A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4

by Michael Kotcher

  “What message?” The constant pounding of his heart was slowing. They were still alive.

  She nodded. “Oh, yes, of course, I’m rambling on here. The ship had taken some damage, but thankfully, no serious casualties. And now they need help to get home.”

  His mouth tightened to a thin line. “I see. Do you have any sensor data that you could send over about the fight?”

  Porphyria nodded. “Of course. I mean, Idelle Ganymede’s sensors aren’t the same as a warship’s but I did manage to get a picture of the whole event.”

  “Excellent, would you send me a copy?”

  She nodded again. “Of course. You just need to get permission from the home office and I’ll happily turn over my sensor records.”

  “The home… Are you kidding me? One of my ships falls under attack and you’re hiding behind bureaucratic red tape?” He was nearly out of his chair on his feet in his fury.

  She flinched. “I’m sorry, Captain, I mean Colonel, but my hands are tied. Rotheram Transport has very strict rules governing turning over proprietary records-“

  “Proprietary records?!” Gants almost shouted. “I don’t care about your merchant practices or the technology used on your ship. I care about the people on that ship back there in Bimawae.”

  She gave a grim smile. “I do understand your position, Colonel, but as I said, my hands are tied. If you want the records, you’ll have to appeal for them to the Home office. Good day.” And she cut the connection.

  “Damn it!” Gants shouted. He slammed a hand down on the controls. “Paxton, get in here!” he all but bellowed.

  Two seconds later, the ship’s first officer came pelting into the ready room, looking for threats. “Are you all right, Colonel?”

  “No, I am not all right, XO,” Gants said, rocketing to his feet and pacing around the room. “Apparently, Kingston has come under attack.” Seeing Paxton’s angered response, he went on. “I know. It seems there was some sort of altercation there in Bimawae and the ship came under attack from a pirate ship.”

  Paxton blinked. “A pirate ship?”

  “Yes, that’s what the captain of the cargo ship I just talked to said.”

  “Well, did he say what kind of pirate ship? One of those big cruisers that was here during the battle for the Outer System?”

  “It’s a she, actually and no. She didn’t say. Just a ‘pirate ship’. But apparently Kingston took some damage from this attacker and is now sitting, disabled, in Bimawae.”

  He let out a long breath. “Well, sir, I guess that’s some good news anyway. That she wasn’t destroyed, I mean. What do we do now?”

  Gants swung his arms back and forth and let out a groan. “I don’t know. What I want to do is get the big girl fired up and go out there and find Kingston and bring them all home.” He stopped, facing the bulkhead and away from his XO, putting his hands on his hips. “But I know we have another month’s worth of work before this ship is ready.”

  “About that, sir, yes.”

  “Then we’ll have to send someone else. I want to send Greer, but he’s already made noises that his patrol is meant to be out at the gas mine, not here at the shipyard, so I think I’ll give him what he wants and keep him here in the system.”

  “So you’re thinking of sending a destroyer?”

  Gants turned and faced the man. “I need to have a ship that’s big enough to be able to handle anything they might encounter there in the system and they’re the biggest we’ve got.”

  “So who to send?” Paxton asked. “We’ve got a number of ships that are on patrol in the inner system, are we choosing one of them?”

  “No,” Gants said in response. “We’ll send Equinox. Get with the people in Ordnance and Supply, and make sure that that ship is stuffed to the bulkheads with spares and parts to fix up Kingston. I’ll get the orders cut for you. If you need to, talk with the yard manager here and see what she can do to facilitate.

  Paxton nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll start making calls right away.”

  “And I need to send a message to the Rotheram Home offices to get that damned captain of theirs to release their sensor logs of the attack.” He ran his hands over his head. “I want to know what the hell they were fighting over.”

  “Well, sir,” Paxton said as he gestured to the door for himself to leave and received a nod in confirmation, “They are pirates. Our people don’t really need an excuse to fight them, and sadly, nor do they for us. They’re pirates, sir,” he repeated.

