The Imperial Protectorate of Dostoevsky was not a unified world. On the twenty percent of the world's surface not covered with water, which consisted of approximately five thousand small landmasses of a hundred square kilometers or more. There was only one major continent, spanning the northern polar cap. This was the spot that the ninety-two sovereign states of the planet chose to house their United Nations Headquarters, since the landmass was only inhabitable with application of interstellar technology and nobody had settled it properly before the Third Imperium offered the world a protectorate status. While nominally there was a central government, the member states largely ran their own affairs. This confederation came close to war several times over petty squabbles, but the very existence of a putative hierarchy gave the Imperials a plausible target to do diplomacy with.
The headquarters was a marvel of relatively advanced antigravity technology, rising hundreds of meters above the permanent sheet of ice of the pole. Its highest level housed the Chamber of Representatives, where the ninety-two member states officially discussed matters of import, watched over from a viewer gallery above them.
"I yield ground to the honorable Father Yosef, Court Chaplain of the Tyrian Kingdom, here in his capacity as official envoy of his sovereign," said the Marshall of the Assembly, letting Yosef ascend to the podium. Hundreds of eyes focused on him.
"Honored representatives, respected administration members and assembled spectators," he intoned, his voice amplified in the room by an advanced internal sound system. "I come before you with a dire warning, and a request – but first and foremost, the first."
Like he has done repeatedly now, Yosef briefed the gathered heads of state on the current events involving the adventurer calling himself the Lord Admiral, and the danger he posed to the continued relative peace in the region, stressing his aggressive stance and potential ownership of working Ancient artifacts, making him a credible threat to not only one system, but everyone who happened to have the misfortune of living nearby. He didn't prolong his speech, in order to preclude the listeners getting bored and ceasing to pay attention, and was done in under ten minutes.
"So, the request that I would make on behalf of my liege lord is this: Help us, and in helping us, help yourselves. Aid us in repelling this invasion, before it gathers steam. Individually, we may be weak, but together, we can be strong! We can defeat this menace if we but close ranks and face him when he arrives, as I am certain he will soon – if he hadn't already."
A man in one of the middle rows pressed his speaking button. "Mister Yosef," he said, without bothering with formalities. "I have heard your story – because it is a story at this point – and I asked myself, why should I believe you? We have no quarrel with Tyr, but we also don't have any dogs in this fight, so to speak. If there even is a fight, even! Do you have proof that what you say is true?"
"Yes, indeed, I do," replied Yosef. "I am sending everyone here our after-action findings following the Battle of Tyr. As you can see if you but check, we have communication logs saying without doubt that this warlord is preparing an invasion of the Sindalian main. And if he is planning that, Dostoevsky may be next."
"'If' being the operative word here. Computer data can be faked, and easily."
"Let's not forget that we aren't part of the main. We are also an Imperial Protectorate," noted a woman in the front row. "He wouldn't dare to attack us."
"If he exists," pressed the man.
"The danger's real!" exclaimed another man, from the other side of the chamber. "The Imperium cannot protect us, we are just too far away. We need to strengthen our forces, and seek local alliances, just like the man is saying!"
"Stop injecting your anti-Imperial secessionism into everything," a fellow from the back objected, rising from his seat.
"It's relevant here!" the anti-Imperial representative said. "This picket we have is barely capable of keeping out pirates, let alone turn back an invasion. Our few system defense ships are not enough."
"He has a point," said the front-row woman. "But even if the Imperium cannot protect us immediately, attacking us would mean a serious breach of sphere of influence."
"If this threat exists," repeated the denialist. "We have far too little trustworthy information, and we won't believe you at your word," he said to Yosef.
"Speak for yourself," harrumphed the secessionist. "I believe him, and we need to act now."
"We don't need to do anything hasty, unlike this repetitive idiot!" countered the back-row man.
"What did you call me?!"
"I called you an idiot, because that's what you are, an idiotic, bottom-feeding, alarmist, bull-headed, urchibod idiot!"
"We don't use that word!" shrieked the woman. "The urchibods deserve better than this, you colossal dick!"
Yosef watched this exchange with incredulity and increasing alarm. The Marshall of the Assembly pushed past him.
"Order! Order! Order!" he shouted into the microphone.
