“The only difference is whether I’m sitting in my room, or in the captain’s room. Either way, I tire out at the same rate.”
“Well, that may be true, but...”
“Am I getting in the way here?” she asked, not sarcastically, but honestly.
“No, of course not. I just remember what happened all that time ago...”
“All that time ago?”
“Yes. When I went out to engage in trade for the first time, I mean. I could have gotten into it after serving as a Roïrilbigac (Vice Navigator) or some such on a large vessel somewhere, but I borrowed money from my father and rented a ship, just like that. It was a small ship, of course. And back then, I couldn’t leave the bridge, no matter what.”
“Did you sleep there, too?”
“Yes,” said Sobash, nodding bashfully. “I napped in the Captain’s Seat. The crew warned me, but I wouldn’t listen, and when the all-important bargaining got underway, I was tottering on my feet. I took so much in losses.”
“I get plenty of sleep in my room.”
“You’re certainly better than I used to be,” he smiled.
“It’s been five years since I was appointed, and more than a year since I first saw formal battle.”
“All the more reason I feel you should give yourself a little more room to breathe.”
“I see you, too, would treat me like a child,” pouted Lafier.
“Far from it. I just can’t stand by and say nothing to the next generation, understand?”
“Just can’t stand by?” The royal princess frowned. If her subordinates harbored misgivings about her, then she had a big problem on her hands.
“And to be honest, the young woman I’m watching is, in her eagerness, stretching herself thin.”
“Am I? Am I being too zealous?”
“That’s what it looks like to me.”
She had no intention of acting with single-minded zeal. After all, she wasn’t thrilled to be saddled with the role of Lady Agent to begin with. She just wanted to properly carry out the mission she was assigned, and that was what she thought she’d been doing. She didn’t view herself as particularly ardent about it.
“What do you do when you’re alone?” asked Lafier. Truth be told, she wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to be doing when resting. Ecryua was most likely asleep, and even if she wasn’t, she wasn’t exactly a scintillating conversationalist. There were starpilots who could carry lively conversations with NCCs. On the Basrogrh, there were two: Samson and Jint. But Lafier could never hope to emulate them. She was always aware how on guard her potential chatting partners got around her. And if she wasn’t wrong, it’d be difficult for Sobash and Ecryua, too. Speaking with Landers had to be a tricky art to master for everyone who just so happened to have blue hair and spatiosensory perception.
Be that as it may, she also didn’t care to spend all of her time by her lonesome, diligently crafting something or other. That was why she was interested in what Sobash did when alone.
“That is a very personal question,” smiled Sobash.
“Was it untoward of me to ask? Forgive me.”
“No, I have nothing to hide.” The Senior Starpilot’s grin grew wider. “For your information, I dictate letters.”
“Every day?”
“Yes, every day. One after the other, to the people I know. Also, though I’m currently on the battle front, I also have some business to attend to. There are administrative things to take note of.”
“Do you not get tired of it?”
“Writing the letters isn’t as fun as getting the replies back. Whenever I send a letter, it’s because I want to hear back from the recipient. It’s a good way to keep my relationships with people from crumbling away, too.”
“What do you mean, ‘crumbling away’?”
“You can be quite close to someone, but if you don’t interact for long stretches of time, that familiarity can only dissipate over time. But with the magic of correspondence, you don’t need to meet face-to-face to interact. So now I know that my funeral will be a boisterous affair!” he laughed. “I don’t think I can expect you or the others to attend, though we seem to be seeing each other every single day as of late, Captain.”
“You’re right,” said Lafier, smiling as well.
The crew was staking their lives on the ship, and that was doubly the case for a small vessel like an assault ship. Were Sobash to die in battle, then it would be because the Basrogrh had been shot to ruins. And in that case, none of the other members would survive, either.
“By the way, are you really sure you don’t want to go rest?”
“I would much rather keep chatting with you,” said Lafier, resting her chin in her hands. “To take my mind off the boredom.”