  “They are that, Mister Paxton. Carry on.”

  “Councilor, we’re approaching the planet,” Commander Reshi Dharvhan reported to her Uncle. There was little room for the Councilor on Spirit’s very cramped bridge, and certainly nowhere for the man to sit, so he stood to the side of her command seat, making sure that he stayed out of the bridge crew’s way. It was easy enough, the five ship convoy was simply coasting along, coming into Heb. It was merely a matter of course corrections, there was no danger detected.

  “Thank you, Commander,” he replied, resting one hand on the back of her chair. “If you could please open a channel to the government house? I’d like to speak with the head of the city. I think his title was governor?”

  “Comms, you heard the man,” Reshi ordered. “Send a message to the planet. Give our identification and let them know we wish to speak with the governor of the city. We’re here to trade and to speak about mutually beneficial matters.”

  The man seated at the communications console nodded in acknowledgement and then turned to his console to compose the message.

  ~~~~~*~~~~~

  “Governor, we’re receiving a transmission from a vessel in orbit, says the name of the ship is the Spirit.”

  Acheron Val looked up from the never ending mountain of paperwork on his desk. There were always reports, schedules, memorandums, among many others. There were often times when Val asked himself, Why in the hell did I ever want this job? “The Spirit? I don’t know any ship by that name.”

  “They say they’re here to discuss trade and ‘mutually beneficial matters’,” his aide Rodney told him.

  Acheron blinked. “That certainly sounds inviting. But other than the name of the ship we don’t have anything else on these people?”

  The aide shook his head. “No, Governor, I’m sorry. They haven’t sent any follow up message.”

  He frowned for a moment, but then his expression changed to one of fear. “You don’t think this is another of the Warlord’s ships, do you? Mutually beneficial meaning we pay and he lets us live to keep paying?”

  Rodney considered this. “I suppose it could be, Governor,” he said after a long moment. “But it didn’t have the feel of a threat. More of someone looking for trade and profit.”

  “All right. Where do I talk with them? Are they coming down or do they expect a reply?”

  Rodney led him over to the other seat in the governor’s office which held the communications console purchased from the Grania Estelle over a year ago. It certainly didn’t fit in with the wood paneling and the more formal atmosphere of the rest of the office, but it was a much more modern piece of equipment than anything his own people had yet produced. But they were working on it. He sat down in front of the console and Rodney reached over and tapped a few controls. “Are you ready, sir?”

  Acheron took a deep breath, let it out slowly, centering himself. After two more seconds of forced relaxation, he nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Rodney pressed the last button and a display popped into life, showing a standby message. A moment later, a face appeared: a male zheen wearing a surcoat with an unfamiliar crest. Acheron mentally tensed. It wasn’t the same sort of livery that the Warlord’s people used, but it might be another of his ships, or perhaps even another faction? “This is the Spirit,” the zheen replied.

  “This is Acheron Val, Governor of the city of Vanoria. I wish to speak with the commanding officer of your vessel.” He tried to make himself sound confident, though he’d be
en rocked with fear at the sight of the zheen’s face.

  The zheen paused for a moment. “Wait one. Please hold for Councilor Chakrabarti.” And the screen blanked, showing the standby message again.

  Acheron blinked. A Councilor? What did that mean? Was the Warlord now sending over a new person to govern what he considered his property? He could feel himself starting to sweat.

  He wasn’t forced to wait more than thirty seconds before the screen lit back up again. This time is was a human, a man, not elderly, per se, but certainly older than Acheron. His skin was a dusky brown and his eyes showed a glint that Acheron couldn’t quite decode. Was that malice? Humor? “This is Governor Val,” he repeated now to this new person. “I understand you wanted to speak with me? Forgive me, I was expecting the commanding officer of the ship.”

  The other man laughed. “Oh, forgive us up here, Governor. No, I’m not the commander of the Spirit, but I am the commander of this mission.”

  “I see,” Val replied. “And what exactly is your mission here? And if you’ll forgive my bluntness, who are you exactly?”

