’s information, she’d spent tense time with him at Ossimi Ring Station, but she checked the other. Her name was Jenny Machad, a soldier who had served with Victor on Pandem, and she qualified on tactics and weapons on her first day aboard Triton. This one doesn’t like to waste time. I think I like her already.

  They were led to a large elevator and Ayan made sure to stand right beside the nervous officer who they had been assigned to. "How's life here?" She asked him.

  He stared at her for a moment, startled before replying; "Fine, it's fine. Pretty safe since the Carthans got here."

  "It wasn't safe before?"

  "No, Ma'am." He answered in a rush. Instead of elaborating he stared at the pitted metal doors of the large lift.

  "Do you get a lot of visitors in Greydock?"

  The Customs Officer rushed out the doors as soon as they started to open. "Not as many as before the Carthans took over, I guess," he called over his shoulder.

  "This guy's hilarious," Victor uttered under his breath as they caught up.

  "Here we are," their guide announced as they came around a corner and faced a broad corridor with foot paths worn into the ancient metal floor. There were dozens of concave indents in the walls spaced out at regular intervals. In front were dips in the floor where speakers were supposed to stand.

  There were over a hundred people gathered around high tables, reviewing information on thin tablets, personal holodisplays, arm units and every other type of personal information device they could imagine. Several looked like they were just staring out into space. At a glance Ayan counted five races, three she knew and two she'd never seen before. One was in an outfit that allowed for six legs and four arms. As far as she could tell there was no head, everything just ended at shoulders that looked like a collection of fleshy bulbs. One of them was stopping to stand in front of one of the circular dips in the floor when she noticed him, or her, she couldn't discern which and she was relieved when an image emerged from the wall. That was the best way to describe it, an emergence. The old stone of the wall became the texture, colour and shape of a woman. Whatever the material was, it changed as smoothly as any holographic image, only it was some kind of moving three dimensional portrait.

  “Expansion Age technology,” said Jenny Machad in awe. “I never thought it was a big deal until now, but I think I’m getting it.”

  “They invented things we haven’t begun to understand before the collapse,” Laura added.

  “What, this? I’m pretty sure one of you could build something that does the same thing,” Victor said quietly.

  “Certainly, but it would probably require a large power source and we’d have to change the medium every month. I bet that display system barely uses any power at all. I’m sure this city has more impressive things in store anyway.” Ayan said, looking around the room. “Who knows what’s been stripped from here since this city’s high days.”

  "You present your query or whatever you like while standing on a designated point and a representative will assist you. If your matter is sensitive, they may instruct you to enter the internal office," their guide interrupted, pointing to one of the petitioners as the indent in the wall opened and he stepped inside. "If you need further instructions, well, ask a representative." The nervous young man finished reciting awkwardly. He made long, hurried strides towards the hall behind him and was gone in a rush.

  "It's sort of like the licensing office back home," Laura said as she looked around the room. "A lot like it, actually."

  "Only without so much invisible security," Ayan commented.

  "You're right. An all out riot could break out here and everyone behind those walls can just sit back and watch. Whoever built this place must have been either paranoid or used to trouble," Victor commented.

  "Well, no time like the present." Ayan marched to the nearest empty dip in the floor and stopped to stand in front of one of the shallow, indented alcoves. The wall had evidence of some food stuff or other substance splattered against it, as though someone who had been there was displeased with the outcome of their bartering or petitioning.

  "Hello, Commander Ayan Rice. I have your file in front of me," said a woman whose image rose from the stone wall’s surface as though she was surfacing from a calm pool. She was in a uniform similar to that of the Customs Officer, only she had no studs on her cuffs. "I understand you're representing some refugees and other ship Captains who have landed in the Dower Wastes."

  "That's right,"

  "Before we get started, I'd like to remind you that you and your people have been denied refugee status, so you are not eligible for any aid or assistance at this time."

  "Why were we denied refugee status? I was never told."

  "Oh, that's unusual. It says here that it was due to how heavily armed your group is, and because you were found in possession of a ship stolen in Carthan territory. Would you like to contest the decision?"

  "No, we're not here for handouts, and those claims are true. What I'd like to do is acquire landing permits for a proper port.”

  “For which ship?”

  “All of them please.”

  “Ah, and what is your business in the Rega Gain System?”

  “I’d like to privateer for the Carthans. I'd also like to trade for food and supplies."

  "Let's start with the matter I can assist you with. Normally we would probe your background, especially since you don’t even have a surname attached to your Freeground identification, but considering you have arrived with so many ships and have no criminal record in this or adjacent sectors, I’m going to issue you Carthan identification.”

  “What about landing permits and-“

  “All in good time. How will you be paying?”

  “I have certified platinum bullion.”

  “Good. All right then, I’m assuming your companions require identification as well; Victor Davis, Jenny Machad and Laura Everin.”

