Frozen Soul, and other works: Chapter 142

(BSS Starlight Raven, Dimiya Space)

I smiled, and leaned back in my pilot’s chair to stretch a bit once we had transitioned out of FTL and back into ‘real’ space. Being able to cover astronomical distances in days instead of years was amazing, and I did appreciate how it would allow players who weren’t in long-term immersion pods like me take breaks for their real life while they traveled between systems. But for me, it just left me with a lot of time to sit back, relax and… well, have a lot of fun with the girls. So I guess I really didn’t mind the travel time at all.

Raven looked up from the chair where she was monitoring sensors. “Captain, we are being hailed by the heavy cruiser CNS Aepetor. They have orders to escort us to Dimiya for a conference on Netherstorm Station.”

I checked the scanners, and saw the Aepetor about a light minute out, and on an intercept course with us. It was a corvette, like the Assassins, but was a more traditional model. The fact that they sent a ship to escort us was unusual, though. Probably for the best that I had ordered Shadowdancer and the Luvon Gilrie to enter the system under stealth, just in case. I hadn’t been expecting trouble, but the idea was that you practiced like it was the big game, not a scrimmage against the scout team. So even coming into the Dimiya system, where I had a sizeable fleet to back me up, we played it with cards close to the vest.

“Really? And what reason have they given for the escort, or the conference?”

Raven shook her head. “The message didn’t include anything. However, the orbital shipyard’s office just received a message that they’ve forwarded along to us from Lieutenant Maeral Zumrora of Naval Intelligence. Putting it on your screen.”

Captain Mollen,

The ship escorting you to Netherstorm Station has been given orders by Rear Admiral Ayre Sylsalor. Officially, the conference you’ve been invited to is to negotiate the Black Star Navy’s help in rooting out some of the pirate clans working in the Tietera-Vulsore corridor along the border with the Free Worlds Alliance. Unfortunately, the Admiral is a rather proud sort, and the actions of Black Star of late have caused him to get his back up about asking ‘mercenaries’ for help. He wishes to provoke you into some action that would allow him to place legal restrictions on you, or say that you are not negotiating in good faith to allow the Navy to take the lead in this.

As you might guess, the Admiral does not have my knowledge of your capabilities and habits, and since I would rather not have to put together an intelligence dossier on how to survive a fight against your forces, I’m giving you this warning. He will try to bait you. However, there will be others listening in electronically who may lean on him if he goes too far.

In hopes of future business dealings,

Lieutenant Maeral Zumrora

I frowned, and said, “Well, it would seem that Zumrora views us, or at least Black Star, as a valuable asset, and is trying his best to keep the idiot admiral from burning ties. I knew there was a reason I liked that man, even if he was a spook. All right, send to the Aepetor, and tell them that we will rendezvous with them at Netherstorm Station after I’ve had some time to relax and have a hot meal.”

I paused, and then said, “And make the calculations for a microjump to the shipyards so we can get in our security cordon. Have the Assassins ready to jump with us on my mark.”

“Calculations made. Ready to jump. Captain, the Aepetor’s captain is demanding to speak to you, and insisting we comply with his orders to escort us to Netherstorm Station.”

“Jump.”

(Netherstorm Station, Dimiya orbit, Dimiya System)

Five hours later, the First Group of the Black Star Navy entered Dimiya orbit and uncloaked, with the Shinokage at the head. The only non-Black Star ship in the formation was the Luvon Gilrie, whose captain was no doubt feeling quite a bit conflicted at the moment. But there was nothing for that. Right now, I was standing on the main bridge of the Shinokage, watching as Captain Inatumal went about the business of the short in-system run.

The comms officer looked up from his screen. “We’re being challenged by the station.”

When the Captain looked at me, I nodded once, and then looked at the main screen. “Patch me through, broadcast in the clear. Don’t deliberately send it to everyone in the system, but don’t keep anyone who wants to listen from hearing what we say. Main screen, if you will.”

When the controller for the Navy’s section of the station appeared on the screen, I cut him off before he could get two words out of his mouth. “This is Admiral Mirikon Mollen of the Black Star Navy. Rear Admiral Ayre Sylsalor of the Confederate Navy sent a ship requesting my presence for a conference on Netherstorm Station. Unfortunately, I had some items to take care of. Let the Admiral know if he still wishes to have a conference, he is more than welcome to visit the CNS Luvon Gilrie, detached on assignment to the Black Star Navy, and we can have the discussion there. Or I can continue on with my day. I am a very busy man, after all, and do not have time for asinine political games or dick beating contests. Admiral Mollen, out.” I looked to the side, and made a motion for the comms officer to cut the transmission.

(CNS Luvon Gilrie, Dimiya Orbit)

Rear Admiral Sylsalor was NOT pleased. First the damn business man playing naval commander had the gall to refuse the Aepetor’s escort to Netherstorm Station, and then he appeared with half his damn fleet, appearing out of nowhere, proving once again that the Navy couldn’t track his ships if they didn’t want to be tracked! And to top it off, the bastard transmitted his response in the clear, without any encryption at all! His office was already fielding calls from the news outlets, and he even had to deal with that annoying senator who used to be part of the Shining Path faction until she’d been linked to Mollen romantically.