“I’m technically supposed to be on duty,” said Sobash, though he didn’t seem bothered by the prospect at all.
“Only technically, surely?”
“Yes. Only technically,” he answered.
But that was when they heard the incoming-call ringtone.
“A call from the surface. It’s Rearguard Lynn.”
“Put it through,” said Lafier, getting to her feet.
The video came up, and in it, Jint looked haggard. “Lady Agent, this is your Lady Agent Adjunct, calling from the landworld.”
That was blindingly obvious, but Lafier nodded. “What’s the matter?”
“Remember the relocation thing? They’ve reached a conclusion. They really will be emigrating. The itinerary’s set, so I’ll be sending it over.”
“Understood. At any rate, you look a little exhausted.”
“I’m more than a little exhausted.”
“Should I go down there, too?”
Jint seemed taken aback, but soon he was shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. Better if you stay up there.”
“Okay.” She did have tasks to see to aboard the Basrogrh. If she left, then the burden on Sobash and Ecryua’s shoulders would balloon.
“The first batch is projected to be twelve thousand people. We’ll be ferrying people from the surface into orbit using the Dacsaith a bunch of times. Hope the preparations for the supply ships that’ll be taking them past that point will go all right.”
“I tried asking, and they said that since they’re for transporting goods, they’re not made to receive passengers,” said Lafier, relaying the words of the Transport Unit Commander with her arms folded. “And twelve thousand is too many. Eight thousand is the occupancy limit.”
Judging by Jint’s face, this was an unpleasant surprise. “Then are you going to arrange for a new ship?”
“I suppose I have no other choice. I’ll send out a conveyance ship without delay. I will have the first eight thousand board ship, though.”
“But didn’t you say they’re not built to receive passengers...?”
“Meaning it won’t be a pleasant journey for them. They’ll need to bear with it for around ten days.”
Jint groaned in response. “I’ll try persuading him. Though if he doesn’t give the nod, it’ll just delay their flight out of here. Could I get the files on the ship’s occupant habitability?”
“Sure. I’ll have the Symh Salygr (Transport Unit) send them to you directly.”
“Thanks. One more thing: I just got the ‘Landworld Citizen Representative Succession Ranking List,’ which I’ll send you as well. They’d like us to keep the existence of the succession rankings from the inmates, let alone what they are.”
“Is that a record of who will be Citizen Representative after the current landworld administration leaves?”
“Nope. Mr. Maydeen’s a prudent man. The list details who will have to head up their emigration should something ever happen to him. If the guards make their way out, then the list becomes irrelevant.”
“Understood.” Prudent is good, she thought.
“Right, well, I’ll probably have to call you again in a bit, but I’m going to drop the line for now.”
Lafier nodded, and when she sat herself back down, the video disappeared.
Jint breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the stars Lafier agreed to stay in orbit. The situation on this world was complicated enough as it stood.
He then exited the “communications room,” which was what he called this little room. While all he needed to communicate was his wristgear, in order to transmit messages he didn’t want the landworld citizens to overhear, he needed a room he knew was not wiretapped. And the other great thing about the room? How very close it was to the conference room.
The second he stepped foot into the conference room, the eyes of all assembled inside fell on him at once. Maydeen and the two self-professed Star System Premiers had been waiting for him. Anguson had declined to attend, or perhaps more accurately, was ignoring it, since he hadn’t responded to Maydeen’s attendance request at all.
Along the right wall stood the NCCs under Mechanics Linewing Samson.
I hope, for my sake and theirs, they’re enjoying this “bodyguard” mission, thought Jint. I hope it doesn’t become an actual bodyguard mission.
Samson certainly seemed to be enjoying it. In fact, bearing a holster heavy with a lightgun appeared to stir wistful memories of his homeworld. As to why his homeworld and lightguns were so connected, Jint had neglected to ask.
