“I do want to keep seeing you,” he said, rising and walking around the desk to stand in front of her.
“Good,” she said, the false smile replaced with a real one, though it barely seemed to quirk the corners of her lips. “Now kiss me you great idiot so I can leave you two to get reacquainted and I can get back to work.”
“Gladly,” he replied, gathering her up in his arms. He kissed her fiercely and she returned his kiss with a passion of her own.
The door chime sounded. They sighed collectively and stepped apart. “Duty calls,” Gants said, sounding grumpy.
Eretria liked that. “Back to work, Colonel. Let me know if there are any problems.” With that, she went to the hatch and opened it. A young lieutenant was standing on the other side, clutching a datapad. He immediately stepped aside to allow her to pass him and Eretria walked out of the ready room without a look back.
“All stations report ready for launch, Colonel,” Paxton reported a while later from his own station.
“Thank you, Commander,” Gants said formally, struggling to contain his own excitement. “Helm, take us out of the docking slip. Ahead: half thrusters.”
The helmsman acknowledged and a moment later, sensors indicated the large warship was easing out of the metal box that was the construction slip. The ship moved ponderously, slowly, nothing like the speeds and massive acceleration she was capable of using her main propulsion units. A pair of shuttles actually accelerated past the Leytonstone, in a hurry to get out of the bay, but instead of getting annoyed by the reckless flyers, Gants just smiled. Let them have their fun. When push comes to shove, Leytonstone will have the last laugh.
Ten minutes later, the helmsman spoke up. “We’ve cleared the local traffic area, sir.”
“I’ve got clearance from shipyard traffic control,” the comms officer reported.
“All right, helm, let’s see what she’s got. Navigation, plot a course to take us to geosync orbit over Sundowner Atrium.” He was referring to a well-known building on the habitable world, which everyone also called Seylonique, located in the city of Dorsey Run.
“Aye, sir.”
“Helm, bring us to eighty percent acceleration on the propulsion. Once we’re two light minutes from the yards, push it up to full military power.” At a look from Paxton, he affected a look of complete innocence. “We need to see what she can do, XO.”
“Oh, of course, sir,” the commander replied, not even a hint of mirth on his features. “Girl’s been sitting on the sidelines for months. I’d say she’s eager to stretch her legs.”
“My thoughts exactly, XO,” the colonel said, indulging in a smile.
“Course plotted, Colonel.”
“Helm ready.”
“Engage engines,” Gants ordered. He pulled up the ship’s status feeds on displays around him, watching stress levels on the engines, the power grid, the cooling system; everything he could. He knew the engineers were watching everything like hawks and they’d sing out good and loud at the first sign of trouble.
“Continue on course,” he said, settling himself comfortably in the command seat. It was so very good being out in space again.
“Ms. Samair,” the plump councilor said in surprise, looking up from the wet bar on the side of the small office where he was pouring himself a large brandy. “What a pleasant surprise.”
Harmon Kly’s offices were surprisingly spartan compared to the Triarch’s. Even Councilor Hroth out at the Kutok mine was using a set of suites that were nicer than these. It didn’t fit with Tamara’s ideas of the man, he seemed like the greedy miser that would do anything for a credit and of course his personal offices here on the orbital would reflect the grandiose regard in which he obviously held himself. But such was not the case. Though a quick glance over at that bar quickly proved to Tamara that the councilor had very expensive taste in his liquor. That was no twelve-credit bottle of brandy he was pouring out.
“Councilor,” Tamara replied. She commed a quick message back to her guards, just behind her, telling them to stay outside. It was clear that the females of the group, Viktoriya especially, were not thrilled with this idea. Beau put on a dour expression, flattened his ears to his head and said nothing, while Calvin had his amused mask on his face. Tamara closed the door and turned back to the man.
“I have to say I was surprised to hear that you came aboard the orbital.” Kly took a sip of the drink, grunted in approval, then walked over to his desk and plopped himself in his chair. “And I have to say I was certainly just… flabbergasted that you made your way down to my humble offices.”
