Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (7 page)

"You’re not serious,” Ayan said. “The land
grant will be in addition to what you owe us for the Enforcer. You
should consider yourselves lucky that we’ve loaned you the use of
our fighter squadrons and helped you monitor our sector for defence
and navnet.”

“We pay you fairly for that on a flight by
flight basis,” Percy countered.

“Everyone else is offering more. We could
have made triple your rate if we ran security for shipments coming
into the system,” Jason said. “She’s right, you’ve had us for a
bargain.”

“Do you have the power to make this
decision?” asked Liam quietly. “You know we will be a positive
influence on the political landscape of this moon, it will serve
your career well in the long run.”

Percy looked surprised by the statement, as
though his authority had been questioned one moment, then he was
given the justification he needed to agree to their terms the next.
“I’ll approve this on the condition that I write three things in,”
he said in a calmer tone.

“I’m listening,” Ayan said, sitting down at
the opposite end of the table.

“You’ll get a launching area on that beach
instead of a full-on section. Acquiring adjacent land is up to you.
Secondly, you’ll be responsible for defending the island, and
proportionally defending our orbital space. Lastly, Jacob Valance
will appear and accept a Carthan statement of support in
person.”

“And you’re paying us the full price of our
captured ship? Granting us full sovereignty? Agreeing to the rest
of our terms?” Ayan asked.

“With the amendments I just put forward,
yes.”

Ayan looked to Jason, who looked relieved,
then to Liam, who nodded calmly, and to Laura, who whispered, “just
approve it before he thinks of something else.”

Relief washed over Ayan as she brought the
amended contract up on the table, brought up an ident entry box and
put her hand down on it. “Your turn,” she told Percy.

Three people entered from a door behind
Percy. Two were witnesses from his office, wearing squared suit
coats, and the third was a colonel. His uniform wasn’t like the
ornate type she’d been seeing for weeks. The armour he wore was
pockmarked, its dark surface discoloured from heat damage. Symbols
signifying combat medals scrolled across a small section of his
left breastplate. He spared Ayan and her party only a momentary
glance before focusing on the blinking approval square on the
table. “On with it, I have work to do,” he muttered at Percy.

Percy pressed his hand to the designated
part of the table. The military representative was next, and he was
out the door before the other two witnesses did their part.

Laura, Jason, and Liam all submitted their
approval by pressing their hands on the identity verification box
and the contract blinked green. It was as good as law.

Percy stood and straightened his black suit
jacket. He started down the length of the table, and Ayan met him
half way. “I know it’s been a long process, so you may not believe
me, but it’s been a pleasure negotiating with you,” he said.

“I think everyone will be happy in the end,”
Ayan replied, offering a smile. “Thank you, Percy.”

He nodded, seemingly more at ease, and said,
“you’re welcome,” before heading for the door. “The room is yours
for as long as you need.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jason
activated a small cylindrical surveillance scrambler and set it on
the table. "An island and sovereignty. I knew he had a lot of
negotiating power to play with, but that's way past what I would
have pushed for."

"You and I both. I didn't expect him to
offer anything like this," Ayan agreed.

"When I said we'd probably be walking away
from the table today, I expected the worst. I didn't think they'd
offer us anything like this. It's got to be half quicksand and half
man-eating jungle," Laura chuckled as she started looking at
reports from numerous scientists who had worked there.

“Not at all,” Liam said. “Where quicksand is
concerned, at least. As far as man-eaters, the biological record
doesn’t show anything big enough, but they’re four years old, so we
can’t know for sure.”

“I wasn’t serious,” Laura said.

“I know,” Liam said with a wink. "They are
desperate for privateers, and this moon is more than they can
govern," Liam said quietly. "Kambis is many, many times the size of
Tamber, and it's their priority. Their presence on Tamber can't be
beneficial yet, especially since they can't spare the men or
equipment to provide law enforcement outside of Grey Dock. It's a
good idea for them to give land to people who need it, especially
when it's likely that whoever they grant the land to will give up
once they realise how much work it will take to build an
environmentally-friendly landing structure." He brought up the
geological scans of the island and studied them.

