After a few brief seconds of silence, Shiritori prompted him. ‘Well, Mr. Aston? I was told you have something I might find interesting.’
‘Well, I hope so,’ said Aston. He reached into his jacket to retrieve a datapad, hoping it had not fallen through the hole in the inside pocket, forcing him to root around in the lining. He activated the flat instrument, found the right file and slid it across the table for Shiritori’s inspection. The man scrutinised the screen, and Aston found himself staring hard, trying to gauge any change in expression that might betray his interest. After punching a few buttons to query the datapad, Shiritori breathed out a little too heavily for Aston’s comfort. After another long pause, Shiritori set down the datapad and shook his head.
‘Sorry. It’s worthless.’
Aston slumped back, his shoulders low. ‘Damn,’ he muttered. ‘Do you know what it is? Is there someone else who might be interested?’ He caught Shiritori’s stare. ‘I really need to make this work. Without some attention my shuttle might not even make it back to Earth, and I am all tapped out from the docking fees here.’
Shiritori pursed his lips. ‘It’s Narn. No idea how it ended up in the asteroid belt. Probably some trader who suffered a navigational malfunction and flew into a rock. Can happen.’ Aston had suffered enough mishaps in his own shuttle to know the truth of this. Through his dejection, he forced himself to listen to Shiritori. ‘It’s a fuel cell, nothing more. Most of the charge has dissipated. I doubt even a collector would be interested.’
He watched Aston’s head lower and, with a thoughtful expression, picked up the datapad again. ‘You really cannot get back to Earth without selling this?’
Aston looked up again. ‘No. I really thought I had something. Thought my luck had changed.’
‘Well. . .’ Shiritori considered. ‘Did you bring it through customs or is it still on your shuttle?’
‘I left it in my hold.’
‘Okay. Maybe, just maybe, I might know of someone who could renovate this fuel cell. They are in Abbai space and will be hard to track down. I can’t give you much for this, but if you really are desperate I might be able to give you enough to get back to Io, perhaps even get some of those repairs you need done.’
Aston perked up immediately. ‘Really?’
Raising a hand, Shiritori said, ‘Now I don’t do this for everyone, but I have been where you are. I was once stuck on this station for six months before I could raise enough money to leave. Had to live in Downbelow and everything. Wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I can’t have others knowing about this soft spot though, or everyone will want a favour. If you promise to keep our arrangement quiet, I think I can see my clear to giving you, say, four thousand for it?’
Four thousand? Now that was real money. Not as much as Aston had hoped for but more than he had expected. With four thousand credits, he could do at least most of the updates and repairs needed on his shuttle. Maybe even pick up a new sensor array that would make Mayfield envious.
‘I give you my word. No one will know. I told no one up to now and can keep quiet after this.’ He did not notice the man’s extra attention on him as he said this. Shiritori smiled sympathetically and, after keying an instruction to the datapad, slid it across the table, keeping his thumb on one half of the registration interface.
‘Give me a thumb print and the money will be deposited into your account immediately.’
Aston could not do that fast enough.
‘Good to do business with you, Mr. Aston. I hope you get to back to Earth space safely. I’ll send some people to your shuttle to pick the fuel cell up within the hour.’
Shiritori stood with a hand outstretched, and Aston clumsily copied his actions as they shook on the deal. He sat back down as Shiritori walked away and rapidly disappeared among the crowd of the Zocalo. Waving the Brakiri waiter back over, he ordered a beer to go. After all, he could afford it now.
Hastening back to his rented quarters in Red Sector, Shiritori immediately crossed the living space of the none-too-spacious room and sat down in front of his universal computer link. He first sent an audio-only message to his ship’s crew in the docking port of the station to arrange the pickup of the device he had just bought. He had clocked Aston before they had exchanged more than a few words. One of countless millions in the galaxy trying to scratch a living in space and failing spectacularly. Now the man had thought he hit the big time. In a way, it was a shame he had run into a fence like Shiritori. Still, Aston’s poor luck and judgement might well be Shiritori s fortune. Literally. He had been right in suggesting that Aston might have ended up in Downbelow, but it had not been charity that moved him to make an offer. Not by a long shot. Shiritori had never spent more than a few hours in Downbelow, and then only to track down a debtor or someone who could not travel freely around the station for ‘legal’ reasons. Still, the story had seemed right. He called up the interstellar comm links on his screen and, engaging his personal encryption system, sent a text-only message to his contact in the Centauri Republic.