Tamara grimaced. “About that, Councilor. I have to say that these offices are a bit more humble than I would have expected. I expected that a member of the admin council-“
“Would have been skimming money off the taxpayer funds, out of project money, from the Navy, from maintenance funds for the orbital and then I should have a palace for an office? Perhaps the lower ten levels of the orbital for my own personal use?” he chuckled and took another sip.
Tamara shrugged, the grimace not really moving from her face. “That is what I rather expected, Councilor.”
“Bah!” he said, saluting her with his glass. “Skimming and corruption like that is for the weak. Oh, I’m not saying that you couldn’t do very well for yourself, but it’s a way of weakness. You’re not capable of making money the hard way, of exerting influence and power the hard way. Ha!” Kly snorted, then took another sip from his glass. “Mmm. That is very good.” He looked to her. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like some?”
“That’s certainly a different attitude, Councilor,” Tamara said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If I may say so. Seeing as how the last few times we’ve met, you’ve called me nothing less than a whore, a bitch, a damned nuisance.”
Kly shrugged. “And at the time, I meant every word of it.” He looked at the glass. “I can’t say I don’t think about that now. But that was before the Ulla-tran mission.”
“Before that mission?” she prompted. “All right, I’ll bite. Why did that mission turn me from the Whore-Bitch-Outsider into someone you’ll deign to talk to?”
The man looked up at her. He had an unpleasant look on his face, but she really couldn’t pinpoint what it was he was thinking. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to think that he looked unhappy because she was in the room, or that she was asking him such a personal question. She thought that he was going to change the subject but surprisingly, he didn’t. “You were the one who suggested the trip out to Ulla-tran,” Kly said grudgingly, his gaze defiant. “It’s a large step in a positive direction both for Seylonique and in making a permanent block of systems to stand as a… a bulwark.” He ground his teeth. “So… thank you.”
She nodded her head in acknowledgement. “You’re welcome. And I understand that you did a great deal of work on the trade agreement between our two nations.”
He toasted her with his drink. “So I’m sure you didn’t fly all the way here from the outer system to talk trade agreements and my decorating style for my office. I’ll admit I am a bit intrigued as to your business here.” Kly swirled his drink a bit. “It’s not as though you and I are known for our need for togetherness.”
Tamara smirked, walking forward and putting both hands on the back of one of the office chairs. “No, Councilor, we’re not, but I have a proposal for the government that I think you should seriously consider and I figured I should argue my case straight with the voice most likely to be my most ardent opponent.”
“Now I am intrigued.” He raised his eyebrows. “And in private, too, where you think I can’t cause a ruckus, rabble-rouse and get the proposal simply dismissed. Exactly how fiendish do you think I am?”
“I think you fight for projects and proposals you have a personal stake in, Councilor. You didn’t like what First Principles was doing to the businesses you’d so carefully nurtured over the years so you did what you could to try first to squash us, and later to shut us d
own completely.” Tamara tried very hard to remain relaxed, not to start shouting or reach out her hands and strangle the pig. She hadn’t forgotten that attack on her people, on the mine, all of the deaths caused. And despite the fact that the government investigation had stalled out, even stopped completely, Tamara knew. But Kly and Cresswell, the true architects of the attack seemed to have just wormed their way out of trouble. They were council members, and thus, virtually untouchable. Oh, she could pull out one of her guns and shoot the bastard dead right now. But then, of course, her life would be over. And she needed his help now. “You went a bit far using the Leytonstone and the merc company to try and shut First Principles down, but we’re past that now.” Her eyes were starting to burn and she forcibly shoved her emotions back into the box.
He scowled. “There’s not a shred of proof that I had anything to do with that tragedy.”
Tamara waved a hand. “Of course you didn’t,” she said, scorn dripping. “But I didn’t come here to threaten you or even poke at old wounds.”