Along the left wall stood Maydeen’s armed prison guards, all wearing cantankerous expressions. And at the back stood the prisoners, who were evidently there to guard Dohkfoo and Shungarr’s respective persons. Their presence was demanded by the self-proclaimed Premiers as a condition for their attendance (and was a factor in the delaying of this conference, too). Being prisoners, they were unarmed; the fact that they couldn’t possibly be armed was a formal stance both the prison administration and the prisoner population agreed on. Despite that, Dohkfoo hinted at a request to be lent arms, but Maydeen staunchly refused.
“How did it go, Lady Agent Adjunct, Your Excellency?” asked Maydeen.
“Twelve thousand is too many for the ship currently in orbit. We can take up to eight thousand for the first batch.” Jint didn’t give them a moment to interject; he knew it was best to bear all of the bad news up front. “Also, the ship’s habitability is awful. I think it’d be a better idea to wait for a ship that’s made to carry people, like a passenger ship. Though it’ll most likely end up being a military-use personnel supply ship.”
“If you can only accommodate eight thousand, then how about telling us that from the jump?” said Maydeen.
The twelve thousand slated to be the first batch comprised the entirety of the private citizenry, including the shopkeepers and the administrative staff members’ families. This meant that as Chief Executive, Maydeen had to revise the selection standard so as to leave four thousand people behind. Jint supposed it was only natural he’d be upset.
“If you’re not in too much of a hurry, might I suggest waiting for a more suitable ship?” suggested Jint. “As I’ve said over and over, the two ships in orbit are supply ships handling goods. And while it would certainly be less expensive for the Star Forces if you actually decide to use them...”
“I see Your Excellency is a straight talker,” said Shungarr. “After all, you could have just kept that to yourself and thrown us in a ship’s storage sector to do the job on the cheap. But instead, you’re sending for a ship for us.”
“You’re all already cherished landworld citizens of the Empire,” said Jint.
“So, if the administration people are passing on the first batch, could you take us instead?” said Shungarr.
“Who said we’re passing on it!?” erupted Maydeen. “And this is the first I’ve heard of you lot leaving the planet!”
“It would be. I never had a chance to tell you before now. Allow me to say it loud and clear: We, the residents of the West Correctional Zone, will evacuate Lohbnahss II and leave this star system.”
Jint wished he could hold his head in his hands; now he had another misery-inducing obstacle to deal with.
“That cannot be allowed,” said Maydeen, red in the face. “You are criminals. And criminals must atone for their sins. And now you... you’d have your freedom, just like that? Do you think nothing of your victims’ desire for justice!?”
“The folks locked up in this joint aren’t the type to be looking deep inside themselves,” Shungarr quipped sarcastically. “Not on this far-flung rock.”
“And would you be fine with that, Count?” said Maydeen, facing Jint’s way. “Letting criminals loose?”
“I’d have to ask a specialist in the law before getting back to you with anything definitive, but I think that’s probably out of our hands. The ladies and gentlemen here weren’t convicted under imperial law. And they would be transferred to a prison camp, anyway. The only real problem lies in the right of the landworld administrations to vet who gets to relocate. I hate to break it to you, but...” Jint looked at Shungarr and Dohkfoo.
“Please, go on. You don’t have to worry about us,” said Dohkfoo, smiling broadly. Jint could tell he was grinning to hide his naturally frenzied-looking face.
“Well, I just don’t think there are worlds out there that welcome folks with criminal records.”
“The prison camp is fine,” asserted Shungarr. “Anywhere’s paradise compared to this hopeless, miserable planet.”
“You said society on a ‘prison camp’ planet is the same as any other planet’s, didn’t you?” Maydeen persisted. “They’ll commit more crimes there, too, given the chance. Does that really sit well with you? Is the Empire powerless to stop that? Or does the Empire just not concern itself with crime on landworlds?”
The Empire probably doesn’t care much, no. But Jint took another tack: “As far as I’ve been told, depending on the character of the camp, problems can arise with some regularity, so penal law tends to be on the stricter end of the spectrum.”
“Exactly how strict are we talking?” said Maydeen, dubious.
