“Where’s Moxie?”
“Tamara is out in her fighter,” Stella replied immediately.
“Doing a flyby of the big ship I hope?” Taja asked.
“Yes, Taja, in fact she is.”
“Get her on the horn, please,” the Captain ordered.
There was a pause, then a beep. “Em-One here, Grania Estelle. I’m not seeing a lot of activity here.” Tamara’s voice was calm. “Based on the size of the ship, I’d say it requires a crew of anywhere between two and three hundred. I’m only detecting life form readings enough for perhaps fifty people. It’s just a guess, but I’m only detecting very small clusters of life signs. Nowhere near enough for a full crew.”
“Moxie, are there enough people on board to bring the ship to fighting form?”
“I’d be very surprised if they could, Captain. I’d need a much more in depth survey of the ship to be sure, but I’d wager that’s just enough crew to act as caretakers.”
“Stella, any activity suggesting they are bringing up more crew?”
“No, Captain, not yet.”
“Moxie, what is your status?”
“I’m at seventy percent fuel, all systems normal.”
“Stay out there for now. Call in if you see anything.”
“Copy that.”
Stella nodded to indicate the channel was closed. “I’ll monitor for her transmissions.”
“What’s our status?” the Captain asked. “Do we have enough fuel to get to our next stop?”
“Do you still intend to go to Kazyanenko, Captain?” the AI responded.
He sighed. “I’d intended to stay here for a few weeks and give the crew some shore leave. I wanted to unload our holds of the building materials we have and make a profit here. Clearly, it seems that isn’t going to happen.” He set his face in determined lines. “Stella, make sure the ship is ready to depart. I’m going to the bridge.”
The walk to the bridge took only a few moments. Once there, he turned to the communications station. Serinda was off duty, but a young hak’ruk female was at the console. The hak’ruk was an insectoid race, though completely unrelated to the zheen, born on a very hot, desert world. Unlike the zheen, whose coloring tended to be in the purple and violet range, the hak’ruk were almost universally black. Kutok, the young female who sat at the controls, was a competent communicator who at that moment was monitoring local communications. Like the rest of the crew, she wore a ship suit, though it was cut to fit her smaller frame, for she only stood little over a meter in height and with six legs, though her front two were actually considered arms. Her carapace was a glossy black color and she made sure to keep her talons and pincers well-polished and groomed. She was a proper lady, though quickly offended by comparisons to the zheen, or if anyone was déclassé enough to call her a ‘bug’. Her two front true hands had four fingers, each finger topped with a wickedly sharp talon. Very few were brave enough to try and mock this lady.
The newly installed communications array made her job much easier than it had in years past, which Kutok appreciated. She looked up at the Captain with her segmented eyes as he entered the bridge. “Captain,” she said in greeting, her voice coming out like a purr.
“What do you have for me, Kutok?” he asked without preamble.
“The trade minister’s shuttle has been sending transmissions to the main complex on the surface,” she replied. “The calls are encrypted but I haven’t attempted to break the cipher.”
“Can you?”
She nodded. “Of course, Captain. It will take a few minutes, but I will do so.”
“I know you’ve been recording the calls since he left the ship.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Good. Once you’ve broken the encryption, go back and find out what he’s been saying since the first transmission after he left.”
Kutok nodded. “Just a few moments, please Captain.”
The Captain nodded and sat down in his chair. He knew better than to try and rush her. She moved at her own pace, though he was glad to see that it was a fast one.
He called down to the engineering spaces. “Quesh, talk to me. We might have some trouble in a little bit. The locals are threatening to come after us with their cruiser.”
There was a sigh. “Captain, you’re killing me. We’ve been working on the rail guns, but they are not ready. We also have to prep the hard points on the hull to install them and those are nowhere near ready. I do have two more shield nodes being installed right now by Ka’Xarian and his crews.”
“That’s some good news then.”
“Yes, sir, Captain, a small amount of good, I think.”
“How long are they going to be out there?” the Captain asked. “We might need to get out of this system quick if the cruiser starts powering up.”
“Can’t you talk to them, Captain?” the Parkani replied. “Isn’t that what you deck division people do? We’re a cargo ship, by the stars, not a combat vessel.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I know, Quesh. Believe me, I know. How are the engines? Can we run away if it comes to that?”
Another sigh. “If we need to, Captain, yes, my engines will make this big girl run. But I’m going to want to do some maintenance on them before too long.”
“Are they damaged?” he asked, a tinge of worry in his voice.
“Relax, Captain. Just normal wear and tear. We’re just trying to keep up on the maintenance this time around. I’m not letting my crews slip. I’d like to keep these engines for years to come, not have to completely rebuild them in six months.”
“I’ll drink to that,” the Captain agreed. “Far less expensive, I think.”
“Don’t worry, Captain. The Grania Estelle is fully at your command if you need her.”