  The man nodded. “Of course, what am I thinking? My name is Sebastian Chakrabarti, I’m a member of the administratory council in Seylonique and we’re here-“

  “Seylonique?” Acheron interrupted as relief and confusion flooded through him.

  Chakrabarti sighed. “Apparently I need to speak with my communications people about being more open when introducing ourselves. Yes, I got your message that you sent on with Captain Hogan on the FP tanker ship.”

  “You’re here… You brought a warship here…” Val stuttered. What the hell is happening?

  “I brought ships so that we could discuss a mutual defense pact,” the man replied. “I have no intention of imposing our will anywhere. You asked for our assistance and I’m here to see what we can work out.”

  “Wait,” Acheron said, slumping back in his chair, putting a hand to his head. His vision was just spinning right now. “You brought ships? Plural?”

  “I’ve brought five of them, Governor,” Chakrabarti answered. Then he shrugged. “Well, the Kara is here bringing the order of machine parts for that factory you’re building. But the rest of the… squadron… is here if we can hammer out some sort of agreement.”

  “And if we cannot?” Acheron asked suspiciously. “The warships remain to protect Seylonique interests?”

  Chakrabarti shook his head. “No, Governor. Absolutely not. We are not interested in bullying anyone or imposing our will on anyone. There is a pirate menace out there and we want to try and band some of the local systems together to try and stand against them.”

  “Stand against them?” Acheron replied. “We don’t have any warships. We have no way of defending ourselves.”

  “Not yet, Governor,” the other man replied. “Would you mind if I came down so we could talk without having to use the comm system?”

  It took him a long moment to answer. “Very well, Councilor. I’ll await your shuttle.”

  “I know this feels a bit intimidating,” Sebastian was saying, some time later. The two of them were in the Governor’s conference room, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and a cup of brandy in Val’s. “I want to assure you that if you give the word, the warships will depart this system and they won’t come back. Except to escort our merchant ships through the system but then they will leave.”

  “And I just need to roll over and let your ships run through this star system?” he asked bitterly. “Not that I can actually do anything about it if you decide to run your ships through here.”

  “I understand that the parts we brought over in the Kara were for a factory complex, is that right?”

  Acheron shrugged. “Not so much a complex as just a factory, but yes. Two of our corporations are looking to merge, they wanted to see about building some space ships.”

  “Space ships?”

  “Shuttles, I think is the proper term. After a conversation I had with Captain Hogan, the heads of those corporations decided that it would be best to get themselves a few of those shuttles and run the cargoes up and down from the bigger freighters, like the Grania Estelle or the Ma Mystere. Better to do it themselves, they reason, than have the bigger ships waste their time and fuel doing runs themselves. There’s talk about an orbital platform for cargo transfers, a warehouse or some such, I’m not really sure of the details for that. It’s still in the planning stages, nothing to get me really involved with yet. The smaller freighters, of course, could still land on the planet to deal with their cargoes, but it would make things simpler if the bigger ships would be able to handle their business in orbit.”

  Chakrabarti nodded, then sipped his coffee. “Seems like a good idea to me. And the shuttle service will make a tidy profit and you, as the government, can levy a tax. Win-win-win.” He tipped his head to the side for a moment. “Though I will admit, the more prosperous this system gets, the more of an inviting target it will be for the pirates out there.”

  “Getting a bit heavy handed with the incentives there, aren’t we, Councilor?” Acheron said dryly.

  “All right, I’ll admit, I was thinking a bit of avocado and stick there and I apologize. But I am serious about this.”

  “So what do you want from Heb?” Acheron asked, setting down his glass. “What are you expecting in exchange for this… protection?” He hated using that word.

  Chakrabarti set his own cup down on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on knees. “What you can spare, and not even close to that. We want to make a… coalition of systems, if you will. Heb and Seylonique and Ulla-tran if we can swing it.”

  “Ulla-tran as well?” Acheron said, leaning back his chair and tapping his finger against his lips. “You’ve spoken with them?”

