by Jim Rudnick
The Lady St. August bowed her head, said softly, "yes," and then looked up.
"I will do the tasks assigned to me, Baroness. You should have no doubts about that, Ma’am," she said and then reached for the console switch.
"I have no doubts, Lady ... that's what backups are for ..." the Baroness added as her voice faded off and the screen went black.
One captain whose good looks were regardless as he was the drunk of the RIM Navy, coupled with the Barony destroyer captain who was a bitch, teamed up with an Adept who was known to be against her Issian background, and lastly the aliens themselves to try to negotiate with too. Not more than she could handle, as long as she was in charge. “I am in charge,” she said to herself as she rose to go and get dressed for the gym down a few decks. She remembered that she'd have to speak to Gillian too about this. She wanted her own Adept at her side throughout this whole process. At least there'd be one she could count on.
#
"Sir," Lieutenant Sutherland said from the helm, "the XO is having some—uh—some issues, I believe, with what these new modifications are going to entail, Sir. He's requested that you come down to Cargo Bay S-20 on Deck Seventeen, Sir," he finished off.
Tanner sipped at the double-double in his hand and cocked an eyebrow at his helm officer on the bridge of the Marwick.
"Any idea what the issue is?" he asked for more clarity.
"Sir, no, Sir—no mention other than he wants you to go down to that bay, Sir."
Tanner nodded and gave the conn to his helm officer and clicked for the lift down thirteen decks. Exiting the lift, he went counter-clockwise toward the S-20 designated bay but was stopped by huge crates that filled the passageway before him. There was no way around them, so he retraced his steps clockwise and then all the way around three-quarters of the ship to the hubbub of activity at the bay doorway. Once again, he found his way blocked but this time with his XO who was arguing with three port engineers.
"Lieutenant Commander, what's up?" he said as he took another sip of his coffee and was surprised to note that the argument didn't diminish in volume nor stop.
"Sir ... wait, please ... I said, NO, damn it, Chief Engineer, you will not be bringing that equipment onboard," his XO said forcefully and then turned to face his captain. As he was about to start to speak, the Chief Engineer interrupted him.
"Captain Scott, I am simply following my orders, Sir," he said and grabbed the sheaf of papers out of the XO's hands and thrust them at Tanner.
Tanner glanced at them as if they mattered and nodded to his XO.
"Craig, our hands are tied on this one. The admiral wants what the admiral wants, and that's the end of it. Go ahead with the supplies and items you need to load into the cargo bay, Chief." He handed the papers back to the engineer.
"Sir, but Sir, they are trying to install a complete new lab of some sort into the bay—complete with some kind of 'souped-up' robo-doc or some such monstrosity—and then they want new power lines run too. Sir, it's more than we should allow—"
Tanner held up his hand to stop his XO.
"Never mind, Craig, sign off and that's it. Admiralty orders. End of discussion," He turned back toward the lift and ignored the “but Sirs” from his XO and decided this was definitely going to make him stop up on Deck Twenty-nine at his quarters to “freshen up” his coffee.
Double, I think, for a double-double would do nicely, he thought as he waited for the lift and realized why the admiral would want all that fancy medical lab supplies and items was something not to worry about. Wait until the XO found out that there'd be more than fifty new white-coated personnel added to the ship's roster, and he grinned.
CHAPTER SIX
The incoming EYES ONLY had ended only minutes ago, but Politico Vetochkin was still frozen in front of the console in his quarters. He couldn't think and wrap his head around the latest news about the Ikarian virus nor what that now meant with the Premier's screamed commands still echoing in his head.
“Do not allow the Barony to succeed. Do not lose the chance to get the aliens to Novertag and the Yassuk sub-continent. Do not lose the chance to get the virus for the Secretariat. Do not lose,” the Premier had screamed at him over and over, spittle flying off his lips as he yelled at him. He got the message.
But how could he manage that? The Barony was already in the catbird seat, as they were broaching to turn over their planet, Throth, to the aliens for no charge. Except it now appeared that would mean that the Barony would be the ones in charge of the virus—and that wasn't allowed to happen.
He shook his head, turned to the view-port on the outer bulkhead wall, and stared out at the alien ship. Beside him lay the frigate the Bunker Hill, and he knew the Sterling was on her way back and only thirteen days out. As well, he'd learned that the Marwick was on its way back. That would be more trouble too, as their captain was a real loose cannon, he thought.
I have a mission and not the firepower to get it done. I have a mission and yet not a more logical rationale to sell the aliens. I have a mission and it will fail.
The fact that his logic was both so basic and yet true didn't escape his consciousness either, and he knew he had less than thirty days until all the players would be back here off Novertag to make their pitches to the aliens. One month to come up with a plan.
The Premier wanted him to get the aliens to take Novertag as their home. Anything else was failure, that he did know ... but how to engineer that mission to succeed at this point he didn't know. Failure filled his brain.
I wonder, he suddenly thought, how cold it was where they'd half-bury my body if I fail ... probably have to build a fire on the frozen taiga first to thaw the ground enough to dig that grave—wherever that might be on Novertag.
