by Ryan Krauter
To some, like his Captain, this was a holy quest, to bring order to these unbelievers who refused to acknowledge their place. To Krenis, it was an opportunity to learn, to study how species developed, and to acquire interesting technology to decipher.
“Is this seat taken?” a voice asked. Krenis looked and saw a face he recognized, a local man named Cutter Sarn. He nodded to the stool next to him, “Take a seat, friend.”
Sarn sat down and ordered a mug of the local brew, the same as Krenis was having. He knew the Priman, had in fact done business with him before. Krenis had been through here a half dozen times since the Primans took Anderson, and on the second occasion Sarn had struck up a conversation. He’d almost been pummeled by the rest of the Priman’s crew in a protective gesture, but they soon realized Sarn wasn’t into making trouble; he was into helping people. He’d supplied them with the local things that the Primans discovered they’d wanted- foodstuffs, alcohol, even trinkets and things like sunglasses and clothing. He realized that he could make a fortune selling outdoors products to Primans, since after living in giant starships for all those generations, they didn’t have much practical experience with the outdoors anymore. He’d made a note to check into that possibility once this was all over and settled. He’d never actually thought he’d be in a position to sell them the technology that was in their mandate, though.
“So, been anywhere interesting?” Sarn asked in what had become their ritual exchange.
“Yes, and I can’t tell you anything about it,” Krenis replied with his line.
They sat there in silence while Sarn took a long sip of his brew. The he set it down and turned to Krenis, using the ever-increasing crowd noise to cover their conversation.
“I had someone approach me today,” he started neutrally. “She claimed she worked for a shipping company that had made drops for a half dozen clients right here on Anderson.”
Krenis appeared attentive but unimpressed.
Sarn set a datapad on the bar in between them. “She claimed it was from planets that were in imminent danger of invasion, and that the clients paid her company to secretly send things here to avoid capture. On that pad are the manifests she gave me.” He nodded at the datapad, which Krenis picked up and studied. The person Sarn was talking about had included the manifests, but de-identified them so that tracing them was all but impossible. He read through them and kept a straight face, but inside his head the gears were turning. Three of those planets in particular were very advanced, one in biosciences, a field that all Primans held dear. The companies in question were all major players, and could conceivably have valuable information.
“This looks interesting,” he replied. “I will admit that I’m intrigued. If we could acquire new information, especially something that the owners thought was worth protecting, it would be a worthy cause. What arrangements would I be looking at should I be interested?”
Sarn tried to hide his joy. Krenis was trying to be a player, but he was too new at it. The guy was excited, and trying to conceal it as best he could. He knew that the Priman wouldn’t be able to resist; he was the explorer of their group, and the hook was set.
“The client wants to meet as soon as we can. Does tomorrow work for you?”
Krenis thought about it. He’d have to tell the rest of his crew, but they were all explorers to differing degrees, and they had access to various forms of currency for occasions just such as this, when it was easier to buy information than fight for it.
“It should,” Krenis replied. “What is your client’s price?”
Sarn thought. He and Kira hadn’t discussed price, most likely because she figured he’d know what it was worth. That was the toughest part. He didn’t want to let something go that was worth more than he’d asked, but if it the items they found didn’t pan out, he didn’t want to have a half dozen Primans unhappy with him, either.
“The client asked for fifty thousand. Frankly, I don’t know any more about the cargo than you do, since I got that manifest from her. She assures me she can provide more locations, though, so I’d consider this a test run as well. If you like what you find, maybe it’s worth more next time. If you don’t like it, tell her you’ll pay less, or maybe she owes you one. I work with both of you, of course, so I want you both to continue wanting to do business or I don’t get paid, either. Fifty seems fair if it’s as good as she’s trying to hint at.”
Krenis looked at Sarn for a few seconds, then responded. “Agreed. Fifty thousand this time, next time might be different. We’re leaving tomorrow night, so if the intel’s good we’ll acquire some more currency and arrange another deal on the way back through.”
“Let’s talk details, then.”
Halley played the audio-only message for Web and Loren on her communicator a few minutes after Sarn’s meeting had concluded. “Ms. Malix, I’ve made arrangements with a Priman who is a member of The Keepers, as you asked. He is offering fifty thousand Standard for your first location here on Anderson, with a contingency for more business after that. He cautions the price could change for future deals based on the worth of what we’ll go see this time. He can meet for the exchange tomorrow night before they head off-planet. I told him that would work. Please comm me to confirm this message and we’ll arrange a location, preferably not too far from the bar where we met in the first place. We can’t have the Primans go wandering too far off into the night.”
“That’s great,” Loren said after the message had ended, “but it’s not even midnight here. We have to wait almost another entire day,” he said in disgust. “I know maybe that’s the best we can hope for, but I don’t have to like it.”
Making a great effort to control himself, he walked back to the living area and finished the process of reassembling his SSK after having thoroughly cleaned it. He hoped he’d get to use it on some Primans soon.