For his troubles, he was rewarded with a fruit – and not a soft one, either – launched at him. It made a sharp bonk sound as it impacted his head, knocking the politician out. Yosef was already hurriedly leaving the stage, in the direction of the back exit, as a gigantic free-for-all was beginning in the assembly chamber. Three loose coalitions formed with uncanny speed – the secessionists, the Imperials, and a third group that obviously disliked both equally. Bodyguards of various politicians and heads of state leapt from the balcony overhead, some supported by antigravity devices, some simply diving and hoping for the best, as the Headquarters' own guard rushed in through the entrances to form a fourth party to the conflict.
Yosef did not stay to watch, only prayed for their souls, and that nobody die in the melee.
ooo
"I should have warned you, perhaps," said Arthur. "The local politicians and nobility aren't exactly on too friendly terms with each other."
"I knew that beforehand," said Yosef. "I can use the shipboard library as well as you can. What wasn't in the official description is that they apparently like to hold brawls every other meeting. That could have helped somewhat to know, but I'm not sure if it would. There is no actual central authority to appeal to here. I can only that the next assembly will feel less inclined to set at each others' throats, and more inclined to listen to reason."
"I wouldn't bet on it."
"Then what do you propose we do? Give up and go somewhere else?"
"Not yet. I've managed to book a meeting at the research base."
"You mean with the Imperials."
"Yup. We're going for a meeting with the head researcher and the commander of the local Imperial picket. I am fairly certain these two will not get into a fistfight over perceived wrongs."
Before Yosef could reply, the airlock chimed the conclusion of its cycle.
Arthur already had a gun in his had, which was momentarily surprising to Yosef. Then he realized that they didn't hear anyone ring the intercom, requesting entry.
"Anyone home?" came Kaarin's voice. "Hello!"
Arthur stowed his firearm, just before the Captain appeared at the far end of the corridor, steadfastly plodding along, supported by a medical cane on each arm. His legs barely moved at all, and he was visibly stressed by the ordeal, but nonetheless seemed content to walk on his own.
"Kaarin! Welcome back! Are you sure you are supposed to be walking around so soon?" Yosef asked, going over to him, in order to help him on the way to the common room.
"It will be a cold day in hell when I stay in a hospital an hour longer than I need to," said Kaarin, plopping down on the couch.
"You look adequately well," commented Arthur.
"I feel like I'm made of poorly-fit prefabricated components," complained Kaarin. "But I'll live. The important parts are the same, and I'm getting the hang of walking under my own power. It's a bitch, but I can get from place to place."
"Good thing you don't need to walk around much when captaining the ship," said Yosef.
"Yeah, but I'll have to practice anyway. I intend to be fully functional as soon as possible, if not considerably sooner. What's up? What's the mission status? What's the plan?"
Yosef grimaced. "Appealing to the United Nations of Dosotoevsky was a bust, and will likely remain a bust for the forseeable future." He told the Captain about the brawl in the assembly chamber.
Kaarin whistled. "I wish I could have been there. It's not every day you get to see a bunch of political lowlifes sic each other."
"That's very uncharitable of you, Captain, but not altogether untrue. I believe you can get a holo recording of the event from multiple angles on the planetary network."
"Remind me to download that before we leave the system, so I have something extra to entertain me in-jump. What's next on the agenda?"
"Meeting with the Imperial representatives here, the commander of the picket, and the head researcher at the underwater research base."
"When?"
"First thing in the morning."
"I'll make sure the ship is ready for underwater action, then. I called Ms. Engineer ahead and had her collect my low-berth from the hospital. She should be here in an hour or two. In the meantime, I get to sit here and direct an inspection of the 'Imminent Misjump', with you two acting as my hands and feet," Kaarin stated the immediate plan, getting hold of his datapad and connecting to the ship's internal radio communications network. "We'll start with the hull integrity diagnostics..."
ooo
"'Imminent Misjump', you are cleared for take-off and approach of Research Base Delta," said the traffic control dispatcher. "You are also freely advised that it is possible re-register your ship's name at the Imperial Embassy."
"I'll keep that under advisement, traffic control. 'Imminent Misjump' out," said Kaarin, hanging up. "What does everyone have against the name? Jeez."
"Maybe they think it lacks a certain gravitas," opined Yosef.
"Maybe they think it's tempting fate," opined Arthur.
"It's both, I already explained."
The ship gracefully lifted off the launch pad at the Imperial starport, without disturbing its passengers in any fashion, thanks to the gravitic compensation system. They were going roughly directly up.
