The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Thank you,” Sameena said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

  Cook gave her a charming smile, then looked over at Ethne. “And Sameena is ...?”

  “My adopted daughter – at least for the moment – and apprentice,” Ethne said. “I thought that she should sit in on the negotiations.”

  “I can't see any harm in it,” Cook said. He led them over to a small table and motioned for them to sit down. “You drink tea?”

  Ethne laughed. “It is socially impossible to not drink tea when dealing with the Imperial Navy,” she said. “Of course I drink tea.”

  Sameena frowned, confused.

  “There’s a long-standing tradition that the Imperial Navy drinks tea, while the ground-pounders drink coffee,” Cook explained, seeing her puzzlement. “It’s complete nonsense, of course, but we just can't get away from it.”

  He picked up a tray containing a kettle, three mugs and a small jug of milk and put it down on the table. “There are traditions that tell us how to serve it,” he added, “but I’m not going to bother. Besides, this place doesn't bother to buy real tea leaves to flavour its water.”

  Sameena looked over at Ethne. “Is there an opportunity there?”

  “Maybe,” Cook answered, before Ethne could say a word. “But I wouldn't expect too much outside the navy.”

  He poured three mugs of tea, then picked one up and passed it to Sameena. She took a sip and frowned. It tasted suspiciously like the powdered tea Paddy had made, the second night she’d spent on the freighter. The milk, on the other hand, seemed to add more flavour than the processed tea granules.

  For a long moment, they sipped in silence – and then Cook leaned forward. “I understand that you are currently looking for a charter,” he said. “We need a small consignment of supplies shipped from Madagascar to Sungai Buloh. Your freighter would be ideal for our purposes.”

  Ethne frowned. “I thought Sungai Buloh was a war zone,” she said. “Or have the insurgents been suppressed?”

  “You wouldn't be required to land, or do more than dock at the orbital station,” Cook assured her. It wasn’t quite an answer. “Once there, you would unload your cargo and then depart – if you couldn't find a charter there. We would be happy to alter the fees to ensure that you were not out of pocket.”

  Sameena considered it as she sipped her tea. Logan was permanently on a shoestring, needing to find a new charter in every port – or the ship’s debts would eventually catch up with her crew. If they went to Sungai Buloh and couldn't find a charter there, they might be in real trouble. The offer to increase the fees accordingly was incredibly tempting. But didn't that make it too good to be true?

  Ethne seemed to be having similar thoughts. “What sort of cargo will we be carrying?”

  “Various supplies that have been urgently requisitioned by the garrison commander,” Cook said, reluctantly. “Nothing dangerous ...”

  He pulled a datachip out of his uniform pocket and passed it to Ethne. “That’s our proposed contract, our offer of fees and other such details,” he added, as she slotted it into her datapad. “I think you will find it more than generous.”

  Ethne looked up. “Why can't you use one of your own freighters?”

  Cook hesitated, just like Abdul had when he’d been on the verge of telling a lie, then made a visible decision to be honest. “Most of our transports have been pulled out of the sector,” he said, reluctantly. “We are forced to improvise.”

  Sameena took the datapad when Ethne passed it to her and skimmed through the contract as quickly as she could. It looked very like the others she’d seen during Ethne’s tutoring sessions, apart from the offer to provide an escort ship if one was available. The total fee was eight hundred thousand credits, half paid in advance. It was not a small sum.

  “It looks good,” Ethne said, taking the datapad back. “Will you be providing additional crew?”

  “We are stretched too thin to detach anyone for your ship,” Cook admitted. “However, you could take on temps from this station.”

  “We could,” Ethne said. She looked down at the datapad for a long moment, rereading the contract thoughtfully. “When do you wish us to depart?”

  “If you can be ready to leave in a day, a destroyer will escort you,” Cook said. “After that ... you’ll have to leave alone, within the week.”

  “Understood,” Ethne said. She pressed her thumb against the datapad. “We accept your contract.”