“Then why are you here?” Kly demanded, getting angry.
“I came here to try and convince you to convince the council to give a large pile of credits to First Principles for a service we’ll render. And I’m sure you’re going to want what we have.”
Kly blinked, caught off guard by her blunt statement. He eyed her for a few seconds before speaking. “Wait, you want-“ He stopped, took a breath and tried again. “What service do you expect us to pay you to render, Samair?”
“I want to add to your Navy’s overall firepower,” she replied simply.
“Overall firepower…” he said slowly, his voice trailing off. He didn’t understand.
“Yes, Councilor.” Tamara fished a datacard out of her pocket and held it out to him.
He stared at her suspiciously for a second before taking the datacard. Kly set down the brandy glass and plugged the card into his terminal at his desk. A screen popped up and he squinted at the image that appeared. “A ship? It looks familiar.”
“It should. A ship just like that has been on the news feeds ever since the pirate attack here as well as in the Navy intel reports.”
He pursed his lips. “A pirate cruiser.”
“Correct.”
Kly looked to Tamara. “What about this cruiser?” He pointed to the display.
Tamara managed a small smile, but there was no humor in her eyes. “That is a light cruiser design modified from the pirate cruisers encountered by Grania Estelle, the Republic forces at Byra-Kae and finally by First Principles’ defense ships a few months ago in the outer system.”
“How did you get this?” Kly asked, looking back to the display.
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“It matters if you want me to convince the council to buy any.”
“Sent a ship to Byra-Kae a few months ago. They found a half-destroyed, derelict cruiser and managed to get a full set of technical specs. They brought it back to us. I had my engineers go over it and made some modifications, improving the raggedy bits. She’s a dangerous machine now.”
Kly zoomed in on the image, nodding his head slowly at what he saw. Tamara could tell that he liked that image and he was forcing himself to remain calm and uninterested. He turned back to her. “Why was this not turned over to the Navy? Or more importantly, to the government?” Kly’s tone was accusing.
Tamara sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming behind her right eye. “My ships discovered the information on their own, with no prompting, orders or contracts from either the Navy or the government. I’m under no obligation to turn over what is essentially proprietary information to you or anyone else.”
“Did you come here to flaunt your intelligence gathering ability, Samair? Because I don’t appreciate it.”
“No, Councilor, I came here to convince you to buy a few of those cruisers,” she said, keeping an iron fist around her temper. “I know the Leytonstone just got out of the yard and she’s going through a proper shakedown now, but she’s only one ship. Verrikoth has three cruisers that we know of, probably more by now.”
“I see.” The councilor’s gaze returned to the image for a moment longer before he looked back over to her. “You have a point. A good point. Very well. Leave this with me, Samair. I will talk with the council about it.”
She shrugged. “You can keep the data card. It only shows the rendering of the ship itself. There aren’t any specs on there.”
The plump man nodded slowly, reaching down and picking up the brandy glass again and downing a gulp. “We would need a more comprehensive presentation.”
“Of course. That’s understood.”
“Why haven’t you started building one already?” Then he nodded. “Ah, of course, the new regulations.”
“Yes, those,” Tamara said, keeping her face expressionless. “I can’t build one without a contract with the government for either the Navy or another agency. But the pirates will be back, Councilor, battlecruiser or no. You can count on that. And the more we have to fight them with…”
He leaned back in his chair a bit, then downed the rest of the brandy in one swallow. He gently set the glass down on the desktop blotter and tapped his fingers on the desk. “I will speak with the council. Thank you for stopping by and for bringing this to my attention.”
Tamara watched the councilor for a long moment before inclining her head to him. “Councilor, I thank you for your consideration.”
He gave a wave of one hand but she was already turning to leave. That went about as well as could be expected. For all his high-minded talk about doing things properly, I won’t be shocked if suddenly I’m ordered to turn over the plans for the ship. She mentally shrugged as she exited the office. I’ve got copies. Maybe the council will cough up the credits and contract First Principles to build one.