"The research base is on the opposite side of the planet, according to this map we got," Kaarin told them. "So we're not going to fly around in the atmosphere like dweebs. I'll take a shortcut through low orbit, where I can pull a decent speed without roasting us alive."
"We'll miss seeing the local agriculture," said Yosef. "It's a pity, because the seafarms I've read about are quite interesting, especially from the perspective of a dry worlder like myself."
"They're not that interesting," said Arthur. "Just a bunch of green splotches, floating fences and water-sifting ships."
"You've been here before then."
"Yes."
"I suppose it's classified as part of your job, then?"
"Yes."
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"Yes."
Yosef laughed.
"Are you two done?" said Kaarin, rolling his eyes. "Don't make we wave my cane at you two. How's the situation in there, Engineering?" he used the intercom.
"All systems functioning within tolerances, sir," said Sai Marte from the other end.
"Does that mean we're good, or does that mean that we'll survive for the time being, but I shouldn't be betting on anything past another hour?"
"Sir, the ship is functioning properly. All repairs have been carried out in full accordance with the specifications and applicable standards. There is no reason to fear the ship falling apart, sir."
"That's what I wanted to hear. Keep up the good work, there, PO."
"Yes, sir!"
They've exited the planet's overly carbonated atmosphere, and swung around opposite to its spin, plunging back into the airy cloak above the indicated location of the research base. Starships being airtight by design and capable of surviving exposure to a gas giant's tumultuous upper layers, a spell of diving beneath the waves was no great feat. The crew felt that one, as the compensation only softened the blow of the scoutship piercing the surface, rather than completely obliterating the shock.
"We're under," announced Kaarin.
"Sensors set to auditory and visual," said Arthur from the computer room. "I'm picking up the research base's beacon. Mapping onto your plot, Captain."
Kaarin oriented the ship towards the new waypoint and stepped on it. The 'Imminent Misjump's' streamlined wedge shape enabled them to cut through water almost as easily as through air, leaving behind a huge wake of bubbles. Five kilometers straight down sped past in seconds. Kaarin slowed down when they got within a single kilometer of the indicated location.
"We've got visual," indicated Arthur.
Research Base Delta was quite a sight – although few ever saw it properly, given the almost complete lack of solar illumination at the depth – being a sort of small city of skyscrapers and transparent domes sitting on the edge of a gigantic undersea crevice. The human eye could not properly see it whole, despite the artificial lights dotting the structures. Various small submersible craft zoomed about the place. Kaarin guided his ship towards a docking ring, much like those on highports in space.
"IISS 'Imminent Misjump', this is Research Station Delta," crackled the radio. "You're arrival is noted. We have been forewarned. Please proceed to docking berth C."
"Acknowledged, Research Station Delta. Coming in to dock at berth C."
ooo
"What do they research here, again, Arthur?" Kaarin asked as they waited for the airlock to cycle.
"You saw that fissure on the side? There's a wreck of an Ancient starship down there."
"Can't be in good condition, with it being under so much damn water."
"It's not, as far as I know," Arthur shrugged. "Between the water pressure, the passage of three hundred millennia, and the fact that it appears to have crash landed on this world, it's actually in remarkably good shape."
"Me, I'm impressed with you being so forthright about supposed Imperial secrets," Yosef remarked.
Arthur smiled. "I am given broad discretion concerning disclosure of less important classified details."
The airclock completed its cycle, letting the three of them into the research base's interior – Sai was volunteered to stay behind on the ship in case something unforeseen happened, such as a sudden loss of welcome on the undersea station. They were greeted by an Imperial security detail. After being positively identified as who they were supposed to be, they were escorted deeper into the bowels of the facility, their speed adjusted so that Kaarin could keep pace, hobbling along. For all its prestigious character as a place of learning of the most advanced civilization ever to grace the known region of space, the interior looked very nondescript, like an arbitrary starship interior.
The guards led them past numerous closed doors and a few intersections, concluding their short trek at a conference room.
"The Commodore and Dr. Hart will be here presently," said the leader of the escort. "Make yourselves at home."
"Far too much water to be home," said Kaarin, but sat down all the same and poured himself a cup of stim from a provided container. Arthur and Yosef followed suit.
The other party took several minutes to arrive.
First came in the Imperial navy officer, a gaunt man of uncertain age and emotionless outward appearance. Following him was an almost stereotypical researcher – grey haired, advanced in the process of balding top-down, labcoat-wearing, and sporting several visible augments on his head, including an artificial eye, an ear replacement and a wafer jack.
