Galactic Freighter: Scourge of the Deep Space Pirates (Contact) (32 page)

The doors opened and a Kalazecis, in what passed for a suit, motioned Mahoney inside. His aide remained standing in the hallway.

Inside a small conference room, thirty or so similarly dressed Kalazecis, except for two in civilian dress, sat around an oversized table, eyes locked on Mahoney.

He gave a nod and took the offered chair at the head of the table. At least a meter separated his chair from those on either side. Again, he nodded at the Kalazecis seated at his side. So far, not one word had passed between his hosts and him.

"I am Ziloc, Sub-Minister to the Foreign Minister," the host said somewhat haughtily and "this is Cyz, Sub-Minister to the War Minister." He turned to face Mahoney. "Your request for ships and Pagmok—why do you want them? What do you plan to do that requires our help?" The thin but smartly dressed Sub-Foreign Minister and Sub War Minister carried star shaped jewels affixed to their suit coats. Apparently, the gems gave some indication of rank.

Following the lead, Mahoney kept his voice subdued. "I am Jarred Mahoney. Up until four years ago, passages as you reckon, I owned a world not unlike Myslac. Enemies have unjustly taken what is mine and I intend to take it back." He took his time relating how events had come to this point and intentionally omitted the loss of Woodall some six T-years earlier. Fryman and Sebastian burned in his mind and that meant Katakan.

"What is the name of this person who you say committed these hostile acts?" Ziloc asked as the heads around the table nodded.

"Buckley Fryman." Mahoney saw no reason not to tell them. They would know soon enough. With carefully chosen words, he had his say.

"Your word is all we have that this claim is justified."

Mahoney laid a chip on the table. "You can verify that everything is as I have said." He pushed the chip toward the Kalazecis.

"Why should we risk our ships and Pagmok warriors?"

"I am asking you to make good on your promise after we saved your ship and crew." Mahoney’s voice carried a tinge of hardness. Taking them to a human world was out of the question so that meant repairing the Kalazecis ship. What he didn't tell them, his crew wanted none of the Pagmok aboard their ship.

"You test me," countered Ziloc with an equal tone.

Mahoney leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. He had studied Kalazecis behavior contained in the information obtained from the Kalazecis ship years earlier. In negotiations, any indication of compromise they took as weakness.

"This Buckley Fryman, who is he?" Ziloc asked as he brushed his long black hair from his shoulder.

Mahoney scooted around in his chair attempting to find a comfortable position. The sub-minister smiled, at least what passed for a grin.

"I need a larger chair." Taking a lesson from Evans' earlier maneuver, Mahoney stood. Even that move he understood amounted to an insult to a Kalazecis of Ziloc's stature.

Ziloc jumped to his feet. At least a head and a half shorter, he stepped back, anger clearly dominated his eyes. Mahoney, arms crossed over his chest stoically looked out a window and waited.

Not a soul moved. After what seemed an interminable time, Ziloc pressed the comm on his belt and ordered a larger chair.

They resumed their seats, and Mahoney, as if nothing had happened, spent the better part of an hour listing all the grievances he harbored against Fryman and, to himself, admitted most amounted to embellishments. Many of his accusations should have named Sebastian as the cause but accusing another monarch might spell trouble.

"A hauler of freight? You fear a commoner, someone who follows others orders?"

"Fryman cannot be trusted and is not to be underestimated. His treachery has permitted him to hone his fighting skills,” Mahoney muttered. It would take at least two, more like three of your Pagmok to handle him," Mahoney said tried to sound convincing.

"You have never seen our warriors in a fight," Ziloc retorted matching the mock.

"Fryman stands at least two heads taller than a Pagmok and heavier by three times." Mahoney had neglected to mention Fryman's elevation to lordship, that he was now arguably the second wealthiest Ionian, and owned a large number of very sophisticated spacecraft. In fact, he never told Ziloc the man's home world and hoped the Kalazecis wouldn't ask.

That description of Fryman seemed to stop the Sub-Minister, as he remained quiet for a period. "What do we get from this? If you capture any ships or a world what accrues to Emperor Djac?"

