First Principles: Samair in Argos: Book 3

by KOTCHER, MICHAEL

  “Well then we definitely hold the edge!” Chakrabarti crowed. “With all of our ships we could crush them.”

  “We’re no trying to crush them, Councilor,” Tamara replied calmly. “I should think your priority would be to open up lines of business, avenues of trade. They’re the only other really industrialized star system around here, aside from any that are under Verrikoth’s control. We need to cement a relationship with them, so that if that pirate bug sticks his face around here, we’ll be ready and secured.”

  “I agree,” Kozen’ck said. “And the more you’re talking, the more I like what I hear.”

  “We’ve been doing things on our own for so long,” Chakrabarti said.

  “But those days are over,” the Triarch shot back. “Because of Ms. Samair here and her associates, we don’t have the luxury of being bunkered up. We’ve had traders from outside systems, even Republic ships coming through here. We aren’t isolated any longer.” He turned his face toward Tamara. “But if we can set up some sort of trade agreement, perhaps that could lead to something more.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m suggesting, Sebastian, that you and a group of people that you select go to Ulla-tran and hammer something out.”

  “You… wait, what?” The man sat back, stunned. “You want me to do this?”

  “Why not you?” Kozen’ck asked. “You’re a member of the admin council; you’ve negotiated a few deals before.”

  “Nothing like this! I’ve never done anything this huge.”

  “No one here has,” the zheen pointed out. “You are the one I trust to get this done.”

  The man flicked his eyes to Tamara. “You know we need to discuss this with the rest of the council.”

  Kozen’ck nodded. “Yes, of course we will. Thank you, Tamara, for bringing this to us. If we need to speak with you any further on this, we’ll contact you.”

  Tamara nodded. “I’ll be on the station for a while, I’m thinking about setting up some corporate offices here. Having everything outsystem made sense at first, but I need to have offices here as well.” She stood. “You have my comm codes. Thank you for taking this meeting.”

  “Of course. And I want to thank you for bringing this to our attention,” the zheen replied. “I want to assure you that this will be given the highest consideration.”

  Tamara looked at him for a long moment, then she nodded again and headed for the door. Once she and her guard were outside and the door closed again, Sebastian spoke. “Are you really going to consider this?”

  “I am. She made some good points.”

  “What, about that nonsense concerning her cargo ship?” Sebastian demanded. “She’s just covering for her people! They tried to push back against what was probably just a routine customs inspection, somebody got belligerent and the customs people had to fire.”

  “Tamara uploaded the warship information from the Ulla-tran system, but she also uploaded all the security footage from her ship’s internal cameras.” Kozen’ck pressed a command on his desk and the display activated so that the both of them could see. “Those soldiers boarded the ship and it looks like they were pretty rough,” the zheen commented as they saw them pin the woman at the airlock against the bulkhead and cuffed her wrists. Similar scenes played out throughout the ship as the soldiers went through and secured every compartment. Finally in the engine room, they saw them struggle with what they assumed was the engineer. The fight, the grabbing of the gun, the other soldier opening fire.

  “All right, I see it,” Sebastian said, rubbing his jaw. “And you’re right, the man there didn’t do anything to deserve to get shot. But a full on delegation to Ulla-tran? Over one incident?”

  “Do you want more incidents? This time only one person was injured,” Kozen’ck pointed out. “Next time someone might be killed, or several someones.”

  “They’re FP employees, Kozen’ck.”

  The zheen just stared at him, his antennae moving in circles. “Is that what we think of them now? They’re either working for Samair or they aren’t?” He pointed one blunted finger at the display. “Those are not foreign agents, those are Seylonique citizens! Our citizens! And yes, while I dislike some of the tactics that Samair uses and I dislike how much power she has accumulated, this whole… revival we’re going through is because of the people she brought into the fold. Our people. Our citizens. And we have a host of ships that are going that way shortly. I don’t want to see any of them hurt or killed. I don’t want to see our ships interdicted. I want to see our system continue to grow and prosper.” He buzzed a sigh. “I want to go ahead with this.”

  Sebastian was nodding, chewing his lips. “I’ll admit, I was not for this idea. I still have doubts. But after seeing that footage and… You made a good case. So did Samair. If these pirates she’s been banging on about really are out there and they really are looking in our direction, having a strong ally next door can only be a good thing.”

  “Good. Then let’s get the council together.” He paused. “And I’m going to recall the Leytonstone to the orbital. I’d like to get Colonel Gants’s opinion on all this.”

  “Gants? You want to bring him in?”

  “I’m thinking his ship is going to be instrumental in whatever we decide. It only seems reasonable that we bring him in on any discussions.”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You’re planning something,” he accused.

  Antennae flicked. “I’m the Triarch of the administratory council. Of course I’m planning something. I have lots of plans going on in my head. You should know that by now.”