Arthur and Kaarin stood up and saluted – while they were all in different branches in service of the Emperor, it was polite to do so.
"At ease," said the military man reflexively, without emotion. "Commodore Alan Hayes."
"Doctor Hamed Hart, Esquire," introduced himself the researcher.
"Arthur, Imperial Intelligence," the agent introduced himself.
"Whereas I am Father Yosef, Court Chaplain of Tyr, here in my capacity as official envoy of the the King. My companion with the canes is Captain Kaarin Sanders, of the Imperial Interstellar Scout Service."
"We're aware who you are," said the Commodore, seating himself opposite the trio, with the scientist taking place by his side. "I also have my suspicions why you are here, but tell us anyway."
"It feels as though I've told the same story far too many times, with far too little effect," confessed Yosef. "Nonetheless..."
The priest proceeded to lay out the short version of the imminent threat to the Sindalian main, and the entire Trojan Reach. While the officer remained unimpressed, the researcher looked troubled.
"Any hypothetical conquest of Dostoevsky would play merry hell with our work here. We can't allow that to happen, obviously," said Dr. Hart.
"Any enemy attempting to conquer the system first needs to get through my task force, and the local defense forces of the protectorate," said the Commodore calmly. "I've followed the debate in the assembly. I have also reviewed available data. I believe that the threat exists."
"Finally, some headway on this problem!" Kaarin balled his fists.
"However, I am disinclined to remove the forces stationed here in order to reinforce other systems."
"Damn it!" the scout slammed his fists into the table. "He's going to pick us off, defeat in detail style, while we're divided."
"I understand that risk, Captain," said the navyman. "But my first priority is protecting Dostoevsky, and Dostoevsky's research station. Protection of unaffiliated states the region, while certainly a concern per my mandate, are strictly secondary to keeping this facility safe."
"Commodore," said Dr. Hart, "I am not reassured that you can, with just the forces at your disposal, meet this threat when it chooses to come to you."
"I wasn't aware you studied naval tactics, doctor." The tone in which he said it differed not at all from everything else he had said. Kaarin thought the ability to remain perfectly calm was uncanny. One could not easily tell what was it that the officer intended to convey, outside of the nominal face value of the statement.
"Oh, years and years ago," the researcher waved a hand. "I was drafted as a strapping young man, and served a term as an engineer on a capital ship. I picked up a thing or two."
"Nonetheless, I am quite certain that the Black Swan and my frigates can take a mere two-thousand ton converted freighter."
"Even if it uses Ancient technology?" Yosef leaned in, raising an eyebrow. "We don't know exactly how much of working artifacts he has, but he does have some."
"Nec Hercules contra plures," said the Commodore.
Arthur and Kaarin raised eyebrows, mildly confused by the unfamiliar phrase. Yosef explained: "It's a Terran expression. It means something to the effect of 'even the mightiest strongman is laid low by numbers'. It has a literal meaning, but I don't think you'd be familiar with Terran prehistorical paganism."
"I'm impressed!" said the researcher. "Very few people know these things these days. I myself taught that one to the Commodore. Commodore, I would invite you to consider the following scenario – suppose you have a proper capital ship at your disposal, and the opposing force consists of scoutships, mining boats and small armed traders. How many do you think you can take before their numbers become overwhelming?"
The Commodore's eyes narrowed. "Arbitrary amounts. They would likely be unable to deal my ship enough damage quickly enough that the damage control crews couldn't handle it, unless they were supremely well coordinated, which is unlikely given the difficulty rises with every vessel involved in maneuvering. I might still lose, if they are lucky, but they need luck to even survive. I just need to be not entirely unlucky."
"Yes, I thought so. Suppose that the difference in class between your flagship and the Lord Admiral's is as that between converted freighters and a capital ship?"
"Impossible."
"My team has a rule of thumb concerning the Ancients – nothing is impossible for them."
"If that man truly has a ship that could take a capital ship, then our help is pointless, short of calling reinforcements from Tobia," concluded the Commodore. "Nothing you have said so far has given me good reasons to leave my post here, and go off help you against an enemy that might not even be interested in picking a fight with the Imperium, whose plans we know only in the barest of outlines, and whose capabilities – while historically considerable – remain opaque. I would rather send for help to the Duke of Tobia, and go on a peacekeeping intervention, than removing my forces from this system."