  Sameena fought to keep her surprise off her face. Ethne had just agreed, without consulting her husband ... she’d known that Ethne enjoyed more independence than any woman on Jannah, but Sameena had never really comprehended just how independent Ethne was until seeing her make a unilateral decision for the entire ship’s crew. Even her father would have exploded with rage if her mother had made such an agreement.

  But the contract wouldn’t be legal on Jannah either, she thought, sourly. Her husband or father would have to undersign it.

  “There is a second matter,” Cook said, once he’d countersigned the contract and uploaded a copy to the asteroid’s datanet. “We need you to transport a message from us to an officer on the picket there, without using the standard datanet. If you will carry it for us, there will be an additional ten thousand credits for you two – personally.”

  Sameena frowned, then realised that he was suggesting that they didn't have to share the money with anyone else on Logan, including the Captain. Was that even legal?

  “We’d be delighted,” Ethne said, without looking at Sameena. “I assume that the message is encoded?”

  Cook produced a small box from his uniform and passed it over to her. “The box is sealed, with the chip inside further encrypted,” he said. “I shouldn't have to warn you that trying to decrypt the message will destroy the chip and we will notice.”

  He smiled, rather dryly. “There may be a reply,” he added. “If so, there will be an additional payment upon delivery – one large enough to cover all of your costs.”

  “Thank you,” Ethne said, pocketing the chip. “I look forward to doing more business with you in the future.”

  “I shall hope so,” Cook said. He gave Sameena another charming smile, then passed her a small card. “Perhaps you would join me for a drink when you return?”

  Sameena hesitated, looking down at the card. It showed Cook’s name, his ship and a string of numbers and letters she vaguely recognised as a personal communications code. If a message was uploaded into the Imperial Navy datanet in any system, she had been told, it would eventually make its way to wherever Cook was stationed.

  “She has a lot of work to do,” Ethne said, softly. “I don’t think she could make any promises.”

  “The lot of juniors everywhere,” Cook agreed. He stood up and bowed to them both. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  Sameena looked up long enough to watch him go, then looked over at Ethne. “What does he want?”

  “A date, a drink ... perhaps more, if you wanted to go further,” Ethne said. She shrugged, then smiled. “You seem to have made a new friend.”

  “And you took his datachip,” Sameena said. “Shouldn't you mention it to your husband?”

  “I’ll give you half the fee for keeping quiet,” Ethne said. She laughed at Sameena’s shock. “Don’t worry, I will tell Tom about the chip. Tradition says we get to keep ninety percent of the fee, however.”

  She stood up and led the way back to the docks, bouncing questions off Sameena as they walked. “How did your exams go?”

  “My brain was hurting afterwards,” Sameena admitted, still a little bothered by how easily Ethne had decided to take the chip. “Is that a good sign?”

  “Pain builds character, my father always said,” Ethne said. “But once you start regular schooling, you should be able to build up some genuine qualifications. You’re going to need them, unless you want to remain a lowly deckhand for the rest of your days.”

  She paused outside
one of the shops. “I think you’ll want to see this,” she said, as she pushed a glass door open. “Look for something familiar. But keep your mouth shut.”

  Sameena frowned as she followed Ethne inside. The shop was larger than she had realised, but almost empty, save for a single table. But the walls were lined with shelves, each one holding a single glass bottle filled with coloured liquid. Short notes beside them indicated point of origin, alcoholic strength and a handful of other details that made no sense to her. There was nothing to indicate price ... she couldn't help feeling that she was sinning just by stepping into the shop. Almost everything seemed to be thoroughly alcoholic.

  “Whiskey from Nova Scotia,” Ethne said, pointing to one of the bottles. Her finger moved from bottle to bottle. “Asteroid Ale from Ceres. Vodka from Stalin Prime. Fruit Punch from Tropicana. And Firewater Mead.”

  She smiled as Sameena stepped closer. “If you have to ask the price,” she whispered, “you can't afford it.”