Tana Starr walked purposefully through the halls of the Confederation Senate buildings on Delos. The actual Senate complex took up a dozen city blocks, but she knew exactly where she was going, and it took her no time at all to navigate the place. Despite her well-traveled demeanor, she marveled at the architecture around her. Different areas of the building had been built to different themes, with some parts given over to organic, curved and rough-hewn surfaces that made her think of stone and earth. Some were the stereotypical government style, with multiple-story atriums, stone columns and arches, with polished floors of expensive marble or other exotic materials.
She realized that all the founding member worlds of the Confederation, as well as others in the years that passed, had been able to have their own styles and ‘feel’ used in the construction of the building. She was impressed at the symbolism that showed proud individuality as well as the unity of all being part of a greater whole. Maybe she was wrong about the humans after all.
But probably not. Tana was an experienced Priman operative, currently wearing prosthetics that made her appear Drisk. While it was true that passengers on scheduled lines were required to pass through security procedures that these days included an effective Priman detection ability, she had been covertly inserted via a secret compartment aboard a bulk freighter. It was part of a larger black market organization whose crew had been paid (though they didn’t know it) by the Primans to get their person on the surface. As far as the smuggler crew knew, she was just another person who had her own reasons why she couldn’t travel like a normal person. As long as her money was good, they didn’t make it their business to care.
She soon enough found Senator Dennix’s offices, and entered the waiting area. It was somewhat crowded, and she took note with disdain the disorganized atmosphere. A Priman official in charge of anything would not have stood for this disorder in their midst; it would have been shameful.
Finally, someone approached her.
“Hello there, Ms-?” the young man asked. Her opinion of the Senator crept ever downward as she realized he had surrounded himself with sycophants and gatekeepers to isolate
himself.
“My name is Tana Starr,” she said pleasantly. “I don’t have an appointment, but I represent the interests of a very powerful man the Senator has done business with who needs just a few minutes of his time.”
“Ah, yes,” the man countered, as she knew he would. “The Senator is very busy trying to rebuild the government of the Confederation. If you don’t have an appointment, I would be happy to make one, but short of that, I doubt he’ll be able to see you today.” He raised a datapad and earnestly started looking at his calendar.
“You are obviously not the person I need to be talking to,” Tana replied evenly. “Who is your superior in this office?”
His tone hardened, the affectation of a person who had never experienced real danger or adversity, someone who was used to wielding what little power he held without being questioned about it. “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to get you in any faster,” he began, but she had already started walking away.
Tana maneuvered around the office, bumping into at least two other minions as she looked for her quarry. Finally, she found him, holding court in front of large wooden double doors at the back of the office. It wasn’t the Senator, but it had to be his right hand man. He had an air that she recognized, someone who was also used to telling others he was in charge.
She walked right up to him as he was dismissing another staffer and putting something into his own datapad.
“Excuse me,” she began directly. “My employer is a very powerful man from the Senator’s past, and I must get a message directly to him immediately.”
The young aide finally caught up to her, and in a huff grabbed her upper left arm to turn her around. That was a mistake. She reached across with her other arm and grabbed his hand as she shrugged out of his ineffective grip. She bent his wrist down and soon had him on his knees, then switched the hold to her left hand again. Wincing but unable to move, he remained in position. There were enough people in the office that most people never saw the altercation.
“You may tell the Senator that I am friend of a Mr. Jumer, who was once the employer of Ples Damar.” She said quietly but with authority. “I will wait here for his response.”
Enric Shae let his datapad fall to his side. This woman was serious and potentially deadly, and in spite of himself he realized he did not want to get involved in a pissing contest with her. Her manner said she was a professional, but a professional what he had no idea. He held her gaze for several more seconds, during which her eyes bored right into his. Something about her confidence was attractive to him, and he realized that in another time and place he would have seen her in a completely different light. Right now, however, with her holding one of his interns on the ground in a submission hold and threatening to cause a serious disturbance in the Senator’s office, he figured the quickest way to get this over with was to call her on her information and see if the Senator wanted to see her. If not, he’d also take great pleasure in calling Senate Security and leveling as many charges against her as he cold think of.
He simply nodded and tapped a button on his datapad, then touched his earbud to activate it. Receiving a response from inside the office, he began. “Senator, there’s a woman here named Tana Starr. She says she’s a friend of a Mr. Jumer, a former employer of Ples Damar. She’s on the verge of causing a disturbance, sir. Should I call Security?”
Zek Dennix had no idea who in the galaxy Tana Starr was, and was just about to tell Shae he needed to do a better job of exercising his discretion when he heard ‘Jumer’ and ‘Damar’. He was incredibly glad he was seated, because his legs instantly started shaking. In fact, his arm stopped working and fell from his comm panel to the surface of his desk and he realized he’d stopped breathing. He swallowed hard, willing himself to pull it together, but it wasn’t happening the way he wanted it to. His body simply wasn’t obeying his commands. And rightly so, he figured. Ples Damar, early on after he’d finally revealed to Dennix that he wasn’t just an aide but actually a Priman, had given him a list of code phrases that covered various eventualities. Mr. Jumer was supposed to mean a message from a senior Priman- a Representative or maybe even the Commander himself. The reference to Damar was a reminder that there were plenty of people who knew the Senator had colluded with the Primans and that he was still more or less theirs.