“Only, we won’t be privateering,” Jason
said. He brought up a specific article and enlarged it. “This is
more of a treaty, giving a new government guidelines for formation
on their world. We can form our own military, and we agreed to this
before they could put any restrictions on size, that’s the real win
here.”

“Good thing they brought in someone from the
military who has better things to do,” Laura said.

“We lucked out,” Jason said. “Poor guy was
probably just passing by when his comm beeped with orders to put a
military stamp on a civilian negotiation.”

“Or,” Liam said, bringing up the identity of
their Carthan Military approver. Colonel Jarod Ironmonger was his
name, and he had served for eight years as the tail end of a penal
term, then continued to serve in the Carthan military for another
twenty-seven. “He’s been following this and supports us. Like you
said, they need fighters, allies.”

“I’ll do some research,” Jason said. “If
you’re right, I want to know for sure.”

Jason was looking through the negotiation
logs for the day, ensuring that everything they discussed and
agreed on was reflected in the document. They only had twenty hours
to do so, and at the rate he was working, he’d be finished in
minutes. "I don't see any surprises here, but there is a clause
that states that if the island is under-utilised for more then
three years, it becomes Carthan property again. What they term as
under-utilised isn't a problem for us. If we settle there, half of
the people we have will be plenty to demonstrate occupation. What
you're saying about them being stretched thin is true too. They're
contracting out most of the law enforcement on Kambis, and I've
been seeing reports on the Stellarnet of Confederate rebels in
every big city in the solar system. If there's one thing the
Carthans know for sure, it's that we're not Confederates who refuse
to leave, and we'll defend whatever they give us."

“So Tamber is home now,” Laura said
quietly.

“Are you all right with that?” Ayan
asked.

“Yeah, it just happened so fast at the end
that it’s like a surprise, even though I knew a land grant was
something we were looking for,” Laura replied. “National
Sovereignty though, that’s something I never thought we’d get. I
mean, I understood why we kept putting it on the table, you need to
ask big so the lower option is still good, but getting it... Wow.
It’s just starting to settle in.”

“The Carthans don’t have time to govern us,”
Jason said. “I think it’s that simple. I wonder how happy Jake will
be with this. He doesn’t seem like the ‘land and settle’ type.”

Ayan had been avoiding the thought. “We need
a base of operations. We’ll be able to operate from a stable base.
It won’t be privateering, but better. I only wish we didn’t still
have to pay for slips in Port Rush, but it’s going to take us
months to build a proper spaceport.” She shook her head at the
realisation.

Liam’s hand landed gently on her shoulder as
he asked, “are you all right?”

“It’s just a lot to think on,” Ayan
answered. “You ask for something for so long not thinking you’ll
get it, then it’s yours and you have to deliver.”

“You’re not alone,” Liam said.

She patted his hand and looked into his
brown eyes, smiling. “I know.” A long moment passed as she shared a
gaze with him. Her bracelet sent a sense that there was an incoming
message. She shook herself free of the moment with a long
inhale.

Ayan looked at the short text message and
raised an eyebrow. “It’s Jake, he’s in Gray Dock.”

“He’s supposed to be blending in with the
salvage workers aboard the Enforcer,” Jason said.

“Well, he’s here, has a surprise for me,”
Ayan said. “Are you all right reviewing the rest of this
yourself?”

“Go ahead, you two have barely seen each
other in weeks,” Laura said, interrupting an objection from
Jason.

“Can you hold off on sending the news of
this out for a few minutes? I’d like to surprise Jake,” Ayan asked
Jason.

“Sure,” he said, not looking away from the
scrolling documents in front of him. “You go have fun.”

The debrief on Skydock was thorough and
boring. Minh’s entire squadron was held after their ten hour patrol
was concluded. Even though the core of the orbital station looked
ancient from the outside, the condition of the interior was
remarkable. The surfaces were clean, but not reflective, as he
would have thought they were. The matte finish had the strange
characteristic of looking like it wanted to shine, but the
reflections were somehow impeded by the surface coat of metallic
green and silver.

