“Suriaya, it’s been too long.” She stepped up and surveyed the bay. There was the one ship being worked on just before them, but it appeared that there were two others in various states of repair, with workers crawling all over them as well. Tamara grinned. “Look at this place! You’ve certainly been busy.”
“Bah, we’re actually behind. I’ve been having problems machining up the right parts,” the big woman replied, but Tamara noticed a hint of pride beneath her irascible mask. “Its fiddly bits, mostly, electronics and small components in the navigation systems. Holding up the whole production line.”
Tamara’s smile turned conspiratorial. “I might be able to help out with that, if you’re interested.” She explained her offer with the A2.
The round woman through about the offer for all of five seconds, though to be fair, there was no actual thinking involved, it was more that the other woman was in shock over the idea. “So you’re going to sell me one of these A2 replicators?” the woman asked. “Of course I’m in!”
“Lease, but yes. It should help you with those fiddly bits you mentioned, help you get your shuttles out to your customers.” Tamara nodded in satisfaction. “Actually, having other ships in local space can only help things. I’ll be very happy once that starts happening.”
But Suriaya wasn’t listening. “Where is this device? I’ll need to see it.”
She nodded. “Of course. Let’s go. I have it on my ship.” She led Suriaya out to the landing pad and over to her cargo ship.
“Where’d you get this baby?” she asked, impressed, eyeing the ship. “I know they didn’t have anything like this at the orbital.”
“Nope,” Tamara agreed, keying open the hatch. “I built her. A Testudo class cargo ship. Sublight only, but I didn’t want something that needed a big crew to operate.”
Suriaya was eyeing the ship speculatively. “I don’t suppose I could get one of those?”
Tamara smiled. “I think we can do business.”
Several hours later, Tamara took off, her cargo hold empty of all the goods she’d brought over, having done what she’d intended and sold off the A2s to several small businesses, gotten a few contracts for more, and orders for two Testudo cargo ships. Her credit accounts were considerably heavier and her mind was already moving on to the next several projects. She wasn’t going to be able to make runs like this all the time. She was far too busy handing FP’s operations to go swanning off on individual cargo runs like this.
She really needed to get a local office set up, either on the planet or on the orbital for FP, Inc. It would make local trade so much simpler, instead of having to come all the way out here from the Kutok mine to make transactions. Just set up the office, make the transactions, and then ship the goods to and from the mine. She had avoided doing so up until now because she was concerned at how the admin council was going to react. And with the whole misadventure with the soldiers on her mining station and the Leytonstone shooting up local space, she was still a bit undecided about how to handle the whole idea. She certainly didn’t want to leave important files or data where security troopers or paid thugs could get their hands on it.
Tamara sighed, leaning back in the pilot’s couch. The autopilot was engaged for the long flight back to the Kutok mine, so barring any mishaps, she would just need to keep an eye on things. Yet another issue she was going to have to sort out. Not to mention start putting pressure again on the local government. Triarch Kozen’ck had said he’d get to the bottom of the whole “incident” as it was being called, but she hadn’t heard from him in quite a while.
“Actually,” she said, activating the ship’s comms, “I think we need to have a little chat with the good Triarch.” Pressing a few commands she sent out a call to the zheen politician.
It took an annoyingly long time for him to pick up. She was concerned that the call was going to be shunted off to an answering service, but he actually picked up, his image appearing on the cockpit’s small display. “Triarch Kozen’ck, this is Tamara Samair.”
“Ms. Samair,” he replied, a slight buzz in his voice. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
She checked the chrono. “Yes, it’s a little past 2300 hours, station time. Don’t tell me I woke you? I didn’t think station admin’s ever slept.”
He gave a short, louder buzz, his equivalent of a chuckle. “We do, in fact, but no, you didn’t wake me. What can I do for you this evening?”
“Well, I’m just calling because I’m interested in hearing about any progress in the investigation of the attack on my company. What can you tell me?”
“Well, the investigation is still ongoing,” he said, clearly hedging.
“Oh, don’t give me that,” she said. “You’ve had weeks to interview people, to look over the data my people provided.”
“Yes, and as I said, I’m still investigating. I’ve got people going over everything, and talking to the crews of both ships, the survivors of the Kara’s boarding parties. But nobody’s talking.”
Tamara growled in frustration. “I will not let you sweep this under the rug, Triarch.”
“Are you threatening me, Ms. Samair?” Kozen’ck demanded.
“No, Triarch, I’m not,” she said. “Those people, along with whoever put them up to attacking my company, killed people. They killed security officers, crewmembers of the Cavalier, and even civilian workers on the Kutok mine. And I won’t stand for a half-assed investigation that gets quietly forgotten and buried.”
“What do you want me to do, Ms. Samair?” he asked, sounding very tired. “I’m doing the best I can, but if no one is talking, then there is only so much I can do.”
“If I have to go to the newsies and start running my mouth about everything, naming every name I can think of, point fingers at members of the admin council, dredge up any dirty laundry I can find, believe me, Triarch, I will.” Tamara’s face was rock hard. “Don’t think of that as a threat. Think of it as a premonition of things to come.” And she cut the connection.