Kaarin resisted the urge to facepalm.
"Is there truly nothing we can get here, in terms of help in our struggle?" Yosef asked pleadingly.
"I didn't say that and the Commodore especially did not say that," said Dr. Hart. "Even if the Commodore is unwilling to commit his force, there are perhaps ways in which I, in my capacity as head researcher of this base, can aid you. For one, I can offer the good Captain help with his injuries, whatever they are, since I very much doubt the backwards butchers on the surface could do a good job of anything."
"They're not so bad," said Kaarin. "Look, I can wiggle my legs a bit, and can walk slowly if supported. Compared to a wheelchair, this is heaven on earth. I can pilot a starship without issue."
"Be that as it may, if they released you before making sure your cloned tissues were integrated, they did a poor job."
"They don't have cloning. At least not where I received care," said Kaarin. "It's all prosthetics."
Dr. Hart blinked, then sighed. "Barbarians. Truly barbarians. We don't quite have facilities to take you apart and put you back together again – this isn't a medical research lab – but I can have the base physician take a look at your prosthetics and maybe find some way to accelerate rehabilitation."
"Well, I would be thankful, doctor!" Kaarin said.
"Glad to help, this probably won't take more than a day. While you're here, all of you, feel free to talk to anyone below level three clearance. If there's anything you can think of concerning how I can help you protect our continued research without disturbance by wars, do let me know."
"Thank you, doctor. We do appreciate this gesture, and will submit any requests we have," Yosef said.
"Are we done here?" the Commodore asked, matter-of-factly.
"I believe so. I'll have the security captain show you around and give you access to guest quarters for the night," said the researcher, standing up. "Ahead of time, I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours. Now if you'll excuse me, I have the sum total of human knowledge to expand."
ooo
"This isn't quite the standard I had gotten used to on Caldos," remarked Kaarin, stretching out on a cot in the salon of the three-bedroom apartment they received as their guest quarters. Space was obviously at a premium on the station, which made the lodgings quite extravagant enough. "I mean, we'll practically have to share rooms when Sai gets here from the ship!"
"Don't be ungrateful, Captain. There are quite enough beds and chambers here that nobody will be forced to share a location with anyone they particularly dislike having to sleep next to. Instead, enjoy that you aren't being accused of trying to murder the local ruler," admonished Yosef.
"Yet."
"I have excellent hopes that our stay here will not end in disaster, and my prayers are to that effect."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not trying to find problems that aren't there."
"Speaking of problems, I think we should focus on the one we already have. Namely, getting aid. The Commodore refuses to send ships, but may be inclined to send word to the nearest Imperial navy base, so that they send us a cruiser or three. The good doctor Hart is not in a position to help us much, but has offered us anything we can talk out of the junior researchers. That's something, at least."
"Not that I'm not grateful and all," said Kaarin, concentrating meanwhile on slowly raising one of his legs with very limited success, "but that's probably not much of help. It does help me to become a functional person again, I suppose, but it didn't impair me much from doing my job as a glorified chauffeur for you."
Sai Marte chose this moment to arrive at their quarters, carrying a duffel bag of personal effects.
"Sir, the ship is securely locked down," she said.
"Good. Pick a room, any room," Kaarin waved at the entrances to the bedrooms.
"As the only woman among us, you get to have the luxury of a private bedroom," said Yosef. "We men can find ourselves with what is left."
"Yes, sir." She went off to the nearest room, briefly inspected it to her liking, dumped the bag there and returned to the salon with a datapad in hand.
"So. Plans. You got any ideas, Engi?" Kaarin looked at his anorexic subordinate.
"Um. Concerning our plans on what to do after we leave here, sir?"
"Yeah. Got any input you'd like to share?"
Sai Marte seemed to brace herself, as though she were to give a speech to a crowd of millions. "Yes. Sir." She put the datapad on the table and produced a holographic projection – one of the early ones, obviously not real – of the nearby stars. "Dostoevsky is separated from every nearby system by a two-parsec gap. Two-nine-one-dash-five-four-zero is uninhabited. Janus and Torrance are very sparsely populated and don't have spacefaring capability of their own. One is Caldos. Lacidaeus is the last world, which consists of a single inhabited planetoid. Population is estimated at fifty million. They have spacefaring capability, but do not field any navy, and prefer to defend their with ground-based installations."