“Senator.” The voice of Enric Shae over the intercom made Dennix twitch back to the present. “Should I call Security, or would you like to see her?” From his voice, Dennix could tell which one Shae would have preferred, but that would be a very bad idea, for so many reasons. He stood up, adjusted his clothing and tunic, then stabbed the ‘transmit’ button.
“Send her in, Mr. Shae, and hold everything else until we’re done.”
The doors opened, and Tana Starr entered the office with no further fanfare. Enric Shae took his time closing the doors behind her, and Dennix could tell by the way he was giving her the evil eye that Shae might cause problems with her. Dennix needed to be on top of that, because as far as he could tell, nobody other than the Primans knew of his actions under their orders, and if Shae caused problems towards this Tana woman, there very might be questions asked that he couldn’t answer.
The Priman woman was disguised as a Drisk, and an attractive one at that. Primans tended to be tall, and her figure combined with her height and bearing would attract male attention. If he spent too much time with her, people would probably accuse him of something unprofessional sooner or later, especially considering the requisite clandestine nature of their business.
Tana walked up to where he stood in front of his desk and offered her his hand, which he shook firmly.
He walked around back behind his desk and placed his hand on the chair back. “Please, have a seat Ms. Starr.” He sat down in his own well-padded chair while she made herself comfortable in the much less accommodating chairs designated for visitors.
Tana realized the game he was playing with the chairs, of course. His chair was big and comfortable, hers was barely more than a plank covered in fabric. Yet more of the games human were fond of playing to show who was in the position of power. Time to change that.
“Mr. Dennix,” she began, moving right along. “Let’s get right to the heart of the matter, shall we?” She didn’t wait for him to agree before she continued. “You know who I am and who I represent. It has been some time- ever since your escape from Delos, which we managed to collaborate on, actually- that we’ve heard from you. We realize Mr. Damar was killed during your escape attempt, but the fact that you failed to reach out to us since your return to power is, unsettling. I have been sent to re-establish contact.”
Dennix could only concentrate on the matter of Ples Damar. If the Primans knew that he himself had shot Damar in cold blood, he might not be having this conversation. He needed to play the grieving and sympathy cards for all they were worth. “I realize I have not contacted you,” he began slowly, “but I have been under very close security since my return. My place in the government makes me one of the most guarded people on the planet, I’m afraid, and my opportunities to try to arrange a meet or communication are limited. I mourn the loss of my friend Ples to this day.” He held up his hand, indicating the ring of Damar’s that he still wore. “I keep this as a memento of my colleague and friend. But you are here now, and I assume you have something to say?” He dreaded where she was headed, but it wasn’t as though he had a lot of choice in the matter.
“I do. The new Commander has instructed me to give you guidelines for our arrangement.”
“New? Was there a change in your leadership?” Dennix asked. Things like that had a way of destabilizing past agreements.
“The Commander at the time of invasion was always destined to pass the mantle of leadership to the next Representative in line. The Commander you dealt with is now himself a Representative again; you would address him as Representative Velk. The Commander is not addressed by his last name while he holds the title of leadership. There is only one C
ommander, so it is not necessary to use the name.”
“I see,” Dennix said, though he really didn’t, he’d have to admit.
“In any case, your original terms were for you to act as our figurehead or representative after we’d conquered the Confederation. Since your escape from Delos, we have altered our plans. As you have no doubt noticed, we have altered the axis of invasion to pass more through Talaran space, since our efforts to destabilize their government were more thorough and wide-ranging than here. To that end, we again offer the terms of limited autonomy and our protection in return for your pledge to do your part in our eventual occupation.”
“Eventual?” Dennix asked.
“Make no mistake, Senator, we will eventually turn our focus back towards Confederation space. With so much distance to cover and such wide-ranging plans, we took the easiest route through this part of the galaxy on our way coreward. Sooner or later, once our main routes are completely pacified, we will need to secure our flanks and supply routes. The Confederation is a danger to both of those, as well as a recognized and able threat against us. We’d rather arrange a formal treaty or surrender, but we will secure this area to our satisfaction one way or the other.”
So there it was, Dennix thought. There was no ignoring the fact that they weren’t going to escape the Primans’ attention just because they fought them off once.
“And I assume you have recommendations?” Dennix added. In an appropriately somber tone, Tana realized. Good.
“We have. There are several options the Commander has offered. One is outright annexation, something you would petition for. We would accept your request, and simply take over governance of the Confederation. Many of your current agencies and policies would remain in place, though of course we would have changes to make to your economy, education, and military. You would remain as the senior Confederation official, and if it came down to it we would insist on it based on the relationship we would claim we have developed with you.