Have something interesting. Strange but extremely strong energy emissions. Presumed to be Dilgar design. Two million credits.
June 4th 2263, Quadrant 37
Using a Centauri naming system that had not been repeated since the Republic sprawled across the known galaxy, Quadrant 37 endured a short but violent history. No sentient species had developed on any of the system’s six planets, and only one of the stellar bodies held both an atmosphere and enough mineral resources to make colonisation worthwhile. Its chief value, however, was as a strategic conduit between the Narn Regime and Centauri Republic. Whoever controlled Quadrant 37 had a tangible advantage over the other in the event of war.
Quadrant 37 was first officially claimed by the Centauri as they began to spread across the galaxy to create their great empire. The Centauri all but ignored it as a worthless system, and they never settled or attempted colonisation. As their empire faltered and began to contract from pressures of other emerging races, the Narn became ascendant, throwing off the shackles of their Centauri oppressors and stretching forth their own hand across the stars. The shrinking of the Centauri Republic hastened as the Narn made war against them, and it took many systems to bleed their raw fury. The Narn finally stopped at Quadrant 37, claiming it as theirs and constructing an outpost--along with what they called a civilian colony. This colony was little more than a listening post, and the Centauri took every opportunity to vigorously complain about its existence. Their empire was crumbling, their voices little more than the impotent cry of a great civilisation long past its time. The Centauri would certainly not risk going to war over a world with so little to offer no matter what the Narn used it for.
The balance changed in 2258 when the Centauri finally began to find the will to strike at the Narn. Quadrant 37 was the first system the Centauri struck, harnessing a powerful and ancient alien race known as the Shadows, wiping out the Narn colony within minutes. After the death of Emperor Turhan and a further attack against another planetary system in Quadrant 14, Centauri forces flowed into Regime space to enslave their age-old enemy once more. Even when the Narn forced invaders from their homeworld for the second time in history, the Centauri were able to retain possession of the strategically important but otherwise fairly worthless Quadrant 37. Wait long enough, however, and everything changes. On this day, Quadrant 37 was being returned to the Narn as part of the reparations the Centauri were being forced to pay the governments of the ISA. It had been an easy system to let go, as it represented billions of credits of reparations that the Centauri government no longer had to pay.
Shaw considered the system’s brief history as he gazed at its second and ‘main’ planet, steadily growing larger as the
Intrepide
sped through space towards its rendezvous with Narn and Centauri politicians on its surface. He started slightly as Badeau’s voice floated up from close behind.
‘Strange, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘A planet so dead and yet so valued by some. Is it, I wonder, worth the blood that has been spilt here?’
He turned to face his Captain. ‘Well, the Narn certainly think so. I heard they gave up billions of credits for this place.’
Badeau looked directly into his eyes. ‘But why? Why do you think it is so precious to them?’
‘Well, not for the resources. . .’
‘Certainly not. Barely worth the effort when you have as many systems under your control as the Regime does.’
‘Its strategic position then.’
Badeau gave a small sigh--a little sadly, Shaw thought. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Even now, the Narn are considering the day when they will fight the Centauri once more. I have heard it said that both the Narn and Centauri are lost people, that the galaxy should just blink and let them pass. I have no doubt it would be easier for everyone concerned, and yet how can we take that seriously?’
‘There is some argument to suggest that the Narn have rights to this place. Both sides have agreed to swap Quadrant 37 for a portion of the reparations due to the Regime . . . This may help keep the peace between them.’
‘Will it?’ Badeau raised an eyebrow and then shook her head. ‘We are here as peacekeepers, but I fear we are doing nothing more than giving the Narn a position of advantage for the future. They will either use it or the Centauri will fight against it. I believe that when the Centauri pulled out of the ISA, we lost our last, best hope for peace between them and the Narn.’