  Colonel Gants looked at the recall order. “Recalled? What the hell is this? We’re not due for maintenance for another fifteen days.” The patrol around the system real estate had been going well, uneventful. Getting used to flying around the system had taken time. For the longest interval, years, a decade, Leytonstone had been tied up to the dock, slowly decaying, slowly dying. They’d rushed her into service for that abortion of an attack on FP’s gas mine, and the humiliating trip back. But then once the repairs and overhauls had been completed, his baby shone. The last several months had been a series of wargames with the FP people, tactical training, shipboard drills; it felt good. He was in a true military ship again. He had purpose; he was protecting the system, not just sitting on a rusting derelict counting down the endless, frustrating days until he could retire.

  What the hell could they possibly want from him now? His ship was in good order, morale was high and while the patrols themselves had done little but show the flag, he was fulfilling his mission.

  With a heavy sigh, he pressed a control to contact the bridge. “Bridge, this is the Colonel. Set course for the orbital, best speed.”

  “Colonel, what’s going on?” Lieutenant Commander Paxton asked.

  “Just get us turned around. We have a good trip back to the orbital station and we need to get started.”

  “Aye, sir,” the XO replied, and the conversation stopped for a moment. Gants could hear him barking orders to the bridge crew. “All right, we’re heading back.”

  “My ready room, Paxton. Now please.”

  “On my way, sir.”

  In under a minute, the man entered the ready room, the hatch sliding shut behind him. “Colonel, what’s going on? Why are we headed back?”

  Gants gestured to one of the heavy plastic chairs and the man sat, holding stiff, military posture. “I don’t have much in the way of details, XO. We got the recall order from the admin council so we’re high tailing it back.”

  Paxton waited. When Gants didn’t continue, he said, “That’s it? Just ‘come back’? That doesn’t make much sense. They must want us for something.”

  Gants gave a tired grin. “I knew I picked you as my XO for a reason.” He sobered. “Whatever the council wants us for must be big. You don’t send the system’s largest and most powerful military asset back to the orbital long before it’s necessary for no reason.”

&
nbsp; “Well, sir, I would normally say you’re correct, but this is the council we’re talking about.”

  Gants grimaced. “Ever since the refit, the admins have actually been good about giving orders. We haven’t actually had much in the way of conflicting orders or stupid orders. Only that one resupply clusterfuck that was out by the FP shipyard.”

  “I can’t believe that they actually thought that doing a package drop and recovery was the best way to do a resupply. The FP people were going crazy over that.”

  Gants smiled, reliving the memory. “And when the crate tethers came undone and crates spilled all over. I thought the chief was going to lose it.”

  “A routine resupply that should have taken ten or eleven hours that ended up taking three days?” Paxton grimaced but the smile peeked through. “At least the shuttle crews got some flight time.”

  “I know flight ops was pleased with that. But getting everything cleared up was a bitch.” Gants chuckled. “I wonder how many idiots lost their positions over that little fuck up.”

  “Probably some poor underling who had told his bosses in Supply this was an incredibly stupid idea…”

  “And who was then told to just shut up and do it,” Gants finished. He sighed. “And his upper level supervisor got yelled at and the underling got fired. In fact, look into that, would you? I think I’d like to find out what asshole might have put my ship in danger from flying debris.”

  “We were never in any danger, Colonel,” Paxton protested.

  “No, I suppose not,” he said. “But it bugs me that someone who pushed that plan would get to retain his position after a giant mess like that one. I want to find out who thought up that plan and launch them out a missile tube.”

  “All right, sir. I’ll look into it.” He pulled out a datapad and made a note.

  “So we’re actually going ahead with this?” Hyacinth Cresswell demanded. “You’re actually advocating this?”

  The administratory council had been in session for nearly six hours now and tempers were frayed. All twelve of them had shouted and argued and there had even been one attempt at a filibuster. It was not a tactic that was typically employed, but Councilor Wren from the Natoth Sectors was trying to hold up the meeting and delay a vote, hoping that the rest of the councilors wouldn’t be able to shout him down before they got so frustrated they simply quit this field of battle. After two straight hours of talking utter nonsense, it was his own stamina which failed him, and he collapsed back into his chair, puffing and sweating. The meeting returned to topic shortly thereafter. The pull of increased trade, profit and taxes, not to mention a potential mutual defense pact between the two star systems, was enough to keep all of them at least interested.

  “I call for a vote!” Harmon Kly yelled, jumping to his feet.

  “Seconded!” Sebastian Chakrabarti said, standing as well. Hyacinth growled, grinding her teeth, but she had no choice. A vote had been called.

  “Very well,” Triarch Kozen’ck replied, looking to the group at large. “All in favor of sending a delegation to Ulla-tran, under escort, to hammer out trade relations with their government?” Eight hands raised, including his own. “Opposed?” Only two hands rose; Hyacinth Cresswell had crossed her arms over her chest, and Wren was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. “Very well, the motion carries. We will be sending a delegation.”

  “If I may speak, Councilors?” Colonel Gants asked, raising a hand. The zheen gestured to him. He stood, looking at the various people in the room: four humans, two zheen, five lupusan, and one Severite. All of them were now staring at him, because out of all the people in the room, for the entire six-hour stretch, he had said not one word the whole time. “So there’s been a firm decision: ships and a delegation are going to Ulla-tran. I understand that there are five cargo ships that are scheduled to leave in less than a week. I put forth that it might be a good idea, from a public relations standpoint to bring these ships along with us. This way, it looks as though we’re bringing with us treasures and trinkets, things that the Ulla-tran people will be salivating over.” There were some noises of interest; glances were exchanged. “I also think that if possible, we should get a load of FP’s gadolinium to sell.”