It was the first time the Emperor's name had come up. Mahoney, now confident he'd won the moment, kept his manner subdued.

"You don’t seem to be territorial. By that, I mean the Kalazecis appear quite satisfied with the worlds you currently possess. So I must assume you have other interests." Mahoney had no idea what those
interests
might be. From what little he knew from their data files, they had what they wanted or needed. Every Kalazecis he had met sported a jewel on a ring, bracelet or pinned to his uniform.

"Our population is ever growing," Ziloc said pensively. "A great deal of our arable land is used to raise food for the Pagmok. We do not have the land to grow the material to make clothing, both for Kalazecis and Pagmok."

Mahoney slapped the table startling every Kalazecis around the table. Ziloc bolted from his chair and reached for his comm unit.

"I have your answer," he said with an enormous smile. The grin across his face kept the Kalazecis from summoning guards.

"Synthetics. That's what you need. I have been in that business for twenty T-years… passages." He told them his ship could bring chemists, engineers to teach them the science, how to make clothing from their ample hydrocarbon reserves, and to build the factories.

Disbelief strained their faces. They lacked the knowledge of synthetics, and had no idea what that meant.

He gave them a very brief lesson and it seemed to help. It would take a couple of years to design and build plants for extracting the polymers and processing it into a suitable material. That time worked in his favor. Out-system for over a year already, two or three on Myslac and another year returning, meant most people would have forgotten him. His attack would be a complete surprise.

He rubbed his hands at the revelation. Events were working in his favor.

Mahoney answered their questions. Ziloc strutted before the group. He could hardly contain himself. The Emperor and Minister would reward him handsomely.

"I want six, yes, six should do it, Pagmok to accompany my ship to bring the people," Mahoney said.

Placing both hands on the table, Ziloc said, "Do you understand that a Kalazecis officer must be aboard the ship and have full command?" His oration brought nods from the others.

"That satisfies your Emperor’s needs. If and when it comes to a battle, I, or Captain Evans, will be in command." Mahoney’s voice remained hard, unyielding.

"You do not think we are capable of fighting," Ziloc said sarcastically.

"I don’t know and during a space battle isn’t the time to see if they know what they're doing." Mahoney stared down the Sub-Minister. He knew the Pagmok were warriors but that didn't enter his thinking. A battle between spaceships required far different skills and those he would not assign to anyone. Besides, he had the upper hand and would do his damnedest not to yield it.

"Our Pagmok warriors might show you a thing or two." Ziloc's contempt remained obvious.

"If we have to take another ship, or repel such an attempt, the Pagmok will lead the fight without any interference from me or my captain. But in a battle between spaceships, they
will
follow orders."

Mahoney, now standing casually looked at the landscape through window, his back to the room. Satisfied he would get what he needed, he outlined what would happen. His ship, Dolan Elite, with half a dozen Pagmok and one Kalazecis aboard, would space to Barnard's Star. Once the needed people and supplies came aboard, the Dolan Elite would return to Myslac.

"The six Pagmok warriors… you do not trust your captain," said Ziloc reprovingly.

"I trust no one but myself."

Mahoney took Ziloc’s look as approval, suggesting Ziloc got the message.

***

Under Mahoney and Evan's direction, a converted missile sled was altered to hold supplies and attached to Dolan Elite creating the space for the people that would come aboard at Star.

Captain Evans spaced ten days later for Barnard's Star after strongly voicing his objection to the Kalazecis and Pagmok making the voyage. The ship carried extra provisions, enough to make the trip with no en route stop at Cratten. They would follow a similar plan at Bernard's Star and transit directly to Myslac.

Mahoney busied himself designing and building the living quarters for the chemists and engineers. Living among aliens would test them and he would spare nothing, adding every convenience possible.

The construction effort wasn't without problems. Translation of technical instructions often led to major screw-ups. Slowly, he was able to identify the brighter Kalazecis and to the satisfaction of his hosts, some Pagmok who showed promise as builders received the more mentally challenging assignments. As no Kalazecis ever dirtied his hands, Mahoney had to do the highly technical work.

Any time a Kalazecis female, always with a male escort, came among them the Pagmok looked the other way. Mahoney asked if he should do as the Pagmok in the presence of a woman.