"That's only the immediate systems, though," said Kaarin. "I wish this weren't so urgent. I'd have gone to the Florians or the Imperium myself. But by then it'd all be too late."
"Probably," shrugged Yosef. "We should decide between one of the two – Lacidaeus, or Caldos."
"And why exactly would we go to Caldos again?"
"Because there are two more polities there that might be more favourably inclined towards us. So far as I know, they have generally similar capabilities as the Mycians, and each has their own chunk of the star system claimed."
"Getting in stealthily will be a bitch. No stealth in space, right, Engi?"
"Yes, sir. We cannot make the approach to the world without being detected in most circumstances," Sai said.
"'Most circumstances'... pardon me for not being well-versed in the technical side of ship operations, but care to explain why we can't just sneak in?" Yosef inquired.
"Yes, sir. Ships generate a lot of heat, and that heat stands out strongly against the near-absolute-zero of background space. Much of the ship's life support system handles radiating that heat to space, where it cannot cook the crew."
"Can't you just radiate it in one direction?"
"Only works up to the moment when someone looks at us from an angle that isn't directly ahead of us," Kaarin noted. He sat up with some difficulty. "We do system scans while en-route to and from a planet, or when refueling in the wild. It's not hard to pick up sensor buoys. There were plenty of those in the Caldos system. Not all of them were Mycian, probably, but I'll bet something like one-third probably were. Plus, there's the jump exit."
"What about the jump exit?"
"Sai?"
"Yes, sir. The jump exit is a highly energetic phenomenon. When the ship emerges from jumpspace, some of radiation naturally occurring in that dimension leaks out into realspace. This can be easily detected, even more easily so than a starship."
"Couldn't we then, I don't know, leave jumpspace somewhere hidden? Like behind a gas giant?"
"The Caldos system has four gas giants, one in the inner system and three in the outer system, sir," helpfully noted Sai.
Kaarin frowned in thought. "Well... I guess that would work. There weren't any anomalous pings that far out, if I recall. Yeah, this could work! Jump into the outer system, with a plot to come out in the shadow of the farthest gas giant in there. Take a detour to refuel at that one, damning anyone who disagrees about wild refuelling. Use it as a slingshot into the inner system." He paused. "That still leaves the problem of getting the ship to the surface without being spotted and torn to shreds. I read the logs and I don't want to repeat what happened when you left the system. The Mycians are too well armed for us."
"Can we disguise the ship?" Yosef asked, continuing the brainstorm.
"Could have it repainted at the starport. But if they get a good sensor look at us, they'll probably realize who we are. Engi," Kaarin turned to Sai. "Take a tour of the facility. Talk to every researcher you can find about stuff that could help us get in and out of the Caldos system, anything they have. Cloaking fields, teleporters, anything. You have time until they've fixed me up tomorrow."
"Yes, sir!" Sai gathered up her datapad, and left the apartment.
"Yosef, those were good ideas. I appreciate the input."
"Any special assignments for me?"
"Figure out where Arthur has gone off to."
"You certainly saved the worst assignments for the old man," sighed the priest. "I'll see what I can do. When did you see him last? I recall him being with us when we were shown to our quarters here."
"He excused himself and went off somewhere after that. I don't know where. His comm isn't answering. I mean, he's not technically part of the crew, just some random Imperial agent who we've taken in for a ride on the 'Misjump', but I'd like to know what the hell he's doing. I'm damn sure he didn't just excuse himself to take a piss, because there's a bathroom right here."
"You don't trust him?"
"Not farther than I can toss him, and, well, I can't toss things were well in my condition now."
"I think you're being overly paranoid, Captain. If I am any judge of character, I'd say he's a decent man under all that cloak-and-dagger facade."
"It won't hurt to check. If he's really an Imperial agent, then he'll appreciate us doing our due diligence with regards to verifying that he isn't some kind of mole, traitor or scammer just taking us for a ride."
Yosef sighed. "I will do as you ask. I'll find out where he is."
ooo
Blissfully unaware of his comrades distrust – albeit maintaining a healthy level of suspicion towards them as he did of anyone – Arthur met with a young technician in the bowels of the engineering section of the research base on Dostoevsky. He couldn't quite leave the place, without arousing suspicion and without taking altogether too much time to get anywhere. The 'Imminent Misjump' was the fastest thing docked at it, besides the Commodore's shuttle, and he unfortunately did not get free access to either.