She stepped out of the office, closing the door behind her. The guards were waiting, and none of them looked all that happy, but they all brightened when she appeared. “Things go well ma’am?” Viktoriya asked.
Tamara shrugged. “Not really sure, Serzhant,” she admitted. “The councilor was willing to talk, which was a pleasant surprise. I was honestly expecting security to show up and have me escorted out.” She grimaced, running her hands through her hair before shaking her head. “He heard me out, which is more than I really expected.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the corridor.
The she-wolf grunted and all of the guards immediately melted into a phalanx formation around the principle, with Mister Katsopolis on one side and the Serzhant on the other. Beau took up the rear with Kiki leading the way. “Where are we going, Ma’am?” the sniper asked.
“Back to the hangar deck, Ms. Lamont,” Tamara replied. “I think we’re done here.”
“I’m confused, Ma’am,” the Severite said, looking to her human eyes as though he was smiling. “We flew all the way here from the shipyard just to have a five minute meeting and now we’re going all the way back?”
“You got a problem with that, Mister?” Viktoriya snarled.
The cat looked contrite. “No, Serzhant. Just seems like a waste of fuel is all.”
The serzhant glared at him for a few more meters as they continued walking, and he wisely didn’t say another word. She let the gaze hang for a few more seconds, and turned back to resume her visual sweeps of the corridor. Her ears and nose had never stopped doing their work.
Tamara was silent for a few moments as they continued down the corridor. They approached the lift, but she stopped a few meters short. Her head popped up. “Change of plan, Serzhant. We’re going to head down to the engineering and reactor levels.”
The others all exchanged glances, except for Kiki, who didn’t look back, but her ears folded flat to her head. Not Viktoriya, though. “Understood, Ma’am. You heard the lady.” They reached the lift. “Anyone in particular we’re going to see?”
“I think I’d like to see one of the engineers. I want to see how th
ings are going on the lower decks.”
Viktoriya commed a message to her principle instead of speaking. [Is it a good idea to be visiting the ‘lower decks’ as you put it immediately after meeting with one of the administratory council, Ma’am?]
[Probably not. But I have a friend on the orbital that First Principles does business with. I haven’t seen him in a few months and since I’m here anyway, why not see if he’s available for a chat?] Tamara gave a small smile.
[Anything in particular, Ma’am?]
[Just a chat, Viktoriya. Don’t get yourself all excited.]
The wolf just shook her head but didn’t reply. Tamara had the grace not to laugh. She pulled her hand communicator out of her pocket and flipped it open with her thumb. A quick burst transmissionfrom her implants and she pressed the transmit button. “Well, Miklos knows I’m here. Let’s see if he’s up for a little get together.” It didn’t take long for the burly engineer to respond to her message. “All right, let’s go.”
“Miklos!” Tamara said, entering the orbital chief engineer’s office.
“Tamara Samair,” the man said, getting up from his desk and coming over to her. He first shook the offered hand and then pulled her in for a huge bear hug. The guards (all but Katsopolis) all tensed and then relaxed when he released her. He glanced at all of them. “You’ve certainly grown in importance since the last time I saw you, Tamara. They certainly don’t seem to like me.”
“They’re not paid to like anyone, Miklos,” she replied. “Try not to take it personally.”
“So, what brings you here?”
Tamara flicked her eyes and her head to the side. “Had a meeting with one of the admin council members.”
“Ooh, be still my heart. Keeping lofty company.” The man put a hand to his chest, dramatically.
“Trying to sell a ship to the council,” she replied, chuckling. “I don’t know if they’re going to bite. The good councilor didn’t give me a warm feeling.”
The man squinted at her for a moment. “Councilor Kly?” She nodded. “I think we’ve pinpointed the problem right there, Tamara. From all accounts, that man doesn’t like you.”
A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 Page 60