Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (59 page)

              The Severites all smiled and exchanged looks.  The proprietor blinked amusement.  “Pretty lady must be reasonable.  All the hardware she wants?  Must be willing to meet me at a reasonable price.”

              The haggling went on for a little while longer, until they finally agreed on a price of fifty-two hundred ducaries, which Taja paid.  The Severites opened up the inner door to the garage, and then the outer door to the street.  Tamara stepped out into the street to find, much to her surprise, the car was right where they had left it, completely untouched.

              The proprietor noticed her surprise.  “Oh, no, no, lady, no one touch your ride here.  Everyone know that be a bad thing to do in front of my establishment.”

              Tamara got in and backed the vehicle into the garage, where they loaded up their gear.  They lashed the crates of guns and ammo to the flatbed and then climbed aboard and drove off.  Before they left, Taja promised that if they needed any more of either while they were still planetside they would come and visit him. 

              “What do you think?” Tamara asked, pulling away from the curb. 

              “I think he actually got away with more money than he should have,” Taja admitted, settling more comfortably into the passenger seat.

              “You’re slipping,” Tamara noted with a smile.  Taja slapped her playfully on the arm.

              “I think we got some decent swag,” Corajen piped up from the back seat.  “Take a little work to get them cleaned up and such, but I would do that anyway.  I’m not going to trust my life, or the crews’ lives with what might be a faulty weapon.”

              “Copy that,” Tamara replied as she drove them back to the landing pad.  Once they arrived, Taja had the two crewmen that were waiting around for the launch help load the crates onto the shuttle, with Taja’s order they be taken up to the ship on the next run. 

              “All right, Cora, lose the guns,” Taja ordered.  “I feel like dancing!”

              Vincent Eamonn sat in the wardroom, staring at a display showing the planet below.  He couldn’t see more than land, oceans and swirling clouds.  He didn’t expect to see anything else, and truth be told, he wasn’t really looking.  He had escaped to the wardroom, taking a break from his own logs, the endless calls from the people on the surface.  The locals were so happy to see him and his big ship that they were pestering him to fill his holds with goods that they manufactured for him to transfer to another system.  He and Taja had worked with them, taking on a number of things, but he had decided he wasn’t going to take on any more cargo.  While shares were up, there was only so much he could afford to take on, since he’d have to purchase here to resell in another system.  Even cutting his own captain’s share down to almost nothing, he could only afford to fill the holds about two thirds of the way. 

              But that was far more cargo than he was used to.  He still couldn’t get over the overhauls to his battered old ship.  She looked nearly brand new and could hold so much more.  The crew was nearly at optimal size, another change for the better.  It was as though the old girl had been rejuvenated, found her lost youth and purpose.  And he for one liked it. 

              Next stop after this was Ulla-tran and their long awaited meeting with the
Emilia Walker
.  At each of the ports they’d made, he’d stashed away some of the profits to go toward the co-op, hoping to have some startup capital when they made it there.  He truly hoped that Vosteros had worked out the issues with his crew and had decided to take him up on his offer to work together.  They’d have to set up some sort of office, though Ulla-tran would be well suited for that.  It would mean that ultimately, Ulla-tran would be their new home base.  It might restrict his ability to simply go gallivanting all over the cluster, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.  He’d have to think on that.

              It would also mean that someone would have to stay behind to man the home office.  He certainly didn’t want that job; he was a freighter captain after all.  It would require someone with administrative abilities, someone willing and able to work with the locals, keep track of everything as well as have a head for figures.  Hopefully, if everything worked out, the co-op would have more than two ships in a reasonable amount of time, either by recruiting others or building new ships.  That also meant that person would have to be able to handle the various captains, recruitment of staff as well as crews for the ships.  A grand undertaking, really.

              He shook his head, clearing away the fantasies.  Oh, this co-op could still happen, even if
Emilia Walker
turned their collective noses up at his offer.  He could find someone else willing to join, hell, with Tamara and her replicators, they could
build
another ship and simply recruit. 

             
Now there’s an idea.  But then I run the same risk as with the
Emilia Walker
.  That I would build the ship, stock it, staff it, and then the captain and crew that I hire simply run off with it.  That obviously would be less than optimal.  Clearly this will take some serious thought and planning.

              “Captain?  Do you have a moment?” Quesh asked over the comms.

              He sighed.  No time for that now, it seemed.  He made a mental note to start working on plans for the co-op.  And if
Emilia Walker
did indeed show up as scheduled, he would work with Vosteros to try and come up with some sort of workable plan.

              He activated the comms.  “Yes, Chief.  What’s the problem?”

              “I wanted to talk with you about some housekeeping items.  Got the main engine maintenance finished, but a few things have cropped up.  Specifically, the port injector feeds.  They’re acting up again…”

              Taja brought them to a nightclub on the other side of town from the landing area.  The place was built from the same gray bricks as many of the other buildings in the area, though it looked as though some small effort was made to spruce the place up.  The front area was painted a dark burgundy, and it looked as though someone had tried to make it look fancier by hanging flashing lights above the door and lined the door itself with what looked to be brass.  It certainly was shiny, though when the lights flashed it also tended to glare and reflect the light into everyone’s eyes. 

              “We’re really going in there?” Corajen asked, dubiously.

              Taja glared at her.  “Yes, we are, even you.  Besides, what would you be doing tonight if you weren’t out with us?”

