Speaking in Person
"I will negotiate……in good faith," Daoshen explained. "Of course, it will be
carefully."
Stone grimaced, "I find your warning ahead of time to be troubling, Chancellor." The party last night was over and today was, between the breaks for tours and presentations, about business. "You're basically saying you'll rules-lawyer your ass off if you can." Admiral Foster was sitting in an observer seat, as moderator.
"You knew that already, Exarch Stone, saying it out loud, means it goes into the public record, and nobody can claim perfidy later. This will
all be above board. Also, I expect YOUR government will attempt to find 'loopholes and workarounds'. They would be catastrophically negligent
not to."
Devlin Stone chuckled with Liao at the shared joke. "We could have done this somewhere closer."
"Then you wouldn't have come! You couldn't, honestly, or I wouldn't be able to. I, because of my long-standing national hostility with the Haseks or Andurien. YOU, because the only way you'd trust meeting ME is either in irons on Terra, or here, on a guaranteed neutral with no prior history to muddy the issues."
"You know they're borrowing money from the Republic at an astonishing rate. What makes this 'neutral', Chancellor?" Stone asked. "I think your father would've already termed the Alliance a 'client state' and rejected it."
"I am… not my father," Daoshen stated. "Perhaps that means I am less than he was, to be willing to discuss peace so easily, under such conditions. Though my argument might be more on the lines of 'How are you ever going to foreclose?' on the Alliance, if they default? The answer is that the Outworlds are too distant for you to do so, and you would have to get in line behind three Clans and a number of merchant banking institutions in three more states. If you were to seek to do something like that, such an extended war, so far from your home lines, would be catastrophic for your nation. Much as it would be for us. Your advisors, Devlin, agreed to this because you're safe from my advisors here… and mine agreed because I
told them to."
"Why?"
"Because, I prefer the RAF to be watching and supporting a distant foreign war, instead of planning your next conquest of the Capellan Confederation, of course. Had my grandmother had the same foresight, she would have been offering Rasalhague as many shipments of arms as could come out of our factories in the thirty-fifties 'at cost'. Because it would have kept the Steiner-Davions and their Hasek lackeys focused on a distant foreign war instead of on finishing the conquest of the Confederation. Let me be perfectly clear for you, and for history… Everyone else owed you for what you did during the Blake War. But
we fought them off ourselves and you demanded a slice of my realm anyway… and my father fell defending it. The usual pattern is, you'll want a buffer next. So maybe another 'limited' invasion, to create a buffer
state will happen. And of course, then you'll have the ready-made excuse of pre-emption. And before anyone realizes it, you're sitting in the Magistracy and the Confederation is merely a province of your 'Republic'." Daoshen closed his hand. "Which I don't want. The alternative, is we start attacking you. Because History is what History is, and millions end up dead. We might win, we might lose. But the survivors will envy the dead in either case… OR… we establish a sustainable detente and peace, and your aggression is focused where it may actually do some
good."
"And yours?"
"I have a nation to rebuild," Liao stated. "Between the 'Capellan Crusades' (nice name by the way, Devlin, very…catchy) and the damage done to us in the last
four centuries before the Blakists tried to drive all mankind into the dirt? We have a lot of rebuilding to
do, and more than enough outright work to do. Plus, unlike you, I have an open border into unclaimed space. All we need is enough breathing room, and we will eventually
surpass you. It may be that, in a few generations, one of your successors will be applying to join the Confederation… as a member-state. A good few steps involve encouraging you into these extended foreign activities far from our borders. They're a good tap for your more aggressive followers, and pose no threat to our interests."
"You wouldn't be interested in 'participating' then?" Stone asked.
"The CCAF could learn a lot from the operations out here. We have
Tortuga and someone will have to eventually do something about the Marians," Liao stated. "So, I am not averse to providing support to the Alliance, as neutrals, of course. We are a bit…distant… to try and claim to be full allies of anyone in this area as of yet. But money
does transfer and it transfers more easily if it doesn't have to filter through war zones to go where it is being sent."
"So you
are playing for influence."
"I'd be an idiot not to," Daoshen shot back. "I have intentions, and plans. And most of them work better if I’m not digging in to resist yet-another-invasion myself. That possibility reduces if my friends are also the friends of the people most likely, in their naked envy and avarice, to attempt something they would not, if their friends were watching."
