black ship behind him. He had twelve torpedo ships and two K’Rang scouts to his credit for this campaign.
While he waited, he had Chief Miller survey the hull for damage. He did a clockwise walk and Chief Miller counter-clockwise. When they each made a full circle and met at the nose, they concluded that the ship was in good condition. It would need a paint job when they got back to Antares Base, but not much else.
Mary Chen and her sergeants positioned her Marines in accordance with a diagram Mr. Delvane provided. Her sergeants put down markers where key personnel would stand so that others would line up on them, in lines so straight you’d think they were laid with a laser. First Sergeant Don McMaster helped Chief Blankenship do the same for the Vigilant’s formation. Formations and marching were not Fleet strengths.
Mary Chen came over to Kelly. “I’m happy for your promotion, frocking, and command selection, but I really wanted to meet you as an equal. I had plans for you and me. Why did they have to make you a Lieutenant Commander?”
Kelly choked slightly and responded, “I had to be frocked to qualify for this command. If it’s any consolation, it was a surprise to me, too.”
“It isn’t any consolation. Here we are again in a war zone, too. I could get really pissed at the K’Rang. They are so inconvenient.”
Kelly’s communicator buzzed. It was Sensors, reporting that the probe just reported no change to the K’Rang fleet disposition. Kelly went to report to the admiral. Mary walked back to her marines in a less than rosy mood. First Sergeant McMaster warned those near him and they passed it back.
Friedrich Debran met with Roger Delphant in his office on board the executive transport. Mr. Debran was in an upbeat mood.
“Roger, I don’t know if you noticed that there were two yellow suns off to starboard as we made our approach. I would bet that our friends here haven’t made a proper survey or claim on any planets or exploitable asteroid belts that might be there. Get our usual survey specialists energized and in here quickly. I want those systems surveyed and filed with the GR courts as soon as possible — as in days Roger, not weeks.”
“Yes, Mr. Debran, I’ll see to it immediately. I know just who to contact.”
Mr. Debran thought to himself that there were trillions of credits to be made here if he could move quickly.
Chapter Fifteen
Steven Maynard met with Friedrich Debran in the main administrative building. Mr. Debran made no pleasantries and launched right into his presentation.
“Mr. Maynard, the one constant in the Galactic Republic is the need for more land and resources. Earth is over-populated. The original ten new worlds are approaching over-population, as are several of the second tier worlds. They are constantly seeking out new habitable worlds for settlement of excess population. They’re willing to pay generously for open land on which to settle these immigrants. I propose to make effective use of my contacts in the Galactic Republic, on your behalf, to offer land that you make available to me. I will collect all funds, arrange transport here, meet any planetary clearance procedures you establish, and settle the new immigrants here. When they are happily settled, I will provide you a complete accounting, and keep only a 30 % commission. Besides, with your surrender to the Galactic Republic, your supply of workers dries up.”
Steven Maynard studied Mr. Debran’s written proposal in front of him while he listened to the briefing. At Mr. Debran’s pause he said, “Mr. Debran, I like your proposal. There is one minor change we would like to make. We would like 300 million credits up front to ensure you are focused on our mutual benefit.”
Friedrich Debran stood up. “Do you think me a fool? It will be years before I’d make any return on that investment.”
“No, Mr. Debran, I do not think you a fool. Do not think me one, either. You stand to make trillions of credits from this agency. There is over 3 billion excess population on Earth and the ten first tier worlds and half that number in the second tier worlds you speak of. If you made only a credit per immigrant you would recoup your entire investment and then some in a few months. Of course, we both know you will receive much more than a credit per immigrant. 300 million is our price. Take it or leave it.”
Friedrich Debran had been a shrewd negotiator long enough to know when the negotiation was over. He had been willing to pay much more for this deal, so he was still coming out ahead. He reached his hand across the table to shake Steven’s hand and said, “We have a deal.”
In a few moments the necessary changes had been made, the credits transfer verified, and the deal signed. Both sides were happy.
Thorson returned by midday, and Steven pulled the lawyers into his office and began work on the surrender negotiation preliminaries. The Admiral waited patiently for an hour, then demanded the negotiations begin. Steven, Thorson, and the team of lawyers sat down at the conference table opposite Admiral Minacci, Kelly, and the 3rd ALG JAGs.
The negotiation went swiftly with Steven agreeing to every term the Fleet JAGs insisted on. Maynard’s lawyer offered a few changes to the document, mostly dealing with recognizing the existing government of Barataria and respect for its laws. By early evening, the documents had been verified by both teams of lawyers and agreed to for signature tomorrow at the surrender ceremony.
The Brotherhood’s lawyers also presented certified copies of Barataria’s non-aligned world charter, finalized filed claims on three adjacent solar systems, filed application for GR membership, and appointment of Francis Jesse Thorson as the Ambassador-at-Large for Baratarian and GR relationships.
Now all that was needed was the thumbprint acceptance tomorrow at midday, to make it all official. Roger Delvane sat down with Admiral Minacci’s protocol officer to iron out the details for the ceremony tomorrow, while Kelly and the admiral retired to the guest quarters that had been made available to them just across from the parade field. Steven Maynard had invited them to dinner at the best restaurant on Barataria, and Kelly had requested invitations for CPT Chen, LTJG Cortez, and Alistair.
While Kelly was changing he heard a knock on his door. He opened the door to see Mary Chen in her hot weather dress uniform. It featured a white hat and shirt worn outside the waistband of the red skirt, which showed off Mary’s shapely legs.
She strode by Kelly without asking. Kelly shrugged, closed the door, and continued getting dressed. He wore his blue-black pants and a T-shirt, having not yet put on his uniform shirt. Mary sat on the bed, smoothing her skirt to prevent wrinkles.
“What can I do for you, Mary?”
She laughed and said, “Well, I’ve been trying to get into your bed for a while now and this is as close as I’ve gotten. No, I got ready too soon and was becoming stir crazy in my room. I hate these events. I never know how to make polite conversation. I hope you don’t mind the company.”
“It’s alright. When in doubt, ask if the weather is normal. People love to talk about their weather to strangers. If that dries up, compliment them on something cultural you’ve seen as you’ve wandered around the city. I would recommend asking them about the ruins of the previous civilization. Ruin View is the name of the restaurant.”
She shifted slightly on the bed, causing her skirt to hike up and expose more of her nice legs. She said, “Thanks, I’ll use those. As you might have imagined, my Dad was not big on protocol or niceties. He was a legend in the Marines, but not for his tact or diplomacy.”
Kelly pulled on his shirt, buttoned it, and tucked it in. Mary got up off the bed to help him get it tucked evenly across the back. When they both looked in the mirror and were satisfied with their appearance, they left the room.
Alistair and Connie were in the corridor. Kelly had noticed the two becoming quite chummy in the last week. He wished them the best. Their duties wouldn’t allow much chance to be together after Alistair was delivered back to his ship. The Vigilant’s patrol schedule and the wide-ranging assignments of a Reporting Officer would make future meetings rare. They looked happy in each other’s company, so Kelly kept his thoughts to himself.