‘Captain--Sabine. You seem . . at a loss. You think this is, what, a fool’s errand?’
‘I don’t know. We all do what we can and, as Rangers, we are here to make sure the transfer takes place smoothly and the present peace is continued. I do not know what evil we serve in the future. Give me the squabbles among the old League, the hunger for technology of the Earth Alliance or any one of the galaxy’s other perpetual problems. I genuinely believe the ISA is a force of good and that it can resolve them all. Except for this. Except for the enmity, no, the raw hatred the Narn and Centauri have for one another. It has gone beyond a racial thing. It has become bred into them, at a genetic level possibly. I don’t know how to even begin solving it. I do know that if a galaxy-spanning war ever begins again, it will start on this border. Perhaps even in this system.’
The two Rangers stood in silence, lost in their own thoughts as they watched the brown and lifeless planet move ever closer. The Minbari crew worked calmly at their stations, decelerating the
Intrepide
and manoeuvring it into low orbit. When one of the helmsmen reported that the lone Centauri outpost had been located, Badeau gave the order to begin the landing cycle and returned to her Captain’s chair.
Retreating to his station, Shaw performed routine checks until one of the Minbari behind him reported that two contacts had been detected, also in orbit. Both the Narn and Centauri had sent warships to monitor the transfer of ownership and, true to their eternal rivalry, neither had bothered sending a frigate when a much larger ship would serve just as well. The Centauri Primus-class battlecruiser and Narn G’Quan-class heavy cruiser hung in space above the descending White Star, motionless but facing each other with, it seemed, barely contained malice. Shaw could tell from his console that neither had powered up their weaponry, but he felt it an ominous sign that both governments had felt the need to send warships of this size. Few vessels in either fleet were larger or more powerful and yet, when all was said and done, this was a simple diplomatic exchange.
The
Intrepide
rocked gently, buffeted by the atmosphere of the desolate world officially called Quadrant 37/2 by the Centauri. The crew on board felt little disturbance as the White Star’s gravitic drive worked to smooth out all bumps and shimmies. The helmsmen worked skilfully to slow the
Intrepide
to a crawl as it approached the outpost’s landing bay, circling once before deploying the landing gear and making a soft touchdown between two shuttles.
Badeau stood from her seat and turned to face Shaw. ‘Well, we are here. Let’s see what good we can do.’ Giving her normal standing orders to the Minbari crew, she left the bridge with Shaw following close behind. As they walked down the boarding ramp, they spied a Narn and Centauri waiting for them by the outpost’s landing bay entrance.
‘Remember, we are officially here to ensure the Centauri do nothing to harm the Narn cause during this transfer,’ Badeau whispered. ‘However, don’t trust either of them completely. There is too much at stake for the Narn, the Centauri and us.’
The Centauri stepped forward first to extend his arms. ‘Welcome, my dear Rangers. I offer you the Hands of Friendship. I am Principal Turquon, representative of the Centauri Republic.’
A Principal, thought Shaw. A low-ranking official intended as a calculated insult to the Narn? That might not bode well, but if the Centauri could limit themselves to a minor slight, this mission might still go according to plan.
‘Thank you, Turquon. I accept the Hands of Friendship,’ Badeau said as she clasped the Centauri at the forearms. ‘I am Sabine Badeau of the Anla’Shok, and this is my assistant, Michael Shaw.’ She turned to the Narn and saluted in his race’s fashion, two fists drawn against the chest while performing a slight bow of respect.
The Narn returned the salute and bow. ‘I bring the greetings and gratitude of the Narn Regime for overseeing the lawful transfer of Quadrant 37. I am Na’Quil, Third Circle. May we offer you refreshments after your long voyage?’
‘Thank you, no. We ate just before we jumped in-system, and there is much work to be done,’ replied Badeau.
‘Of course. Please, follow me and I’ll give you a tour of the facilities.’
As the large reinforced door to the outpost swung slowly open, Shaw noticed the Centauri staring quite openly at the
Intrepide
. As Turquon turned to follow the party into the outpost, he caught Shaw’s eye and smiled.
‘That is a nice ship. I have never seen one up close. I don’t suppose a reciprocal tour would be possible?’