  “Why would I need Carthan government identification when you seem to know who we are on sight?”

  “So you can have access to our services, apply for a visa or special clearance.”

  “What is this going to cost me?”

  “Twenty three credits per crewperson.”

  “All right, we’ll go ahead with that.”

  “Good, now that we have that sorted, I can grant you a Privateer’s letter of Marque right now for all your vessels since you've shown evidence of ownership. The Carthan government is obligated to notify you that, while we can offer you a provisional privateering licence for the Triton you will have to prove right of ownership or command once it arrives. If you have no evidence that you’re the rightful commander of the ship when it arrives, you will have to stake a claim and answer to challenges."

  “What kind of evidence do you need?”

  “If the vessel answers to your command codes and the main computer verifies that you are the senior commander, then the required terms will be satisfied.”

  “But until then you’re telling me that the Triton will be licensed as a privateering vessel under my name.”

  “Yes.”

  "Thank you very much. All right, who would I be permitted to seize property from?" Ayan’s spirit rose, and she did her best to keep her composure.

  "The Carthan Government is licensing you to fire on and seize property from any Regent Galactic or Order of Eden vessel or other asset with a military purpose. You are also permitted to capture any ships owned by aforementioned parties and any vessels carrying objects intended for their use. You may sell all but sentient beings and weaponry to any Carthan ally or neutral party, but must remit any weapons and prisoners to Carthan officials. You will be paid thirty
five percent of their market value."

  "Thirty five percent?" Ayan asked, knowing that weaponry and other military hardware was the most lucrative product of many captures. "That must be conditional, or at least negotiable."

  "No. You are running a raider fleet of ships you didn't even take the time to register with the Carthan government before requesting a privateering licence. We recognize that you're interested in pursuing your interests in our space legally, otherwise you wouldn't be here, but I can't offer you better rates or conditions until you acquire a visa with provisions befitting a Captain in command of a combat ready fleet."

  "Then I'd like to apply for a visa."

  "As a Captain I can expedite the process. You will have to provide contact information for three past commanding officers and submit to two weeks of constant oversight using one of our recording devices as well as a Carthan Officer aboard your command ship. At the end of that two week period we will render our decision and determine what sort of visa we will issue to you. You can begin the application process by paying a fee of fifty thousand credits."

  "I'll have to consult my former commanding officers, make sure their contact information is up to date and such. Is there any other way to negotiate the percentage paid for arms?"

  "Do you operate out of any other port? If someone else is offering you a more favourable rate then I may be able to make a case to my supervisor."

  Ayan thought a moment. There had to be something she could say, but all she could do was answer with another question; “What if I’m supplying my own fleet and a military carrier?”

  “In that case, you’re free to use any weapons you acquire, but they must be registered individually. If they are reduced to components, then you may use them however you like if you have records of their disassembly. You may be able to negotiate for less strict terms once the Triton arrives, or if you can tell me where it is now and what its primary role might be.”

  "I’m afraid I can’t provide you with that information at the moment," Ayan said. She couldn’t leave it at that, however. “I’m wondering. If one of your privateering partners’ ships is in distress outside of your territory, would you lend assistance?”

  “How far outside of our territory?”

  Ayan hesitated a moment. What do I have to lose? At worst they’ll think I’m incapable of commanding a carrier. She brought up the most recent tactical information from the Triton and displayed it as a holographic map. “The Triton is in a planetary nebula less than a day away by high compression wormhole. This is the most recent data we have on her.”

  “Hold while I consult my superior,” the representative said, wide eyed. Her image disappeared into the wall.

  Ayan looked back to see Laura just over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “I had to try. I don’t think everyone would agree with me asking for help, but I couldn’t stand here without saying something.”

  “Here’s hoping they’ll do something.”

  The representative’s image re-emerged from the wall with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing the Carthan Fleet can do for you. As you probably understand, I can’t offer any more details than that for security reasons.”

  Ayan’s heart sank. She wasn’t aware of how deeply she hoped the Carthans could help. Her request was more than a whim, she knew that if the Carthans had superior forces in the area, they would leap at the opportunity, or at least, they should have. If they claimed that they were in no position to assist them, then there was nothing she would say that would change their minds.

  “Thank you for taking the request seriously. Please keep abreast of the situation, if there’s anything you can do to help, you’d have the gratitude of my crew and I.”

  "Considering your situation, there’s nothing I can do to improve the terms of the privateering arrangement. If it’s any comfort, some Captains are already becoming quite wealthy under those same conditions. After losing so much, I can see how you might think wealth is impossible, but you must believe me when I tell you there are some wealthy privateers that have made due with much less than you have."

  "Oh, I can believe it," Victor muttered under his breath.

  Ayan cleared her head and her throat before going on. "Moving on; by the terms you’ve set out here, I can sell everything else anywhere I like?"