  The bottle of Firewater Mead seemed to be glowing, slightly ... or was that just Sameena’s imagination? It was small; she estimated that it held barely a pint of liquid ... and it wasn't even the smallest bottle in the shop. The brief note beside the bottle didn't say anything about its point of origin, merely a note that it was not alcoholic and was rated safe for human consumption.

  “One of the most popular drinks in the system,” a voice said, from behind them. Sameena spun around to see a thin, elf-like man standing there, rubbing inhumanly long fingers together. His face looked equally inhuman. “That bottle is worth one hundred thousand credits.”

  Sameena blinked in surprise. Captain Hamilton had told her that the mead was expensive, but she hadn't quite believed him. But one hundred thousand credits ... her wages for a month on Logan were barely four thousand credits. How could anyone afford to buy Firewater Mead?

  The very rich buy it as a status symbol, she told herself. That’s what makes it so expensive.

  “We’ll have to look elsewhere,” Ethne said, leading Sameena out of the shop. “The Captain will need a cheaper gift.”

  She laughed as soon as the door was firmly shut. “Did you notice what he didn't do?”

  Sameena nodded. “He didn't try to bargain,” she said.

  “Indeed not,” Ethne agreed. “He knows that there is enough of a market for his products that he doesn’t have to bargain. That should be useful, later.”

  They met Jayne outside the airlock, who passed Sameena a small plastic bag of clothing. “There were a couple of offers to do locum work on the station,” she said, as Ethne opened the airlock. “How long are we staying here?”

  “Ideally, we want to leave tomorrow,” Ethne said. “But I’ll explain it all once your father calls a crew meeting.”

  Stepping back onboard Logan felt almost like coming home, Sameena was surprised to discover. She started to head down towards her cabin, only to be stopped by Ethne who reminded her that there was going to be a crew meeting. The last one had left her feeling oddly out of place, but now she was being paid ... it felt as if she should attend.

  “Put on your new clothes first,” Jayne suggested. “See if you can give Brad a heart attack.”

  Ethne glared at her daughter. “You’re not so old I can't beat you,” she said, crossly. “Or sentence you to clean the waste disposal pipes on your own.”

  The galley was barely large enough to hold the entire crew, even though the kids were off visiting friends on the asteroid rather than joining the meeting. Ethne waited until Paddy had passed out the drinks, then nodded to her husband who called the meeting to order.

  “We have a contract,” she announced, and outlined the terms of the agreement. “We’re going to be hauling freight for the Imperial Navy. If we manage to get everything loaded up by tomorrow, we will be escorted as we leave the system.”

  “That’s good,” Hamilton said, once she had finished. “An escort would deter pirates from attacking us, if they found out what we were carrying.”

  Sameena studied him with some interest. If he was irked that his wife had committed him to taking the contract without consulting him, he didn't show it. Perhaps he was planning to yell at her in the privacy of their cabin, but it seemed unlikely. She was starting to realise that their relationship was built on love, trust and mutual respect, not subordination and submission. Ethne didn't have to take her husband’s opinion as the last word in anything.

  Jayne looked down at the contract, then over at her mother. “We do have to take on some more supplies from Madagascar,” she said. “This contract stipulates that we have to pick up their cargo from the naval base. It will be tricky to do both in time, unless you want to pay premium rates.”

  “I’ll see if I can call in some favours,” Hamilton said. “Steve? How’s the drive?”

  “I switched out the vital components over the last two days,” Steve said, “and laid in some more supplies. We do need to refuel, but that won’t take too long. If worst comes to worst, we can do it at the naval base while loading the supplies and pay their rates. God knows they should help us if they’re that desperate to get supplies to their destination.”

  Brad smiled. “There might be a permanent contract in it for us,” he said. “A good report from the Imperial Navy would go a long way.”

  “But we don’t want permanent contracts,” Hamilton reminded his son. He looked around the compartment. “We’ll undock tonight and move over to the naval base. Can we have our supplies by then?”

  “Probably,” Jayne said. “But we will have to pay.”