Jint spoke the question into his wristgear, and read the search result. “Let’s see... Seems like in a typical prison camp, the maximum sentence for all crimes is death.”
“Even just for a recreational spot of fraud!?” shouted Dohkfoo, shocked.
“Even just for low-key offing some clingy wanker!?” shouted Shungarr, shocked.
“So it seems. The minimum sentence for fraud is ten years hard labor, and the minimum for murder is twenty-five years hard labor. No probation or suspended sentences, either.”
“Going to back out on relocating now?” Maydeen smirked.
“No way,” said Shungarr, glaring at the Chief Executive. “It’s still better than here. We’ll be fine as long as we don’t do anything wrong. Meanwhile, this planet’s turning into hell in no time.”
“I can’t let that remark pass, Ms. Shungarr,” said Dohkfoo. “You may be intent on leaving, but we’re not. We’re going to build an ideal society here.”
“Right alongside Anguson?” she sniped coldly. “Best of luck there.”
“We’d like your zone to stay, too, Ms. Shungarr.”
“But why? If we leave, then you’re a shoo-in for System Premier. Well, I don’t think Anguson will take that lying down, but at least one competitor will be out of your hair.”
“If your zone were to vacate, this planet’s future would be forfeit. You’re the only ones who can give birth.”
“Don’t be stupid!” said Shungarr, half-rising out of her seat to slam the table. “So let me get this straight: You only need us around to bear your seed, is that it? We are NOT your broodmares! And you’d have Anguson and his boys impregnate us? Well think again, because we refuse, you hear me? We REFUSE!”
“I didn’t mean to say it’d only be to give birth...” said Dohkfoo, visibly perplexed. “We know you’ll pitch in in other ways, too, of course. And you’d be free to love, marry, and reproduce as you see fit. Plus, if you don’t like the fuss of marriage, there’s always artificial insemination.”
“Forget
it!” she replied firmly, before turning to the Chief Executive. “Now you see why we can’t stay here!”
“I’m willing to admit that was worded tactlessly,” said Dohkfoo. “But without fertile females, where does that leave this planet? It’s not as though we can hold out for settlers from other systems for the foreseeable future.”
“What do I care? If you ask me, this planet never had a future to begin with.”
“Uhh, if I may,” said Jint, “we can easily provide the planet with artificial childbirth tech. Rest assured the method is very safe. And there are plenty of territory-nations that’ll gladly provide you with egg cells and sperm.”
Jint was aware that in bringing that up, egg cells and sperm could very well be the first trade agreement he’d preside over as Count of Hyde. But the three of them just stood there, stiff as trees, looking at him. Judging by their faces, his suggestion wasn’t even worth considering.
“We’ll, uhh, think of that as a last resort,” said Dohkfoo, breaking the silence with a dark look.
“Putting that aside,” said Shungarr, “we’re leaving. I trust that’s okay with you, Chief Executive.”
“It can’t be helped,” said Maydeen. “That being said, you are lower priority evacuees. First we evacuate the non-personnel, then the personnel, and then you.”
“You should view us as non-personnel, too.”
“Surely you’re joking.”
“Look, we’re not here because we ever wanted to be. We were tossed into this slammer by force. Just think about that.”
“You’re not getting to me with that poor excuse for an argument. You are criminals, yet here you are, making yourselves out to be victims.”
“We’re victims of society.”
“You can say that at this late date if you like, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“If you let us on first, then we won’t have to sit here arguing back and forth like this.”
“It’s out of the question!”
The way Jint saw it, this fledgling landworld administration lacked any really qualified parties, and it was killing him inside that that still didn’t mean he could just choose for them. Frankly, he had no idea what to do from here. He could sense his thought patterns turning gradually more negative. All he wanted was for an experienced magistrate, whose line of work this actually was, to come take over the job that had been foisted upon them for no other reason than that she was an Imperial and he was a noble. Not that they’d ever told them that was the reason, but what else could it reasonably be?
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