"And you have other reasons for this conflict in particular, right?" Stone asked. "Because there are closer ones you could have brought up…"
"Inevitably," Daoshen stated. "Just as
you have ulterior motives for your government's support of it. If you didn't, you would… be catastrophically negligent. And maybe more than a bit incompetent, and the record doesn't show that. We
both have ulterior motives, additional goals, and secret objectives, none of which are broken by negotiating a sustainable armistice and detente between our respective nations."
Then, Daoshen waved. "Look around you, Stone," he said. "Look at what they've done here. What they can
do here. And think about what it
means when there are
artificial sentients, and they are not… brainwashed monsters. Of
course I have an interest! How long has it been, since anyone's interstellar navy
acted like a Navy instead of alternating between a transport service and a mobile atrocity factory? Hmm?"
The timer clicked over, and Foster struck a Gavel. "Gentlemen, it's time for recess. Followed by a presentation at two."
*
"He didn't sugarcoat……that at all, did he?" Helena asked as the two heads of state headed for their respective diplomatic residences on the Station.
"I do not think he needed to," Foster stated. "I imagine Liao knows the reputation of his… 'House' well enough he's going to want to be in front of any accusations of impropriety, and the best move he could make is…?"
“Be sincere. As much as everyone will doubt him, he’s telling the truth.”
"Or be openly
insincere but legalistic," Foster said. "There are more than a few Bloodhouse leaders in the Touman who use the same sort of 'brutal honesty' to cover their covert moves."
“Yes. We all bend the truth in some form to suit our agendas. But in this case, he is expertly cutting off most counters. Helps make him look like the good guy, too. So that’s what he’s doing.”
Foster nodded along. "It's in his interest, as he said… repeatedly. Makes me think his real endgame is something complicated. But then, that is how it ends up being within the Touman when the Bloodnamed play politics."
“Agreed. I never got the same education in interstellar politics Elizabeth did, but in navigating my way through so many wars, I’ve still picked up a few things. Stone can refuse. He has enough political pull to do so. But what it would cost him while supporting us at the same time may be too high of a price in the long term.”
"Hence, why he's here: if the talks collapse, it's not his fault; and if they succeed, it brings in additional capital," Foster agreed.
“All we need to do now is find out what Daoshen really wants. I have some guesses but most of them are paranoid fantasies.”
"So, let us be paranoid fantasists. I assigned Roberts to give the tour this afternoon. She is about as subtle as a mining sledge, so I asked her to find out."
“Option one and the most basic: he’s after some Cameron genes to make a real claim at being the real First Lord. Or more specifically, his children will be.”
"Something to watch for… but here is option two: Daoshen's been asking about the AIs, a lot. And he stayed awake and alert, according to Jonah and Cossack, for the entire trip here from the jump point. He is looking for tech exchange."
“Yeah. That’s occurred to me, too. He may be looking to be the true Mandate of Heaven and Celestial Wisdom. Thankfully, I think we’ve kept the details of that under wraps enough for that to be real paranoid thinking.”
"Option three: we are jumping at shadows. He actually means it, and it does not invalidate options one and two," Foster noted.
“Possibly. The scariest part, is that’s the one I believe the most.”
"So does Howe," Foster said. "Which means we really need to be watching, because… Hear me out here: 'It might be the best deal for US'."
“This is why I have grown to dislike hereditary rule…” Helena shook her head.
Foster shrugged. "Helena, even the
Clans were unable to completely remove it. The whole Bloodname thing is really just a more flexible form."
“I know. Names have power and meaning. I guess I just have this hope that the experiments with Democracy of Terra’s past were not exceptions to the rule.”
"Heh, the 'rule' was that they failed. Admiral McKenna had to put them down, and they failed even out this far: Avellar didn't have to run for his office, he was born to hold it."
“Yeah. Just the thought of you can go from Jocasta to Simon to Richard to coup is hard for me to get around how much of a lottery the whole system is.”
"Lotteries are governed by odds, Helena. What you're talking about is more of a rigged game. Like the dealer dealing from a marked deck to blind players."
“I suppose that’s the better way to put it. But I still don’t like how much people look to me for things they should be able to do on their own just because my name is ‘Cameron’. But I still lead because someone has to, and I can at least try and make the next cog in the wheel of time better than this one.”