“That’s good to know, Quesh. Hopefully this is all just academic. I’m really hoping the locals will see reason and we can get down to business.” He cut the connection. Looking over at the hak’ruk, he saw she was still busy with her console. To give himself something to do, he checked the status of the various systems on his display. Fuel was actually good. Since they were now running the reactor on helium 3 instead of seawater or hydrogen, the power output was much higher than he was used to and, it seemed, much more fuel efficient. Just before the jump after the rebuild of the main reactor, the fuel tanks were about 90 percent full. After the trip through hyperspace, they were now at 72 percent. They were still fine tuning things and Quesh had indicated he could probably get better efficiency on the next jump.
“Captain, I have it,” Kutok said into the silence of the bridge.
He blinked, startled. “Good. What are they saying?”
Her mouth pincers twitched, the equivalent of a snort. “You’re going to want to hear this.” She pressed a control. “It’s audio only.”
“This is Steffan. The freighter jocks are playing hardball. They’re completely unwilling to listen to reason.”
“Do they have the shipment or not, Steffan?”
“Oh, they have it. Their cargo wench showed it to me and I checked the purity. It’s exactly what we need for the Ganges engines. In fact, the cargo labels are from Folston. It’s our shipment all right.”
“So what’s the problem? They won’t give up the shipment?”
“They’re not sticking to the original contract. They apparently renegotiated with Jundlan at Folston and brokered a new deal.”
“Okay, they wouldn’t be the first to try that nonsense.”
“No, they wouldn’t. But, they are determined that they are not going to pay the penalty. In fact, they’re trying to gouge us for even more credits than we even started with.”
“So what are they doing?”
“They’re saying they’re going to leave. They’re cancelling any leave and said they were just going to keep the shipment for themselves.”
“What? The hell they are! Those are our materials. We need that to get the Ganges up and running! Don’t they understand what they’re d
oing to our schedules?”
“They don’t care, Yorik. They’re all about the money. They’re just going to steal our materials and waltz off to another world and resell them.”
“Okay that’s a lie.” The Captain glared irritably at the display.
“He’s completely distorting the facts, Captain,” Kutok said. “We weren’t trying to gouge anyone.”
“I’m thinking that our good friend Steffan was expecting to get that shipment for a song. And when Taja decided to actually make him stick to our contract with Folston, he decided to play hardball.”
“So where does that leave us, Captain?”
He sat and thought about it for a moment. “Do they say anything about the Ganges?”
Kutok’s pincers twitched and she pressed a few more controls. The Captain watched her, always impressed that her very sharp fingertips didn’t pierce the buttons she was pressing. The transmission resumed.
“So what are we going to do about it?” Yorik asked.
“Can we get the Ganges active? I mean, I suppose we could try and board them, but if we’ve got the cruiser there, we could bring them to their knees and just take the shipment.”
It seemed that Yorik was considering this idea. “I’ll talk with Commander Tyler, see what he says.”
“How long will it take to get the Ganges ready and launched?” Steffan asked.
“That’s a question for Tyler. I can’t imagine it would be any less than a few hours though. What about the freighter? Are they powering up to leave?”
“Grania Estelle and her incompetent crew have been here before, Yorik. They pretend that they’re hard traders and hard chargers, but their ship is a wreck. They’re not going anywhere soon.”
“Then why waste time with the Ganges? Just send a flight of Centurion fighters up there and get this done. We’ve been waiting for almost nine months for the Ganges to be completed. I’m sick of listening to Tiberius from Imogen whining about schedules and timeframes. I want to give him his ship and get him off my back.”
The Captain paled a little. “Centurion fighters? That doesn’t sound good.”
“No it doesn’t,” Kutok agreed. “We might want to get Commander Samair in on this.”
The Captain eyed her. “She’s not a Commander anymore, Kutok.”
“She never resigned from the Republic military, Captain, but I take your point,” she conceded. “But my point still stands.”
“Right. Get her on the line.” The hak’ruk pressed a few controls. She nodded to the Captain.
“Grania Estelle to Em-One, come in.”
“Em-One here, Captain,” the pilot/engineer replied. “Completing my second pass now. I’m still not picking up any signs that the Ganges is powering up.”
“We intercepted a transmission from our merchant friend and the surface. It sounds like they’re starting the hardball game.”
“Great. I’m game,” Tamara replied in deadly earnest. “I have been itching to cut my baby here loose.”
He snorted. “I’m sure you have. But the locals decided they’re not going to wait for the cruiser to be ready for us and said something about sending a flight of their Centurion fighters to pay us a visit.”
“Any idea on how many fighters constitute a ‘flight’?”
“No, but I would imagine somewhere between four and six.”
Stella appeared on the bridge holo projector. “I’ve used the ship’s sensors, Captain, and I’ve found their launching hangar. I’m detecting thirty-six single-pilot ships there. Unknown ship configuration.”
“I imagine those are our fighters,” the Captain commented.
“You’re most likely correct, Captain,” Stella agreed, “Seeing as how there is increased activity in that area now. I’m reading a cluster of life form readings in that area. Possibly a ground crew and pilots.” The ship’s upgraded bow sensors could see down from orbit, as clear as a satellite picture, able to pick out details as small as a grain of sand. Unfortunately, as the ship was in orbit, they could only look straight down, but that was fine for their purposes now. They could see a dozen people rushing from ground cars into the hangars which, sadly, were covered. But the sensors could detect clusters of life forms in six areas of the hangar, grouped in distinct sections.