She sat there, in the pilot’s couch, fuming for a long moment. She really shouldn’t have threatened him, she knew that. But he’d made her so angry with his political non-answers. That even presupposed that the zheen was even looking for whoever had perpetrated the attack. He probably wasn’t. More than likely he wasn’t involved in the attack, but he’d probably decided that it was in the best interest of keeping the peace to hush the whole thing up. That or very powerful parties had gotten to him, and forced him to shut the “investigation” down. Either explanation was plausible.
But her comment about getting with the newsies had been made in complete seriousness. And she closed her eyes, pulling up her HUD. She began drafting a notice to be delivered to the various news services about the whole attack, hopefully it would be something that might have the ravenous parasites clambering all over themselves to get the scoop on.
If nothing else, it would keep her entertained for a few hours on the journey. She had checked, the next two Testudos had rolled off the line and were already on the move, heading to the orbital. They’d be arriving right around the time Tamara reached Kutok mine. She’d ordered that they be outfitted to carry passengers, which would be about twenty per ship. This would allow Corajen to bring a goodly number of new security officers to the gas mine, reducing the lupusan’s stress levels a bit. Tamara wished she could have brought a few back on her ship this time, but Corajen had decided that an extra week of training would help her better evaluate her new troop of deputies. She would be riding in with that group, would get them up to speed and then would work on getting another group in.
This is going to be a long week, she though to herself as her ship continued to accelerate toward the mine. She wished that the two stations were much closer to each other, to cut down on transit time, but by commercial vessel, it was a seventy hour one-way trip. A shuttle service, using a dedicated passenger liner, would definitely need to be set up. And I think that might need to be the first thi
ng we build once the repair slip is up.
~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Can you believe the bullshit I’m hearing about FP and their practices? They’re poaching people left and right.” There was a meeting of some of the admin council, a bit less formal than the usual meetings.
“What are you bellyaching about now, Kly?” Chakrabarti asked, his tone slightly acidic. “I’ve just spoken with Mister Jollin down in the engineering spaces. He says he’s finally gotten a full watch rotation going, he says training is going better than before, hell, he’s even said he’s got full sets of replacement parts and spares.”
The rotund politico glared at his much more slender counterpart. “Well, maybe not from there, but I’ve done a poll of the various sectors around the station. We’re talking over two thousand people have been recruited by that bitch.”
Chakrabarti sighed. “Why do you hate them so much? Honestly, having them around has only boosted the economy and made things better. We’d fallen into such a funk over the last few years. I wouldn’t have been surprised if within another few years the reactors finally gave up the ghost and flamed out. This whole orbital would have become nothing more than a floating chunk of dead metal over the planet, just waiting to deorbit and crash.”
“Stop being dramatic,” Kly spat. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yes, it was,” Kozen’ck put in. “I’ve spoken with Mister Jollin as well. He was genuinely worried about our status. There weren’t enough people, parts or skills.”
Kly waved a hand, as if shooing away a pest. “We were thriving just fine.”
But the zheen waved his antennae. “No, Kly, we were getting by. Barely. Deluding ourselves into thinking we were well off. Now? We’re finally pulling out of it. There’s actually a vibe on the orbital. People are actually starting to move with purpose.”
“Just because some group of outsiders came into our system with some fuel and replacement parts?” Kly clearly wasn’t impressed with that idea.
“No, Kly,” Chakrabarti replied. “Well, yes, in part because of that. But the people in FP hadn’t fallen into the same malaise that we all had.” He waved his hands as if trying to disperse smoke. “But that’s neither here nor there. The fact is that since they started business, they’ve only continued to expand. I also hear that they’re in the process of building a mining station out by the belt.”
“What?” Kly said, looking up. “They’re building another damned station?” He threw his hands up in the air and began to pace in frustration.
Kozen’ck buzzed in amusement. “They are certainly industrious.”
“They’re infuriating!” Kly went on.
“Knock it off, Kly,” Chakrabarti told him, grimacing. “You’re starting to sound like that pouty child again. What, specifically is your problem with them?”
“They came in here and just kicked over our anthill. They have industrial replicators that they won’t share…”
“That isn’t true,” Kozen’ck interrupted.
Kly was brought up short. “What?”
“It isn’t true,” the zheen repeated. “They’ve been leasing industrial replicators to the orbital as well as to a few small businesses down on the planet.”
“What do you mean they’ve leased industrial replicators?” the portly man sputtered. “When did this happen?”
“Within the last few days,” Kozen’ck said, his antennae waggling. “Chief Jollin has been over the moon about the whole deal. Of course, now instead of sending pestering emails to my staff concerning parts and fuel, now he’s telling us we need to start bringing in raw materials and fuel.”
“They actually are opening up their bag of tricks,” Kly said. “Well, we need to move to nationalize all of those devices, immediately!”
“Do you think that FP will actually allow the government to step in and take their devices?” Chakrabarti asked, sounding less than enthusiastic about the idea.
“I don’t care what those bastards want,” Kly spat. “Those devices are critical to our economy and our defense! We need to collect them up and get them all up to the orbital so that they can be used to get the Leytonstone operational again. Fully operational this time.”