  Hamilton nodded. “See to it,” he said. He raised his voice. “Is there any other business?”

  “There was a second contract,” Ethne said, and explained briefly about the message. “I don’t know what it means.”

  “Odd,” Hamilton mused. “If they’re sending a destroyer to escort us, why couldn't someone on the destroyer hand-carry the message?”

  He shook his head. “But it doesn't matter,” he added, “as long as we get paid.”

  Sameena made a mental note to research the Imperial Navy more thoroughly. Jannah didn't really have an army, beyond the Guardians. There was certainly nothing reassembling the Empire’s colossal military machine, either on the ground or in space. But if the Imperial Navy was hiring civilian transports to move their supplies ... what did it mean? Where were their transports?

  She thought briefly about the small pile of notes she was collecting on her terminal, looking up details on spare parts for starships. Could the Imperial Navy be having its own supply problems? Cook had given her his contact code; she could ask him ... but she was sure that he wouldn't answer, not directly.

  Hamilton snorted, drawing her attention back to him. “Anything else?”

  “It’s Regina’s birthday in a week,” Jayne said. “She’ll be ten years old.”

  “Get a few party supplies from Madagascar,” Ethne ordered. She looked over at Sameena. “When’s your birthday?”

  Sameena hesitated.

  “It would have to be calculated,” Paddy said, before she could hazard an answer. “Jannah’s dating system is not based on the Imperial standard.”

  “Do it,” Hamilton ordered. He gave Sameena a smile. “Now you’re part of the crew, you deserve to have your own birthday celebrated.”

  “Thank you,” Sameena whispered. Abdul’s birthdays had been celebrated, but hers had been largely ignored, save by her mother and father. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Nonsense,” Ethne said. “You’re one of us now.”

  Sameena was still smiling hours later.

  Chapter Ten

  This, in short, provides the impetus for the development of money. Money provides a common object of value that can be exchanged between people who would otherwise have nothing they could share. The butcher might not need new shoes, but money would allow him to buy knives instead. As long as people are willing and able to recognise the value of money, trade can take place.

&nbs
p; - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  “I used to think about joining the navy,” Brad said, as the Imperial Navy base came into view. It was an impressive network of tubes and spheres, with a dozen starships in close attendance. “But I never did.”

  Sameena didn't take her eyes off the viewscreen. “Why didn’t you join?”

  “Never had the patience for spit-and-polish,” Brad admitted. “Besides, there’s a lot of discrimination against independent traders and RockRats in the Imperial Navy. I would have been lucky to become a mustang; there was certainly no chance that I would be allowed to go straight into the Naval Academy. I get a better life out here.”

  He looked over at her. “Where do you want to be in ten years?”

  Sameena smiled. “My own ship,” she said. She did have other ideas, but she didn't want to discuss them too openly. “And go trading across the stars.”

  Brad grinned. “Me too,” he admitted. “But I would have thought that you would have wanted to go home and exact a little revenge.”

  The thought had crossed Sameena’s mind after she’d realised just what an advantage it would be to have a single armed starship in orbit around a defenceless world. She could drop rocks on the Guardians from orbit and batter the entire planet into submission, then punish the clerics for what they had done to her family. But there would be no shortage of problems in governing the world afterwards. Perhaps she would just offer free tickets off-world for everyone, male or female, who wanted to leave. The ones who remained behind would at least have had a choice.

  “Maybe later,” she said, reluctantly.

  A dull thump ran through the ship as they docked with the naval base. “Rough arrival,” Brad commented, ruefully. “Dad’s going to yell at me later.”

  Sameena shrugged. No one had let her steer the ship outside simulations, not after she’d crashed it into the orbital station twice. Ethne had been very sarcastic afterwards, listing all the mistakes she’d made and loudly praising God that it had all been simulated. If it had taken place in reality, she’d concluded, over a thousand people would have died in a heartbeat, including the entire crew. Sameena had honestly thought that Ethne was going to hit her. Instead, she’d had to go through it again and again until she knew what she’d done wrong.