“Looks like it could be as many as six, Moxie.”
“I welcome all challengers,” she said viciously.
“You got bloodthirsty all of a sudden, Moxie,” he commented dryly.
“I just got signed onto a ship, Captain,” she replied. “I just helped get her back down to her fighting weight again. Do you honestly think I’m going to let these swaggering braggarts tear her apart again?”
“You’d better not,” he said gruffly. “You and I would have a stern chat after that.”
She laughed. “I think it might be a good idea to bring your shields up and get your weapons online.”
“We’ve only got those laser cannons,” he protested.
“Well, you can try and mount some defense,” she fired back, “or you can sit there and wait to die. Because while I might, and I stress might be able to handle six of them, are you really going to just stand back and do nothing? Do nothing on the slim hope that one could best six?”
He grimaced. “Well, when you put it that way. You make a good argument. Well, I need you to get your ass back over here in case they decide to come up.”
“Please try and talk to them, Captain. I really don’t want to murder some kids who are just doing their jobs.”
“All right, stay on channel two,” he told her. Kutok muted the bridge conversations. “See if you can contact our good friend Steffan. I want to try and head this off before someone dies.”
“Yes, Captain,” she answered, working her controls. A moment later, “I have the commerce minister on the line. Audio only.”
“Put me on.” She nodded. “This is Captain Vincent Eamonn on the Grania Estelle.”
Steffan answered immediately. “Ah, Captain. Good. You’ve made a decision? You’ve decided to see sense?”
“I’m trying to find some sense here,” he replied. “My cargo specialist is telling me that the negotiations ended. What’s the story here?” He could see that Kutok was trying to get his attention.
“Captain, I’ve muted it. He’s transmitting a second signal on the same encryption as before. He’s probably talking to the people on the surface.”
“Record it for later. Put me back on.” She nodded.
“The story is, Captain,” Steffan replied, sounding as though he was speaking with his nose raised in the air, “is that your specialist is trying to cheat the hard-working people of Hecate.”
“Well I can’t believe she would do that,” he said, trying to sound completely innocent and confused. Then he rolled his eyes. “Taja is normally so reliable.”
“You will need to speak with your staff, Captain,” Steffan told him. “Perhaps you and I can get this situation straightened out.”
“I would like that very much,” he answered, truthfully. Kutok sent a message to his display, not saying a word.
He is in communication with the surface, the same individual as before. Yorik is telling him to keep you talking while he gets the fighters prepped. It is my opinion that neither man is interested in dealing with us. They intend to attack.
Eamonn was forced to agree. “So what’s this I hear about a different deal? I mean, we’re both businessmen. Let’s get this hammered out.” He entered a few commands on his display, telling George to get to the bridge and to get the laser cannons online.
“I’ve spoken with the consortium, Captain. I’m afraid they are not willing to budge on this,” Steffan went on. “They are saying they will not alter the original agreement. And since the shipment is almost nine months late, they will only pay out under those terms.”
“Come now, Steffan,” the Captain replied. “We’re both reasonable men. My ship picked up the shipment after the original transporters abandoned it. S
urely you and I could work something out. I will admit that the original transporter screwed your client over and I can also understand a reduced payment. But the full penalty? That’s just unreasonable.”
Steffan sighed. “Of course I understand, Captain. And I tend to agree, the full penalty is unreasonable. But I’ve spoken with the consortium and they refuse to budge on this. I can try and talk with them again. I mean you did come all this way and you do have the shipment. Perhaps they might be willing to negotiate the price.”
“I’d like to go with you, if at all possible, Minister,” the Captain put in. “Maybe if they see me in person showing them some respect, they might be willing to work with me.”
“I suppose that might work. Let me speak with them first and see if we can set up a conference.” Steffan sounded as though he was happy and willing to set this up.
Communications from the surface indicate that the fighters are ready for launch. We only have a few minutes before they leave the surface. He’s only stringing you along.
Great, he thought. He was about to speak, but Kutok sent another message.
Tamara Samair indicates that the Ganges is beginning power up procedures. George confirms the readings. She is requesting instructions.
It never rains, but it pours. “I understood that the consortium was threatening to use their cruiser to attack my ship,” he said, sounding slightly worried. “I see that the ship is beginning to power up. This is causing me some concern.”
“Oh, it’s all bluster!” the man protested. “The consortium knows that if they started shooting customers over any sort of contract disputes, there wouldn’t be any more customers.”
“Then why is the Ganges showing increased power activity?”
“I’ve been told it’s just routine diagnostics.”
The Captain imagined that Steffan was sweating. If Grania Estelle broke orbit now and accelerated for the hyper limit, it was possible that the freighter might get far enough from the planet that the fighters might not dare follow due to fuel constraints. And if that was the case, he (and by extension the consortium) might not get the shipment needed for the cruiser. He needed to keep the Captain talking long enough for the fighters to get in range.
Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 Page 34