The bastard had too many friends and too much influence. And now that insufferable Nomad had suggested publicly that he was wasting his time and playing political games with him! The unmitigated gall of the man! Fortunately, they were on a Confederate ship now, even if it was just a corvette. The Admiral who had arranged the ‘training program’ was a rival, but he could still order the crew to do what was needed, if it came to that. This Nomad needed to be properly leashed before he got out of control. And then they could nationalize his company and get the benefits of Black Star’s technology without the annoying Nomads.

As his shuttle docked with the Luvon Gilrie, Captain Zylna and her first officer were there, and saluted him. “Admiral Sylsalor, welcome to the Luvon Gilrie. Admiral Adkian has ordered me to remind you that the Luvon Gilrie is currently on detached assignment to the Black Star Navy, answering to Admiral Mollen, and that orders contrary to that must be cleared through him before implementation. I’m also ordered to say that Admiral Adkian wishes to express his displeasure at your conduct with this affair so far.”

It was all Sylsalor could do to maintain his composure. Damn that Adkian! Why was the Admiral in charge of Naval Intelligence interfering with him? And he was the one who had approved the detachment of the Luvon Gilrie to the Black Stars for ‘training’ in the first place! Damn him to the infinite Abyss! Still, he did not let his anger show. It was not correct to act in such a way in front of his subordinates. Zylna had made it clear that these were orders she had received from higher, and not the Captain trying to insult an Admiral. He would save his anger for those who deserved it.

“Very well, Captain. Lead the way.”

Zylna nodded sharply, and turned to lead the way with her first officer. “Unfortunately, the only room on an Assassin-class corvette large enough for the number of people attending is the mess hall. However, Admiral Mollen has provided food and refreshment from his private stores for the meeting.”

Sylsalor said nothing as he and his aide with their two guards followed behind the Gilrie’s officers, quietly fuming inside. When the reached the mess hall, Sylsalor was outraged to see Admiral Mollen already seated at the table, his aides next to him, eating a leg of roast catir. With his hands, no less! Not even with silverware like a gentleman would! As he approached the table, Sylsalor grimaced in distaste as the man simply wiped a hand on a napkin before offering it to the Admiral. Uncivilized barbarian!

Deliberately mistaking the offered hand for an invitation to sit, Sylsalor sat down at the table, and looked at the stuffed up cretin. “Mister Mollen—”

“Admiral. Admiral Mollen. Mister Mollen is who you would talk to if you were making a purchase of new ships or any of the Black Star Company’s other fine consumer and military products. It is my understanding that you are here to try and enlist the Black Star Navy to fight for you. Thus, you will address me as Admiral Mollen, or we don’t have anything to talk about.”

(Mirikon POV)

I had to keep myself from smiling as the admiral’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared at being cut off in the middle of his speech. There were two ways to deal with someone who liked to play power games, trying to provoke you into weakening your position. You either sat back and took it for as long as you could, or you preempted them, and started turning their games on them, so that you undermined how important they were. Frankly, I wasn’t in his chain of command, and I didn’t need this job to continue making money, so I had no reason to simply take whatever he was dishing out.

The Admiral did a good job of mastering his expression, though, and said, “Very well, Admiral Mollen.” (It was amazing how much scorn he put into my title.) “As you may be aware, there has been a surge in piracy of late in the outlying sectors of the Confederacy, well beyond the normal rates. With the Kul’Tiras Mercenary Group withdrawing or being relieved of many security contracts in the Free Worlds Alliance and other companies taking their place, the normal enforcement routines are not enough to dissuade the pirates, and they have been getting bolder of late in that sector of the frontier.”

I pretended as though I was considering what he said, nodding slowly. “Yes, I have heard reports of increased pirate activity along the borders. The Nomad information networks have been positively buzzing with how ineffective the Navy has been at curbing the upswing of piracy in the area. More than one group suggested that I involve myself in that mess, but I told them that, without a contract requesting the Black Star Navy to enter the area for that purpose, the best we could do would be to offer training and advice to the crews of the Assassins the Navy purchased from us while we prepare for our next expedition into unknown space.”

I leaned forward to look at Sylsalor, and said, “Now, since you are here to contract Black Star, what is the nature of the contract that you wish us to take on? That will determine the rates we’ll be charging, naturally.”

Sylsalor said, “It will be the standard mercenary contract, of course. You go where the Navy tells you and shoot those we designate. The fees—”

“No. If you wanted a standard mercenary outfit, then you came to the wrong group. Perhaps you should speak with the Kul’Tirans? I hear that they have a lot of time on their hands and are desperate for credits after the last job they took in Confederate space turned sour on them and had all kinds of nasty repercussions.”

“You! I’ll have you know—”

“Now, if you want the premier mercenary group in the Confederacy to go and solve your problem, then you are not going to get us for the bottom of the barrel prices you typically offer, and it will not be an open-ended contract giving you the ability to order Black Star to commit atrocities for you.” I paused, and smiled, “Oh, I did mention that this negotiation is being recorded, right?”