He shook that off and thought instead of somehow successfully getting the aliens to accept their offer and how he'd decorate his new office when he took his seat on the Security Council—the youngest ever! Or the youngest corpse lying in the frozen north ...
#
"Provost Marshall, are you doubly sure that the security for the meeting will be both secure and yet still noble looking," the Lady St. August said to the officer standing at her hip, as she turned to him in the large conference room on Deck Nine.
The Sterling's Provost Marshall checked once more before he answered. Ahead of them, the rectangular table was properly set with the chairs for the attendees. Each place setting had its desk pads and writing implements laid out and ready for use. Each place setting also had a complete translation console microphone and monitor for closed captioning too. Each chair was properly placed and in the exact same position and height.
Around the table were placed occasional yet exactly similar refreshment stations of water, juices, and hot beverages. It wasn't known what the Ikarians might want, hence the stewards who were standing at their serving station against the far wall ready to spring into action should anyone look for anything else not found.
At the door behind the Marshall stood a presentation guard of sixteen EliteGuards, their china-blue boots sparkling with extra heavy wax and their midnight black uniforms absolutely spotless and perfectly pressed. Each of the EliteGuards was a clone of each other, all taller than six feet in height, all brown-eyed young men with blond hair, and each squad of four had been assigned one side of the table to stand behind as an honor guard.
"Yes, Ma’am, I believe we're properly setup and ready. With your permission, Ma’am, I'd like to man the door once it's closed myself—I'm not expecting any troubles, but I'd like to be the one there for insurance. Ma’am?" he finished off and spun to face her at attention.
Helena nodded to him to indicate that she concurred with his assessment and then put a hand on his arm.
"Marshall, please do try to remember that at this meeting I'm going to be the one to welcome these aliens into the Barony ... and you may hear things that you feel or know might not be—well—correct. That's how diplomacy works. I would expect no indication of that—the
stewards know more on this ship than I do. I trust their discretion, and I will trust in your own as well. Understood?" she said, as she squeezed his arm. He nodded his response. He understood and thensome.
"Fine, Marshall, have the chief steward see me in my quarters in about fifteen minutes, and then seal the room till ’til we all arrive. And remember, we will become the home realm of these aliens," she said.
Moments later, she was stopped in the corridor as she made the walk back toward the lift up to her quarters on Deck Twenty-nine. The steward who stopped her did so with down-turned eyes.
"Ma’am, sorry ... but I was told to come find you by your XO—it appears that there are some problems with the attendee list, Ma’am," the chief steward said and tried to smile a bit to soften the blow.
"Merde," Helena said, waited the few seconds more to enter the now arriving lift, pressed the “B” for the Bridge all the way up on Deck Thirty, and wondered what could be wrong now. She had been very, very explicit in her Council-sanctioned attendee invitations to the upcoming negotiation meeting. The whole room was now set. She cursed one more time under her breath but entered the bridge moments later with a smile on her face.
"Captain ... or rather, XO, is there a problem?" she said as she moved across the floor and took her own seat to the left of the Comm. She didn't look up at him for almost a minute to remind him that as a Royal, one waited on her attention and she was booting up her tablet. She smiled at him then, and Lieutenant Richmond who'd been waiting spoke quietly.
"Ma’am, sorry, but we've received a notice from the Novertag contingent for the meeting later today that they wish to add one more person. Ma’am,” he said and then readied for the question.
"And whom do they wish to ask us for that extra seat at the table, Lieutenant?" she said as she toyed with the tablet and used a nail to click on a button or two. But she was focused on his answer that was for sure.
"Ma’am, they have asked if the Premier—if Commissar Leonid Sigalov himself—can be seated at the table to take part in the discussions, Ma’am ..." he trailed off, wishing he didn’t have to make this request.
She nodded but held out her hand indicating that she had no answer yet as she seethed inside. The gall of the Novertagians trying to horn into the pitch she had to make. Yes, they too were pitching, but surely Throth could trump some little sub-continent on Novertag. So why would the Novertagians be upping their game by having the Premier of the Secretariat attend to pitch their offer himself?
But it didn't matter. She had the best offer, a whole world for the asking.
She nodded again
"Ask them if the Premier needs anything special, refreshment-wise, as yes, we'd love to have him attend our meeting later today," she said and smiled once again at the XO. Let's see just what kind of game they had ...
Two hours later, she walked up to the large conference room on Deck Nine and watched as her EliteGuards took up their stations on either side of the entrance to the room. They looked spotless, and the Barony pomp and ceremony were there for the asking.
Moments later, the Premier of Novertag appeared followed by the Drozir's Political Officer and their captain too. They spent no time looking around as they were well versed with the layout of a frigate and made their way hurriedly to the Lady St. August who stood in the doorway.
"My Lady," the Premier said conversationally, "so nice for you to be able to accommodate me at this late moment." He held out his hand to take her own. He squeezed it briefly and then dropped it. There was no love lost tween the Novertagian realm and the Barony, and Helena knew it as well as he did.
"Not a problem at all, Mr. Premier ... we have sat your whole delegation on the side of the table opposite the —where you'll find your place-cards," she said and half-turned to point across the room.
As soon as she turned back and they had walked by, Captain Tanner Scott showed up out of the lift at the far end of the corridor. He marched down the aisle with his XO in tow. He simply stopped, nodded to her, then walked around her to enter the room, and said his hellos to the Novertagians already within.
At her left-hand side, the Provost Marshall started, but her hand held him back. No sense, she thought, in starting something this close to the negotiations.
As the lift door opened, she took a deep breath and put a big winning smile on her face as she waited the few moments to greet the Ikarian delegation.
As they walked down the corridor, she noted that Sachem Hassun led the way, and she knew he was the one that she would be making the offer to Sachem Ahanu, the Epsilon Row band leader, alongside Sachem Nadie, the Tribe Shaman, and one of the lesser ones, the younger one named Nibin followed Sachem Hassun. Four Ikarians to decide the fate of 10,000, she thought. The offer they were about to receive would be everything they wanted. And more ... She stepped forward to greet them.
"Sachem Hassun and party, so very nice to have you here on board the Sterling," she said and held out her hand.
The leader of the Ikarian entourage overlooked it, and instead he gave the Ikarian sign of respect, the back of his right hand held for a few seconds against his forehead, as he partly bowed to her.
"And for us, Lady, we too are so happy to have been asked to visit with you and to hear what you think we should do—this is one beautiful ship, Lady," he said and again half-bowed to her.
As she took his arm to lead him to his own seat, she nodded and tried to make small talk about the Sterling until she had him placed at the seat of honor on the right-hand side of the table. And as they all got arranged and settled, she and Captain Flannery, the Sterling's captain finally took their own seats last on the left-hand side of the table.
She looked to her left at the Premier and then to her right to the captain that she hated. For a second, she wondered if he was drunk right now but shrugged that off and then faced the Ikarians directly across from her and smiled.
"Sachem, we hope that your travels here were without incident and that the tour earlier of our frigate, the Sterling, was of interest?" she said and looked at the man across from her. We make an interesting duo, she thought, my blonde, long hair, sky blue eyes, and pert nose with his coal black hair, strong nose, and those piercing blue eyes. Not alike at all, yet somehow meant to be here at this table.
"Your technology, we think, is beyond what we know, that is for sure, Lady, but more than that, your ship itself is one beautiful craft ... a fancy craft ... and yes, we do thank you for the full tour earlier," he said. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the political officer off the Drozir drumming his fingers on the table. This obvious ploy to get the Ikarians feeling obligated to her had worked, but it hadn't been missed by the Novertagians.
"Yes, thank you, Sachem," she said, then turned to the Novertag delegation, and was about to introduce the Premier when that captain to her right spoke up loudly.
"If it pleases the Lady St. August, the meeting today has a firm agenda, Ma’am, and as the official RIM Navy ranking officer at the table, we will be imposing that as of now. Ma’am, on orders of the Confederacy Council," he said and barely nodded to her but looked down at the paper in front of him.
"I believe, Captain," that you'll find the exact same agenda on all of our desk pads, Captain, and yes, the first order of business is for the Novertagians to present their offer to the Ikarians. Which is where we are right now, Captain ... so anything else to offer, Sir?" she said quite dryly.
Tanner nodded to her, dipped his head in agreement, and then leaned back to listen to the Premier of Novertag.
The Premier did not speak, but instead gestured to the Drozir's political officer, Commissar Anatoly Vetochkin, to proceed, which he did with a big smile to the Ikarians first.
"We know what the stated wishes are of your people, Sachem. We understand what you wish, and we will be more honest than anyone around this table has been yet with you—you will not find a suitable world between here and the edge of the RIM—you are destined to leave the galaxy, Sachem ..." he
said quietly, his voice low.
All of the Ikarians at the table leaned backward in shock, and the youngest named Nibin gasped a little but quickly stifled that outburst at this stunning new news to their search for a new home world.
Sachem Hassun nodded after a moment and then spoke.
"Thank you for that honesty, and as you know, this is the first that anyone has said to us that our quest for a new home world cannot be met within the galaxy. We understood that this might happen, hence our knowledge that our quest may well include and now appears to mean—that we will leave this galaxy," he said and looked over at Captain Scott as if to wonder why he had not been told this yet.
"But, what we can offer is this, Sachem ... if you were to accept our offer to come to our own world, Novertag, located less than seven years away, we will give to you a complete continent for the Ikarians to settle on. This continent is thousands of miles of rivers and valleys and mountains and seacoasts and game and not a single sentient being. Game of all types, with plains and steppes and canyons and mesas—much the same we understand as your own planet was once, long, long ago."
He looked directly at the Sachem to his left and nodded.
"And yes, while we do understand that this planet is our own home world, what that means is that as our own newest citizens, you would be granted full rights and privileges of all citizens. This could be your own new home, and as it is so close, no one on the Keshowse now who is awake would need to go back and risk cryonic sleep again. You'd never challenge the odds of a bad Sleeper tank malfunction—you will live on your new world very, very soon ... as the elders who completed the quest of the Ikarians for a new home," he finished off, his voice persuasive and forceful. Beside him, his Premier nodded and said, “hear, hear.” Even the reserved Drozir captain looked like he too was in full agreement.