  “We’ve got a signed trade agreement with them. It’s pretty light on the mutual defense part, but then Ulla-tran has their own Navy and defensive fleet,” the councilor admitted. “But we’d like for Heb to be a partner in all this. And we can’t do that if you fall under attack, can we?”

  Acheron watched the man, was trying with all his might to discern whether this offer was genuine. And he made a decision. In for a credit… “We’ve had pirates come here. Over the last six months.”

  Chakrabarti sat up straighter. “You have?”

  “Yes,” he said, daring the man from Seylonique to say anything. “We’ve been paying ‘protection’ from them as well.” His voice was bitter. “So either I pay them and they don’t attack us or I pay you and hope that your people can defend us from them. Either way, it seems, Heb pays.”

  The councilor looked speculative. “I had no idea, Governor. I’m sorry. I assure you, our offer is genuine. And for the moment, this is the most we have to offer.”

  “Four corvettes. Well, that’s better than what the pirates have sent our way, I’ll give you that.” The governor seemed to brighten a little. “They’ve only ever sent one of those and a smaller ship. A cutter, I think it’s called. And of course their cargo ships to pick up their protection payment.”

  “Well, Commander Dharvhan will do everything in her power to protect your citizens, Governor,” Chakrabarti assured him. “She’s very well trained and is highly motivated. We’ve had our own fair share of pirates in Seylonique as well, just a few months ago. A very serious attack, during which thankfully we were able to ride out and drive them off.”

  “Really?” Acheron said, hope tinging his voice.

  “Yes,” Chakrabarti replied. “And I want you to understand, Governor that we’re looking to create something. Something safe and strong.”

  “Empire building?”

  “I know it looks that way, but I’m concerned more about forming a… I don’t know, a bulwark against the pirates. They’ve been sighted and have taken action in all three systems, including yours in the last couple of years, and I’m concerned about further incursions.”

  Acheron let out a long breath. “Further incursions. We just had one a few week
s ago. One of their cutters came through here, hit up one of the local bars and continued on. I’m told that they were on a course that might take them to Bimawae.”

  He nodded, filing away that information for later. “I understand.”

  “I almost ordered a team to move in and take the ship when it was on the ground,” Acheron admitted. “But then I realized that even if we took the ship, it was only a short reprieve. The warlord would realize in short order what happened to his wayward ship and send a strike force to punish us for it.”

  “I certainly don’t want to bring any problems to your door, Governor,” Sebastian said. “What we’re looking for here is a way to protect ourselves and by extention our neighbors and potential trading partners. And that’s what we’re looking for here, another partner.”

  “I will consider it, Councilor,” Acheron said slowly. “I’ll need to discuss it with my cabinet and advisors, as well as the leaders of the other cities. I’m supposed to be the head spokesperson for this world, but I’m not the only voice. I would need to speak with them and get their opinion before any decisions of this nature can be made.”

  “Of course,” Chakrabarti said, waving his hands. “I’m a member of a council myself, so I know all about needing concensus. But if I might be so bold, may I ask your thoughts about the idea?”

  “You can ask, Councilor,” Acheron said sardonically, “But I’m not really under any obligation to respond. Oh, I know that I’m the one who requested military assistance to help defend this system and now I seem to be balking at the help being offered. But I’m just surprised at the speed of this response. Hell, the fact that you responded at all. I guess I’m just still trying to process it.” He took a sip from his brandy glass, either to buy time or to hide his face from the other man.

  “Well, Governor, perhaps it’s time I get back to the ship. It will give you time to speak with your fellows and come to a decision. There is no pressure here,” he said, standing. “Well, not a lot. I do want this agreement to go through but I don’t want to alienate you or your people in the process. And I promise you, that if you say that you don’t want us here, I will take all of our ships out of the system.” He pulled a datacard out of his pocket. “Here are the sensor logs for the battle in Seylonique. I know you asked about them before and I guessed you might want to see them. We’ll talk later, you have my comm codes. Good afternoon, Governor.”