“Well, I’ll drink to that,” Chakrabarti agreed. Kly turned to look at him. “What? I’d like to get the battlecruiser up to fully operational status just as much as anyone. If these devices can accomplish that, I’m all for it.”
Kly rubbed his hands together. “So then we need to move to collect up these devices.”
“We need to move carefully,” the other man cautioned. “We can’t just sent police down to confiscate them. The citizens who leased them from FP paid good money for them and did so legally. They will be extremely upset at us if we just swoop in and take them.”
“Well, perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement,” Kly said, looking off into the corner of the room. “Pay them some pittance, reimburse them for what they paid to FP, then take the devices off their hands. And if they don’t want to take the offer, we confiscate it.”
“That’s going to piss off a lot of citizens,” Kozen’ck noted. “And so far, from what my sources have found out, there are only eleven devices in total, two of which are already being used by Chief Jollin.”
“That’s it? Only eleven?” But then Kly shook his head. “Bah, it doesn’t matter. Even with that many devices, we can start churning out replacement parts.”
“But that doesn’t solve the problem of actually repairing the battlecruiser,” Chakrabarti said. “As you noted before, a goodly number of people have signed up with FP. And unfortunately, they’re hiring from the people that are already showing an interest or aptitude for engineering or construction tasks. Which are exactly the people we need to fix the ship and eventually crew it.”
“Get Gants to start his own recruiting drive,” Kly said, as though the answer was obvious.
“We are,” the zheen replied. “But FP offers very good wages and benefits packages, as well as top notch training. I’ve looked through their training manuals and it’s very tough. Lots of mathematics and spatial awareness. Lots of hands on training, as well. The local space defense forces aren’t offering anywhere near that level of pay, or training.”
“How much is being offered?” Kly asked, finding himself actually curious.
Kozen’ck named a figure. “For an optical welding technician, one of the more important construction jobs, who will also be expected to operate in space as well as on their gas mine or ships, they’re paid something like twenty credits per hour. But with the amount of projects they’re working on, apparently overtime and even double time is being offered with increasing frequency. Those technicians are overworked, but they are certainly not underpaid.”
Kly nodded, feeling his anger starting to rise again. A similarly qualified optical welder on the orbital was lucky if he could get twelve or thirteen credits per hour and the overtime opportunities had until very recently been small. But of course, with all the money that FP was raking in by selling fuel and raw materials to the orbital and other businesses, not to mention other parts and equipment, they could afford to pay these very high wages.
“I’ll have to look at the budget,” Chakrabarti said thoughtfully. “Seems we’re going to have to be competitive if we’re going to keep FP from poaching our entire workforce. Though I suppose we could hire some of their workers…”
“No!”
“Absolutely not!”
Both Kly and Kozen’ck looked at one another, astonished that they’d agreed on this. “We can’t give FP unrestricted access to the Leytonstone,” Kozen’ck said, speaking first. “And that is exactly what we would need to do in order for them to bring the ship up to full operational capacity.”
“No, we’re absolutely not doing that,” Kly agreed. “Who knows what they would do to the ship if we allowed it?”
All three were nodding about that. “But I thought you were one of their biggest supporters, Triarch?”
Chakrabarti asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
The zheen nodded. “I am. I am very impressed at their work ethic and the results that they have provided. And now with the completion of their second defense ship and the restoration of their fighter squadrons, I think they’re in an excellent position to put themselves on top and stay there. But that doesn’t mean I want them to get aboard the Leytonstone. While they might be in command of military assets, they aren’t in command of something as grand as a battlecruiser. We need to maintain a certain level of control.”
Kly eyed the zheen cautiously. “That doesn’t seem to make sense,” he said. “One minute you’re praising their accomplishments and the next you’re saying you don’t want them to fix our main defense ship?”
Kozen’ck gave a blat of a sigh. “First Principles have grown in power since their arrival. They have rapidly made inroads in the economic area and have built up some impressive infrastructure. Then with this attack on their facilities,” he paused here and swept his head from side to side, an unnecessary motion what with his compound eyes. Both men cringed slightly at that gaze, “now they have gained popular acclaim as well. I like the amount of money that they have made me and the opportunities they’ve opened. However, I do not like how powerful they are growing. Soon they may be able to influence things in this system, things that only the admin council should have the power to do.”
“I agree,” Chakrabarti said, and Kly nodded in agreement also. “I’m very surprised to hear you, Kozen’ck, take this stance. I would have expected to hear such things come from his mouth, or from Cresswell. But not you.”
“An increase in my holdings is certainly desirable,” the zheen said, affecting a pose of disdain. “But I’m not comfortable with completely giving up all the power to them. I’m not sure what their ultimate goals are.”
“I would think that’s obvious!” Kly said. “They want the Leytonstone!”
Chakrabarti glared at him. “What would be the point of returning the ship back to us if they just want to take it again? All they needed to do was prevent Leytonstone from returning to the planet. If they didn’t suffocate, they’d have starved to death. Once the fighting was done, they just made sure that the ship was pointed away from the station and then they left it there.”
First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3 Page 13