"I believe your sister tried it a different way recently, and she
still wound up with people looking to her for things they should be doing themselves," Foster pointed out. "Only in her case it was 'Drillson' and somehow, she still had to arrange to be thrown out of office."
"You don't really believe Elizabeth set that up!"
"I do," Foster asserted. "She rigged it so they'd toss her out when it looked like nobody else would run for her seat in the next election."
“Almost sounds like something I’d do to duck becoming the real First Lord again. I know my reluctance to seek power is why so many think I am so good with it. But some days I’m sure I’m really more lucky than good.”
"To seek power, Helena, requires a certain level of certainty that you are right, and everyone else is wrong." Foster glanced at the chronometer. "Those who only do so reluctantly tend to be more aware that that is a fallacy. I believe Amanda would suggest that such a person is ideal for actually
governing, as opposed to merely seeking to rule."
“Which creates an interesting philosophical quandary. Knowing that I know that, does my reluctance to power become a facade?”
"History might say, your opponents might say,
you might even say, but as an absolute?" he shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. But excessive humility in a leader in wartime is not a virtue. Just as any other excess, it becomes a vice in its own right."
“Thankfully, I’ve had good teachers in that department. I’m just glad we’re starting to close in on the end, slowly but surely. I know there will be other wars, other problems. But this one is going to be with me a long time.”
**
The Decisions we……make as teens often come to haunt us later on. Amanda got the chance to rue this today, as she tugged at the costume that had become, for all useful purposes, the mess-dress uniform of the Privateers.
"At least you didn't experiment with
wigs too," Lori commented, as they checked each other's 'surface dress' uniforms for violations of the regulations.
"What the hell was I thinking?" Amanda wondered
'You thought it looked cool, and the leadership obliged because… reasons?"
Amanda regarded her image in the mirror. "It
does look cool, doesn't it?"
"That's right, stoke your vanity in the impractically long coat, Amanda. But be glad you didn't go for the wigs in some of those history romances you love."
"Well… here we go, it's almost time."
"Notes?"
Amanda held up a portable, and then put it into the large cargo pocket of her jacket, just below the belt.
The walk down to the lift for fifteen took a few minutes. The ride down the lift gave a steady increase in felt gravity as it moved away from the center core of the station to the mid-levels, where the wheel was large enough to have a full gee of spin gravity. The outer levels were the docks, but her presentation would be in the Guest Facility's main hall, followed by a tour to the docking and maintenance levels.
Areas where normally, one wears a suit all the time. And her 'underwear' was a skinsuit, one with an emergency hood because of the hat that would otherwise be in the way.
"Safety brief, short summary of the Service," Amanda muttered. 'A few jokes to lighten the mood… discussions of what we found…"
It was going to be a LONG day.
But not as long as the day was going to be for the guys in the Bannerhoft Occupation forces, or the guys on the front-lines, or the men and women manning system defense militias waiting for the next attack.
<Do you want me to handle it, Amanda?>
"No, Desmond, I have to do this one myself," she answered. "Just help me keep my presentation straight, okay?"
<Will do.>
***
"I trust everyone……who is here, has at least an emergency skinsuit tucked under their clothing?" Amanda asked. "Because if you don't, we'll wait. The Docks are mostly pressurized, but accidents happen. A space station is not like a planetary port. If you feel the wind, it's a good idea to zip up." She demonstrated by deploying her emergency head-cover, a flexible cloth and plastic mask connected to a small recycler, which she then rolled back after demonstrating the checks. "A skin bag, like the one I'm wearing, will last up to half an hour on the inboard systems. Long enough, hopefully, to get to a shelter, or into a beach-ball." She re-seated her hat. "We try not to have accidents, but in space, accidents are inevitable."
Regina was helping one of Stone’s men with his suit while Victoria was standing by waiting patiently as Daoshen’s men seemed either uninterested in her help or not in need of it.
Amanda was pretty sure it was the former but she couldn’t say anything more without creating an incident, as she actually could not be sure.
But something about Victoria did seem a bit off as she studied her.
<Something wrong Victoria?> Amanda reached out.
<An aberration in my remote. It is minor enough I can continue without interrupting the tour.>
<That remote lets you interact with people who don't have implants, Victoria. If it's acting up, you might want to get that looked at before it fails somewhere or sometime it's critical.>
<Next opportunity I will speak to Esme about it.>
<We'll be down in her turf,> