Ambassador Saladin received a hand-written note. He and Sondia and Talbot discussed the contents of the note for a few moments before the Ambassador called for everyone's attention.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have news."
The room became silent in expectation.
"The Sheik of Barsoom claimed earlier today that he was the long lost Prince Merrikh of Jasmine."
After a shocked silence, the room broke out into a storm of conflicting exclamations and arguments.
"I wondered about that?"
"The Prince of Jasmine was alive?"
The Ambassador let the bedlam go on for several minutes before calling for order.
"There is more. Less than an hour later he was dead, assassinated by one of his own allies."
More loud discussion ensued. Again the Ambassador allowed it to run its course for several minutes before calling for order.
"I am very sorry but I do not have any details beyond these. However I do have some more news. Some very good news. The Scrapyard Strike force has managed to defeat the Sheik's forces and has regained control of the Nexus Station. There is still some mopping up to do but...the Istanbul will be heading back to the Santana Nexus within the hour. We can all go home!"
This announcement was greeted by loud and boisterous cheering that lasted for a good five minutes.
"Some problems remain," said the Ambassador, after calm had been restored, "There is still a revolution going on out in many parts of the Quadrant and there are enemy forces scattered everywhere. The Federation and the Islamic Alliance will be making a sweep through the Quadrant to locate and eliminate these pockets of resistance."
"We would still advise you all to be extremely careful," said Sondia, "There were defectors from all of your governments and you may not know who you can trust. Do I need to remind you that there was an attempt on my life right here on this very ship? Many of the late Sheik's people are fanatics and they will not go down without a fight."
"I'll take my chances," said one of the diplomats.
"Yes, we have been kept here for way to long!" commented another
"We could not guarantee your safety," said the Ambassador, "We must continue to be very careful as this ship is still considered to be target."
In the midst of this discussion, Dr. Frank C. Talbot stood up.
"Gentlemen and Ladies," said Talbot. "If I could have a moment of your time."
Talbot hadn't spoken very much at any of the previous meetings and the group, surprisingly, quieted down so they could hear the old engineer and philosopher speak.
"Most of you know who I am," he began, several in the audience nodded their heads in affirmation, others looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Some of you have come to know me through the discussions we've had." He paused for a few seconds to make sure that everyone was listening. "I wish to make a plea. I want to beg all of you to consider our actions over the next day or two. The situation in our Quadrant has taken an unexpected turn. As you have just learned, the man who had been calling himself 'The Sheik of Barsoom' actually was the long lost Prince Merrikh, heir to the old throne of Jasmine."
That announcement was greeted by a more few comments.
Talbot let the voices die down before he continued, "What the Sheik or the Prince has begun out here in this corner of Human space is nothing less than an attempt to reboot the Succession War! Is there a soul in this room that believes this is the best way forward for our Quadrant? All of our governments have been operating with several basic principles. One of these is the Freedom of religion. All are free to choose how they will worship. Another principle is that of representational government. All citizens have a vote in how they shall be governed. These people want to overturn all of that! They wish to restore the Monarchy and all of the oppression and corruption and inequality that inevitably results. Religions will be tolerated but only if they do their part to perpetuate the Monarchy."
He looked over his audience. All were listening, some appeared as though they were coming to a realization, others still looked doubtful.
"So I ask you; is this what you want for yourself and the people you represent? We, those of us in this assembly, have an opportunity to make a statement. A unified voice from this group of distinguished leaders will go a long way towards calming fears and restoring order in our Quadrant. But we must do something that we have not been able to do so far. We must create a unified front. Yes, this enforced and unwelcome isolation has been a burden. The alternative was that all of you would have been prisoners of the Sheik of Barsoom who we now know was the long-lost Prince Merrikh of Jasmine. Who among you can really say that you would have preferred his 'hospitality' to that of Ambassador Saladin?" Talbot allowed a moment for that to sink in before continuing.
"Look around you. You have now spent more time with these other delegates than you ever dreamed you would. What have you learned? Ayatollah Barzai? Do you still think that Bishop Sinclair is a man you cannot trust? Or does he, like you, only want the best for his people, his flock?"
The two men whom Talbot mentioned looked at each other. Their eyes met for a short moment before both of them nodded. They had not become close friends but... they were no longer enemies either. With these two strong leaders indicating that they agreed with Talbot, the rest of the meeting took a different direction.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I beg you. Roll up your sleeves and do what this Assembly was called upon to do in the first place. Forge a new level of understanding with your neighbors and rivals, establish lines of communication so that misunderstandings are less likely to occur."
Talbot, experienced speaker that he was, knew just when he had said enough and the time was right for him to wrap up his presentation. So he sat down.
The next to make an announcement was the Ayatollah Barzai. He cleared his throat before beginning to speak.
"Thank you, Dr. Talbot. I for one have grown to trust and respect our...accidental hosts. I have even begun to understand the distinguished Dr. Talbot and I agree with him, finally, on one thing: We have been given an opportunity. Who among you, like me, can see the hand of Allah, of God, on our enforced isolation? Ladies and Gentlemen, we got to together in the first place because we have a job to do. I say we sit down and get it done!"
There was long and loud applause when the Ayatollah finished his speech. The group went about the business of selecting a chair. At long last, the meeting was finally heading in the right direction!
The crew of the Istanbul maneuvered their ship carefully out of the Scrapyard and headed out to the New Ceylon hyperlink point before translating out to the Santana Nexus.
Chapter 67.
Santana Nexus Station, January 15, 2599.
At the summit meeting that followed in the aftermath of the Sheik's death and the defeat of his forces, the consortium of governments gathered at the Santana Nexus Station voted that the Santana Nexus be declared an interplanetary neutral zone. Federation and Islamic Alliance forces would maintain a presence but only to keep order. This meant that the United Terran Federation would no longer be using the Nexus Station as their base of operations for the Quadrant. Alternative arrangements were going to be necessary.
Kresge, Harris, Hawkins, Kelly, Hartmann and Juan Carlos Montoya met with Admiral Kingston and with several other high-ranking officers that had come out with the Federation reinforcements. Carlisle, who was back in the hospital for observation, was absent.
"Thank you all for coming," said Kingston. "As you all know by now, because of the decisions made at Ambassador Saladin's Summit meeting, we will not be rebuilding the Federation facilities here at the Nexus. We have been looking into some other options instead." She turned to Kresge. "What would it take to convert the Gibraltar, that battleship we powered up, into a permanent base station for the Reclamation center?'
Kresge thought for a moment before replying. "That's actually not such a bad idea, Admiral. The ship is plenty stout and we all have first-hand knowledge as to how
well-armed she is. As big as she is, we could continue to expand the living space as needed to accommodate as many personnel as we needed."
"There is more, Commander."
"Yes?"
"We want to move the Federation headquarters for the entire quadrant to your Reclamation Center. The newly created task group would have a permanent presence in New Ceylon and all over the Quadrant."
Kresge didn't know what to say.
"Furthermore, we wish to man the facility with personnel from this Quadrant. That means we'd want people from New Ceylon, Catskill-Soroyan, Heard's World and...Patagonia."
Juan Carlos grasped the meaning immediately. "That means..."
"Yes, Juan Carlos, we are offering Patagonia full colonial status in the Federation!"
"On the behalf of the people of Patagonia, I accept!"
"Who's going to be in charge of this 'new' facility?" asked Kresge.
"That would be you, Oskar, with Harris as your second in command. We would also be assigning Carlisle, Kelly and the three CPO's that you currently have, Hawkins, Allen and Jenkins. What do you say, Commander?"
"How can I refuse?" said Kresge. "I think I even have a name for the unit."
"Yes, of course," replied Kingston, "The Task Group would be known as 'The Junkyard Dogs!'"
***
Santana Nexus Station, January 18, 2599.
As things began to return to a semblance of order on the Nexus Station, Ensign Tamara Carlisle was examined thoroughly before being released by the Station doctors. She was ordered to take at least two weeks off to get some rest. The multiple brushes with death that she'd experienced over the last several days and the wounds that had been inflicted on her as a consequence, along with the injuries she had suffered during the earlier Scrapyard battles had left her battered and exhausted.
Orders or not, Kresge didn't believe that she could sit still for that long so he assigned someone to help enforce the rest regime. That someone was Lieutenant Ryan Harris, another person who, in the Commander's judgment, could benefit from some badly needed rest and recreation. The two officers, one actually convalescing and the other merely worn out, were provided rooms in a small and unique facility called "Santana's Finest Zero G Luxury Suites" located in the hub area of the second ring of the station. That close to the center of rotation, the hotel was -- as the name implied -- in an essentially weightless location. The lack of gravity was deemed to be the perfect environment for the recovering Ensign.
For the first several days, the Lieutenant's duty was easy as the Ensign essentially slept most of the time. After about the third day, he noticed that she was beginning to perk up and Harris decided the time was right for some low-stress socializing.
He spoke to her about it while they shared breakfast in the hotel restaurant.
"What would you say if I told you we had been invited out to a really nice place for dinner tonight," he said.
She played coy, a sure sign that she was starting to feel better. "Are you asking me out on a date, Lieutenant?"
"Well...um...yes, I guess I am."
"I'd love to go..." replied Carlisle, "except that I don't have anything to wear. Everything I own is back in the Scrapyard. Hell, I don't even have my dress uniform. It's packed away in my quarters back on the Greyhound."
"I think we may have that covered," replied Harris.
"How so?"
"Salaam's neighbor runs a woman's clothing store. He says you can come in and pick out anything you want. No charge. The neighbor wants to do something nice for 'all those wonderful people' who liberated the station."
"Really? That actually sounds like it might be fun but..."
"But what?"
"You have to come along and help me pick something out. You know me and civilian clothes. I have absolutely no sense of fashion whatsoever!"
"And you're desperate enough to rely on me?" said Harris, "The blind leading the blind? Don't say I didn't warn you!"
"There's a method here, Lieutenant. With you involved, at least there'll be someone to share the blame!"
"Count on a tactician to find an angle of some kind…"
"You expected less?" she replied.
They laughed and moved on to other topics as they finished their breakfast.
Right after lunch, the two of them made their way to Fahima's Fine Fashions, the clothing shop right next door to Salaam Alwadhi's curio store on the first level of the third ring. The concerns that both of them shared regarding fashion choices proved to be groundless as the proprietor's wife, Fahima, who had a keenly developed sense of fashion, basically took over the duties of helping Carlisle select something nice to wear for the dinner date.
Over the course of an hour and a half, Carlisle looked at a bewildering array of some of the most beautiful clothing she'd ever seen. Ultimately she tried on three different outfits. She changed into each of them in turn and then came out show them to Harris. With her short stature and her all but perfect body, he thought she looked stunning in every single one of them. She came out wearing the third and last of the three outfits. With Harris watching from a chair nearby, she did a complete turnaround while looking at her image in the impressive bank of mirrors that the upscale store was equipped with.
"You look absolutely gorgeous," said Harris.
"You're no help!" replied Carlisle, "That's the same thing you said about the last two outfits!"
"What can I say? It's true!"
She gave him a look of mock exasperation.
"So, which one should I pick?"
Harris was trying to come up with an intelligent response when he was rescued by the store owner.
"I can make it easy for you, Dr. Carlisle," said Gamal Kattan, "From what Salaam tells us, you'll be here for at least another two weeks. You're going to need some clothes to wear. Please, take all three of these outfits, with our complements!"
The two officers tried to argue the point but the storekeeper would have none of it. After an extremely one-sided discussion, they left with three very nice and very fashionable ensembles suitable for a variety of activities.
Harris insisted that Carlisle take a nap before getting ready for the evening. To his surprise, she didn't argue with him. Instead she said she wanted to be rested up for their "big date."
***
Early in the evening Lieutenant Ryan Harris and his stunningly beautiful and elegantly dressed companion made their way to the Nexus Plexus Restaurant and Bar, an establishment that had come highly recommended by Clancy Davis-Moore. To Carlisle's surprise and delight, they were met by her father and her brother Collin who already had a table and were waiting for them. Carlisle's brother looked a lot like their father though he was a little taller and not as broad in the shoulders. His Clan tattoo was the same.
The Spacers stood up to welcome the newcomers.
"Collin?" said Carlisle. She gave her younger brother a warm hug, "Lieutenant Ryan Harris? This is my brother Collin O'Connell."
The two men shook hands.
"I haven't seen you in ages!" Carlisle said to her brother, "How did you wind up here?"
"I joined up with the Piedmont forces when father came by on his recruiting mission," he replied.
The introductions over, they all took a seat. Over several rounds of drinks and an excellent dinner, Each of them had an opportunity to describe their own adventures during the battle for the Nexus Station. They ended up the narratives with Carlisle giving them a fairly detailed account of her own harrowing ordeal. Even Harris listened raptly as he hadn't heard the whole story either. As the evening progressed, they settled into comfortable small talk.
Finally Seamus said he wanted to make an announcement.
"I thought over what you said about Collin, Tamara," said her father, "He'll be joining back up with me and taking over the Donegal in a couple of years."
"Congratulations to both of you," she replied. She wore a look that was both happy and relieved at the same time.
After another h
alf hour or so the two miners excused themselves and departed, leaving the two Federation officers alone.
"This was really nice," said Carlisle, "Thank you for making it happen."
"My pleasure."
"I am getting a little tired though. I think it's time we got back to our hotel, Lieutenant."
"I'll take care of the bill on the way out," said Harris.
The proprietor of the restaurant said that the check had been picked up by the two gentlemen who had just left.
"Seems like we aren't having to pay for much of anything," said Harris.
"I wouldn't get used to it," replied Carlisle.
They made their way back through the station to their hotel. Like they had done on another occasion several months earlier, they paused outside the door to the Ensign's room. Once again, Carlisle didn't appear to be in a hurry to go inside.
"Do you remember way back a few months ago when we were on the New Ceylon Station?" asked Carlisle.
"How could I forget?" replied Harris, "You asked me to kiss you goodnight." He looked at the floor. "It was wonderful and...and awful at the same time."
She gave him a curious look. He shifted his gaze back to her eyes.
"I was absolutely certain that I'd never see you again!" he paused for a second and added, "...but I'd be more than happy to kiss you goodnight again if you'd like."
She paused for a long moment while she gave him a calculating look. The advice that Frank Talbot had given her just a few days ago came back to her, "Think of some things that you really want to do, just for you, and find a way to do them!"
"Actually," she said, "I was wondering what you would say if I asked you to kiss me good morning?"
It took Harris a moment to decide if he'd heard her right. His response, when it came out, was very Carlisle-like,
"Um...sure...I mean...Um...of course, how I could possibly refuse!"
She laughed and favored him with a dazzling smile.
"You are truly something special, Ryan!"
The Santana Nexus (Junkyard Dogs Book 3) Page 39