"You should take a Kalazecis female and learn for yourself," the leader said.

Mahoney stood stunned. Some of the Kalazecis women were physically attractive but co-habiting had never crossed his mind.

Why not give it a try?
How would the other Kalazecis react?
How would he ask?
Privacy on the worksites wasn't possible. He would find a way to approach a Kalazecis woman but first, he had to know which ones were available.

The job leader made it known Kalazecis custom permitted unattached women, escorted, in public. He could have his pick and he did.

Over the next two years, Mahoney and his consort, Mjonca, were a common sight. They accepted invitations to the highest gatherings of the Kalazecis elite. Djac had sanctioned the mating without hesitation. After all, Mahoney solved a major problem for them. Additional trust came as any gadgetry put in the humans houses quickly made its way to his host's homes.

Frequent FTL comm's between Evans and Mahoney kept him apprised of their status. The rendezvous at Barnard's Star had few significant problems and the Dolan Elite had spaced for the return to Myslac with the scientists and engineers. Captain Evans' reports occasionally mentioned problems between humans and Pagmok, but the Kalazecis had managed to intercede, quelling any major breech.

***

Mahoney stepped onto the Dolan Elite's hanger deck. Not a warm-hearted man, he nevertheless enjoyed seeing another human, his aide having died in a construction accident. It had taken two years for the round trip.

Mjonca followed, gathering the stares of the Dolan Elite hanger crew.

Captain Evans stepped forward and greeted her as Mahoney introduced her by name.

To Evan's amazement, she responded in English.

"My lady," Evans said. "You speak our language very well."

"I have had two years to learn and a very good teacher." She cast a pleasant glance at Mahoney. Dressed in a white neck to deck chiffon looking dress trimmed in gold that matched her long flowing hair, the Kalazecis woman looked truly beautiful.

The three made their way to the elevator and soon to Mahoney's cabin.

"How are matters on Barnard's Star," Mahoney asked as the hatch closed. The three took seats, Jarred behind his desk, Mjonca in a chair next to a porthole.

"As you suspected. Iona's Navy raised a great deal of hell with Barnard's president for letting you escape. What amounts to an orbital clamp-down had its effect but tempers finally cooled and matters are pretty much back to normal." Evans added, less than casually, "An Ionia flotilla makes frequent calls to Barnard, does a sensor sweep but never make landfall, and leave."

Mahoney suspiciously eyed his captain. "Exactly what does that mean?"

"Just the mention of your name and a number of voices rose against us. Getting the scientists and engineers off the planet took a lot of credits; more that we discussed and more than I expected. These technical types didn't help a bit with their demands either. But we got it done."

Mahoney didn't ask the financial cost. What was at stake on Myslac far outweighed any price.

"Is this your wife?" Evans asked as Mjonca rose to look at the pictures on the bulkheads.

Mahoney ignored the question, instead responding, "I need the dossiers on every man going dirtside."

"And women." Evans said as Mahoney bristled.

"Damn. I can't imagine what kind of storm that will cause. Women doing men's work isn't going to go over well with the Kalazecis."

"Chauvinists, I take it," Evans said with a chuckle.

"Don't laugh. It's a serious matter with the Kalazecis. They give a whole different meaning to the word."

"Women treated kinda rough?" Evans asked.

"No, not rough, in fact, treated more as queens. Abuse them in any way and you can expect to catch a lot of hell. Seldom happens. But they are not allowed to vote, own property, work outside the home, and can't leave the house unescorted. In fact, with Pagmok servants, few do any work. They can't even supervise the Pagmok servants, quite a strange arrangement."

"Sounds like they are to be bedded and little more." Evans’s tone was nothing but suggestive.

"Yes, and they are very good at that," Mahoney said less civilly. "And they seem to accept their place. I've yet to hear any complaints from Mjonca."

Mahoney punched at some icons on his desk and a holograph of the dirtside living quarters appeared. Knowing the needs of each member of the scientific and engineering crews, he assigned their billets. Of the ten chemists, two had brought their wives, but thankfully, no children. However, with the thirty engineers, there were a dozen women and thirteen children.