He and Slick were the last to leave the
briefing room, a half-circle space with blue padded seats
surrounding a small stage in the centre. He’d said everything he
had to, filled in all the blanks, and the rest of his wing had done
the same.

“Hold one moment,” called Lieutenant
Commander Moda.

Slick and Ronin stopped and turned. The
twelve pilots under their command, all formerly from the Triton,
waited expectantly in the hall. The tall, wiry Lieutenant Commander
in charge of patrol outsourcing for that sector smiled at them a
little nervously. She seemed new in her command. “I have a couple
more questions for you two,” she said, closing the distance between
them.

“Fire away,” Minh replied.

“First, for the record, what is the name of
your fighter wing? Does it have one yet?”

They were still tossing around ideas, and
Minh was still undecided, so he hesitated. It seemed that Slick had
already made up his mind, judging from his answer. “Samurai
Squadron,” he said.

Minh regarded Slick with an upraised eyebrow
for a moment, but his former copilot didn’t react, so he nodded.
“That’s us. Samurai Squadron, under the direction of Ronin.” He was
a little surprised when no one caught the issue with the terms
‘Samurai’ and ‘Ronin’ mingling.

“All right, it is so recorded,” replied the
Lieutenant Commander. “I have an elective question for you: Did you
think the Carthan military responded appropriately to the
threat?”

“Elective, meaning we don’t have to answer,”
Slick said.

“I’ll answer,” Minh said before Lieutenant
Commander Moda could reply. “No, I don’t think they used the
appropriate countermeasures. That barrier weapon was heavy-handed
for the threat, and I’ll bet half my pay that those Eden ships had
an uplink to a hypertransmitter somewhere that sent readings to the
nearest Order ship. Your commanders should have sent the destroyers
they had on standby in to flank while your station’s missile
batteries tore everything else to shreds.”

Slick regarded Minh-Chu with mild surprise.
“Don’t hold back, now.”

“She asked,” Minh said with a shrug. “That
was the Eden fleet checking defences. I’d be surprised if those
ships were anything more than antiques.”

“Thank you very much, Wing Commander,”
replied Lieutenant Commander Moda. “You’ll find your payment with
your lead fighters in lock boxes secured with the agreed upon
combinations.”

They were nearly outside of the room when
Minh-Chu gave into an impulse to say something that seemed to be
hovering overhead for the entire briefing. “You’re going to need to
hire more pilots.”

Lieutenant Commander Moda stopped and said,
“Pardon me, Sir?”

“If your government has friends in higher
places, they should start making calls and bringing help in. The
war is almost here, and you won’t be able to fight it with the
ships you have in this solar system, even if you spend everything
you have on outsourcing.”

“Do you have information you haven’t
shared?” Lieutenant Commander Moda asked.

“No, but I’ve seen two wars start in my
lifetime, and this will be number three,” Minh replied. He turned
back towards the doorway, through which he could see the faces of
his pilots. Some were ashen white, others were concerned, while
Joyboy seemed unbothered by anything he’d overheard.

“Which wars?” asked Lieutenant Commander
Moda. “Sir! Which wars?”

Minh didn’t bother turning around but
answered. “The All-Con conflict, and the Vindyne liberation.”

“Why isn’t that in the record?”

“Because I’d rather tell stories that have a
happy ending, and both left millions in the cold.”

The door closed behind them, and Slick
stopped Minh-Chu. “What’s going on?” he asked in a whisper. “You’ve
been in a bad mood for days and now I know it has nothing to do
with Paula dogging you whenever you make landfall.”

“Let’s start with the pilots that shouldn’t
be here,” Minh said levelly. “A third of our wing would make
passable transit pilots, but they’re not ready for combat. You and
I both know they’re only here because we’re trying to earn as much
as we can, running extra patrols using filler. We have to cut back
on our patrols so we can use our best pilots every time.”

“Pardon me, Sir,” interjected Quiz, a thin
young man who was a little shorter than Ronin and nothing but skin
and bones. “I bagged one of those ‘bots, I know, but I could still
use experience. How am I supposed to get that if I’m grounded?”