              She actually thought about it.  “I’d probably fine some dive bar, drink until they closed, then start a fight and then take someone somewhere more private to spend the night.”

              “Spend the night?” Tamara articulated with a grin.

              Corajen shrugged.  “Well, that
is
the euphemism.  But I don’t think I would actually need the whole night.”

              “Just use ‘em and lose ‘em, huh?” the engineer asked.

              The lupusan shrugged.  “I’m not one for big attachments.  Besides, the land rats here don’t interest me that much.”

              “But you’d bring them back for the night?”

              The lupusan sighed.  “They serve a specific purpose.  I don’t lose any sleep over it.”

              Tamara wrinkled her nose.  “Aren’t you worried about, well, disease?  Especially in a place like this?”  She waved a hand to encompass their surroundings.

              Corajen shrugged again.  “I’m careful and I don’t sleep with anyone who doesn’t smell right.  And the doc takes good care of me.”

              The lupusan’s sense of smell was legendary.  Not only did they make excellent trackers, but it was even rumored that they could smell when someone was ill.  Obviously, there were times that
anyone
could detect illness, like if someone was vomiting or covered in sores, but the lupusan carried that to incredible heights.  The wolfen race could detect cancer as well as other ailments and if what she was implying was to be believed, sexually transmitted diseases as well.

              “All right, no more of that,” Taja admonished them.  “I want to have fun and you two are
not
going to ruin it for me.”

              He next morning, the Captain was just stepping out of his stateroom when his communicator beeped.  He pulled it from his pocket and flipped it open.  “Eamonn here.”

              Serinda answered.  “Captain we have an incoming transmission from the surface.  Their security service is calling.”

              He blinked.  “What?  Why?  What happened?”

              “They didn’t say, Captain.  They’re demanding to speak with you.”

              He sighed.  “All right.  I’m on my way to the wardroom, I’ll take it there.”

              A minute later he was in his chair in the wardroom, hand on his forehead, resting on his elbow.  “Are they on video?”

              “Yes, Captain,” Serinda answered.  “Should I put them through?”

              He straightened up.  “Yes, go ahead.”  The display over the table came to life, showing a man wearing a gray uniform, with a pin showing a pair of crossed swords on collar.  Eamonn presumed this signified he was a member of planetary security.  “This is Captain Eamonn.  How can I help you today?”

              “Captain,” the man began, speaking with the same lazy sort of accent that all the locals seemed to have.  “I’m Officer Tremaine.  I have some of your crew down here that were caught causing a bit of a ruckus.”

             
A ruckus?
  “What happened, Officer?”

              “They got into a drunken brawl in one of the bars.  They actually caused quite a stir.  A few people are in the hospital, Captain.”

              “I see.”

              “There was quite a lot of damage as well, though the owner of the establishment isn’t pressing charges for damage.”

              That was unusual, especially, if the amount of damage was as serious as the officer here was intimating.  Maybe the owner had been
persuaded
not to do so for fear of offending the captain of the ship that was helping so much with the construction projects.  He suspected that was it.

              “Well that’s certainly generous of him.  How many of my crew do you have?”

              “Five, Captain,” the man told him.  “And I’d certainly be grateful if you came down and got them.  Normally, I’d be tossing them in jail, but since they’re not locals and if you’re willing to take them aboard, well, I think we can just put the whole matter behind us.”

              For just an instant, he bristled.  But then he relaxed.  Planetary security wasn’t answerable to him.  Yes, certainly there was some political pressure to keep him and his crew happy, but if his crew crossed the line somewhere the locals were well within their rights to lock them up.  And he wasn’t going to let his people swing.  Or rather, if they were going to swing, he was going to be the one to hold the rope.

              “Very well, Officer Tremaine.  I’ll be on the next shuttle down to collect my people.  Please have them ready for transport.”

              “Thank you, Captain.  I appreciate the situation this puts you in.”

              “Thank
you
, Officer.  I’ll be down directly.”  He cut the connection.  Then he pressed another control.  “Security, this is the Captain.”

              “Saiphirelle here, Captain,” the lupusan replied immediately.

              “Good.  Sai, get me a shore patrol, five person team, armed with stunners.  We have some naughty crewmembers to collect.”

              “Yes, Captain.  We’ll be in the boat bay in ten minutes.”

              “Right.”

              The bedraggled, battered group of crewmembers waiting at the edge of the landing field were flanked by a trio of Planetary Security officers.  All five of the crewers were cuffed, with their hands behind their backs.  As the shuttle touched down and the landing ramp lowered, their spirits rose; they would finally get out of this degrading position and back up to the ship.  When they saw the Captain standing there, looking down from the ramp, those spirits plummeted.

              The Captain looked every one of them over, his face like stone.  He trotted down the ramp, the members of his shore party with him.  He heard a snort from Saiphirelle, but he didn’t look back.  Eamonn walked up to Officer Tremaine.

              “Officer Tremaine, thank you for collecting my people,” he told the man.

              Tremaine saluted him as the Captain walked up and Eamonn returned it in a more sloppy fashion.  “Captain Eamonn, I’m sorry that we had to meet under such circumstances.  It seems that your crew did not sustain any life threatening injuries, but we did have the medics look them over.  Contusions and scrapes, and I think that one has a big gash on her leg, but I don’t think it’s serious.  I understand you have a doctor aboard your ship.”  It wasn’t a question.