  "That's right. In fact, any member of your crew with Carthan identification can sell whatever you capture to anyone other than an enemy of the Carthan government, it doesn't have to be you," the representative announced as though it was of some great benefit.

  Ayan didn't agree, the beaurocrat''s beaming announcement seemed obvious. "Are the Carthans picking a fight with anyone else?"

  "There is a treaty between the Carthans and United Core World Confederation, but it will expire in twelve days. All other governments, companies and groups that you are legally allowed to pursue, capture or destroy are listed. You are also permitted to detain the enemy as outlined in the terms until you can hand them over to Carthan authorities for a reward. Rewards are dispensed based on the table included in the data package you’ll receive."

  "All right, sign me up."

  “The services you have requested, including authorization slips for all your vessels come to a total of nine thousand two hundred thirty one credits, or three hundred seven point seven in GC.”

  Ayan pondered for a moment, she had no idea what the exchange rate was or what the beaurocrats meant by ‘GC’. “All I have is stamped platinum bullion.”

  “That’s recognized Galactic Currency. Please put it in the drawer.”

  A drawer popped out of the wall as she carefully opened the courier bag. The pockets inside held, at a glance, twenty of the largest squares that glittered yellow, a package of fifty second largest square tokens that had a blue glint and a variety of others in a smaller bag. She started by pulling a yellow one out.

  Jenny gasped and whispered; “That’s a five hundred.”

  Ayan glanced at the token and felt like a dunce as she read the top of the square piece, where it was marked with a large 500G engraving. “One moment,” she pleaded sheepishly.

  “I’ve never even seen one of those before,” Jenny chuckled to herself quietly as she looked around as though making sure no one else had seen.

  Without pulling them from the bag, Ayan inspected the rest of the tokens and realized that the blue bars were two hundred fifty grams, the hundred gram tokens were bright purple, and the lesser denominations were green for fifty, red for twenty-five and silver for five. The fine, industrial diamonds gave them their colour, and each was obviously made to be carried like a coin, but considering they were pure platinum, she couldn’t imagine herself carrying much. She counted out the correct amount and watched the tray disappear. She received a few small one gram silver coins with holes in the centre that made them look like washers. They had a slight glint to them, and similar markings.

  "Do you have a personal data device of some kind?"

  Ayan held up her wrist so the official could see her command and control unit. It announced that it had received a new file a moment later and when Ayan opened it she found her new privateering licence. A drawer came out from the wall and Ayan picked up the contents. The stack of cards had their identification on the top, Carthan registration for every ship, and a scrolling copy of the privateering licence. Each data card allowed her to scroll through all the information contained within. “Those are your secure slips. They can only be written once, and will make a record of how often they’re copied. Keep your originals. Thank you for appearing at the Office of the Governor. Good luck.”

  Ayan smiled back as she handed out the three identification cards at the top of the stack. "Thank you, now that that's-"

  The official's image began to retreat back into the wall.

  "Oi!" Ayan exclaimed, irritated.

  The image reappeared. "Is there something else?"

  "Yes. I need landing permits so my ships can make port in a
proper facility.”

  “You have all the clearance you need in your hand. Each of those registry slips is also a permit, as well as your official Carthan identification. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Can I rent or lease hangar space for my ships here?”

  “I’m sorry, the Greydock Port Authority won’t be able to help you with that because you don’t have a visa.”

  “Right. Do you know where I can buy supplies and food?"

  "I'm afraid you can't buy them on Greydock without a war time purchaser's permit."

  "How do I get one?"

  "I can start the process for you, but you won’t be able to use the purchasers permit without a visa."

  Ayan tried not to look frustrated, but the tightness in her voice betrayed her. "Where else can I buy food?"

  "Port Rush is the nearest free port, a lot of pira-, I mean privateers operate from there. If you can get off world you can find better places, but my brother-in-law has often said things are only getting worse in the nearby systems, but I wouldn’t believe everything he says, he was telling me just the other day that there are cannibals on Aquil, and issyrians who walk around in their native form on Krouper," the officer cringed.

  "Where's the nearest transport leaving for Port Rush?"

  The official fixed her with a look of confusion and irritation. "How am I supposed to know?"

  Ayan exhaled slowly and nodded. "Thank you for your help," she said, keeping her composure as best as she could.

  "You’re welcome. Enjoy your stay in Greydock and good luck." The image of the official disappeared again and Ayan stepped out of the petitioner's divot.

  "If they ever start issuing hunting licences for beaurocrats, count me in," Victor muttered.

  Ayan nodded. "They have a talent for testing patience. At least we finally have a licence to go after Order and Regent ships and permission to move our ships. I think it was too easy though. It wouldn’t have been difficult for me to steal a ship from a small space station somewhere and just declare it my own once I got here."

  “I know I don’t have experience at your level of leadership, Commander, but I think it just shows how desperate they are. Maybe they just can’t afford to turn anyone down, even a potential ship thief,” Jenny offered.