"Did you bring it?" he asked him.
"Uh, bring what? Who are you?" the acne-pocked man asked, visibly sweating in the air-conditioned atmosphere.
"Don't play dumb. You came here to repay a favour owed, and I'm the one who you are going to repay it to."
"She didn't say anything about someone else collecting this."
"You've already let slip that you know why I'm here," Arthur pressed. "No covert operative material, you. Now, do you have the wafer? The data?"
The technician deflated. "Yes. I do. It's all here. The full personal dataset, via the shuttle's commlink to the destroyer. I just hope that you two are who you say you are, or this is high treason, and I'm going to be executed." He whipped out a standard data wafer.
Arthur took the wafer. "Only if anyone ever figures out that it was you who did the crack. Were you careless?"
"No! I'm the best. There's no trace of it, and it's plausible that the Commodore would want to access his files remotely. There's no way to connect it to me. I covered my tracks!"
"Then I believe you have nothing to fear," the agent smiled. "This settles your debt to us. However, we might still be in need of a good computer specialist – in exchange for appropriate recompense, this time. You could buy a great many things for a thick wad of Imperial Credits, you know."
"Geez, stop that. Don't contact me again. I gotta get back to my post, before someone notices I'm gone."
"You do that. Thanks for your cooperation."
Like a shadow, Arthur melted back into the shadows and mazes of tubes.
ooo
Yosef ordered a second glass of wine, which was remarkably palatable coming from the cantine of a research installation placed on the ocean floor, far away from anything else on the planet.
"By the way," he asked the bartender, a middle-aged woman, "have you seen a friend of mine. He's about average height, brown eyes, short-black hair. Sort of nondescript. Last I've seen him, he was wearing a dark blue spacer suit."
"Like that guy?" she pointed.
Yosef turned around on the stool, coming face-to-face with Arthur.
"'Speak of the Devil, and he is at your elbow'," said the agent. "Looking for me, Yosef?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. The Captain was looking for you. Said you'd disappeared after we've been shown to our lodgings. Are there any activities you would like me to know about? What have you been up to these past few hours?"
"Who, me?" Arthur exaggerated innocent surprise. "I was merely doing... certain things... at another location. Nothing important, just crossing t's and dotting i's, you know."
"I actually don't know, but you aren't going to tell me much more, are you now?"
Arthur smiled even more sweetly.
"Well, I guess my task is done, you having essentially found yourself. We've deliberated and decided to go back to Caldos at soonest opportunity and try to sneak into one of the rival factions of the world, to gain their support," Yosef conveyed. "Any comments you wish to have on that?"
"Oh, that seems like an adequate plan. Risky, but it might succeed," Arthur shrugged. "When are you – we – leaving?"
"As soon as the assorted medical personnel have had a look at Kaarin. He's sent Ms. Marte on a quest to find some technological gadget that might help us effectuate the infiltration."
"Did she succeed?"
"We don't know yet. I'm afraid we don't have the same efficiency at doing our things, as you have for doing your things."
"Obviously."
"Beer? Wine? Spirits? I'm sure you have some mysterious way of avoiding inebriation."
"Yes. I never drink."
"That must make infiltration a lot harder, then, if you can't get your targets drunk."
"I never said they don't drink," grinned Arthur.
Yosef shook his head. "This is going to be a fun couple of days."
ooo
"What's this then?" Kaarin pointed at the large crate in the common room. In the past thirty-six hours, he'd been dragged all across the station, had all his measurements taken in triplicate – it seemed like – and had wires applied to his body liberally. For what it was worth, all this annoyance actually seemed to have an effect. He was able to walk unaided now, the medical staff having calibrated the software that ran his life-and-function-sustaining implants. He couldn't run yet, but he felt certain he'd get there eventually, and it wasn't that important to him anyway.
"It's non-reflective coating for the ship, sir!" replied Sai. "Dr. Hart has given us enough to pain the ship twice over."
Kaarin did a quick mental calculation. "What? That's like fifteen megacreds worth!"
"Yes, sir."
"I guess it's cheaper than supplies for the picket force in active operations," he rubbed the side of his face. The new eye felt different, but he had gotten used to ignoring that. "Good. When can we get that applied?"
"As soon as we land somewhere dry, sir. It cannot be applied wet."
"The starport then," he nodded to himself. "Good. I'll gather the other two. Get the ship ready for departure as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir!"