  “Do you think Samair would sell?” one of the councilors asked.

  “To us or to them?” another replied.

  “Continue, Colonel,” the Triarch said, cutting across the chatter.

  Gants nodded, clearing his throat. “Anything that we can use to soften the blow of our arrival I think would be beneficial. In addition…” He paused, taking the temperature of the room for a moment before he resumed. “In addition, I believe that the best way to get the point across to these people is to send a serious symbol. You need to send Leytonstone to carry the delegation.”

  “What!”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Councilors!” Gants said, raising his voice over the crowd and waving his hands in a downward fashion to try and get them to calm down. “Think about it! From what we know of the Ulla-tran space defense forces they don’t have anything even close to what we do.” They quieted down as that point hit home. “So if we come in with Leytonstone at the head of the task force, what kind of impression will that send?”

  “That we’re an aggressive star nation looking to conquer?” Cresswell asked dryly.

  Gants tipped his head to the side, acknowledging the point. “I’m sure there will be some that think that. But it will be up to the delegation, up to you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over all of them, “to show them that this was all a grand gesture. You want to show them the power and the strength that our star nation has and what a benefit it will be to join with us.”

  There were more murmurs. “What about the defense of this system?” Kly asked. He didn’t sound as though he was demanding answers, he sounded genuinely curious about what the Colonel was going to say.

  Gants picked up his datapad. “I have given this a great deal of thought while we were in transit back to the orbital station. I believe that to show the proper amount of strength and give enough protection to the convoy, as well as maintain enough strength back home, my senior staff and I came up with this.” He pressed a control and the holo projector in the middle of the table activated. “My battlecruiser will lead the way, but we’ll be bringing the destroyers Solstice and Equinox, as well as three corvettes from planetary defense.” He waited a moment for that to sink in. “That leaves us with two destroyers, Curroth and Revenant, as well as three corvettes and the two defense cutters. This also ignores all of the FP ships that they have at their facilities. I believe that we can count on them to be part of the defense for this system. I know that now that they have finished the destroyers, they are working on four more corvettes.”

  “Yes, two for the military and two more for their own uses.” Triarch Kozen’ck replied. “Though I think they might be coming to the end of the number of ships they can comfortably afford.” The others looked at him and his antennae flicked. “Sorry, Colonel. Please continue.”

  “We will be keeping the 102nd Army Regiment aboard Leytonstone for security, which will also be going out for diplomatic security as well, unless you feel another unit would be better,” he went on. “Though I don’t believe it to be a good idea to bring along any extra ships for troop transport. Five hundred soldiers should be more than enough to handle anything we come across and if we need more, well, that’s what the ship’s armament is for.”

  “You make a compelling case, Colonel,” Kozen’ck said, gauging the temperature of the room. From the looks he was seeing, it appeared as though most of the council was sold on this idea.

  “I can’t say I’m thrilled with the idea of sending the Leytonstone away,” Cresswell said sourly.

  “No one is,” Chakrabarti said. “But this is a good move. One that might cement a serious relationship between our two star systems.”

  “Are you sure?” she pressed, waving the colonel to his seat. Gants sat down. “
Think about it in reverse. A flotilla of warships shows up in our system and says that they want to talk, to negotiate? What would our response be?”

  “We’d certainly stand up and take notice,” Kly said pompously. “Far better than if we send in one or two ships, or that flotilla without the Leytonstone. Those bastards over there would probably think they could take the convoy without the big ship in there.”

  She scowled at him. “And what do we do if this pirate lord that FP keeps railing about shows up when Leytonstone is gone?”

  But Kly wasn’t having it. “You just don’t like the idea that someone else came up with a winning strategy before you. Something that might benefit the whole system instead of just Hyacinth Cresswell.”

  “Are we really playing who’s more popular right now?” Sebastian demanded. “We have a serious trade negotiation coming up. There has been a majority ruling…”

  “Well then,” she retorted hotly, getting to her feet. “Since the council has decided, then I guess you don’t need me here. I’ll leave this important business in all of your very capable hands.” She threw up her hands in disgust and stormed out. If the hatch had been able to slam behind her it would, but the door simply slid open and then closed silently behind her.

  “Now that that’s over,” Kly said with a smirk. There were some uncomfortable murmurs from the others at the table, though two of the lupusan flicked their ears in amusement. He turned to the Triarch. “I would like to be put in charge of the delegation that’s going to Ulla-tran.”

  There were sparks of interest from the others. “You want to head up the delegation?” Kozen’ck asked.

  He started to get angry. “And why shouldn’t I? I’ve been on this council for twenty-two years. I have more experience than two thirds of the members here.”

  “Yes that’s true,” Chakrabarti replied. “Except for the Triarch, myself and Arathos, you have the longest service with the admin council. That’s why I would be honored if you would join the delegation, as my second.”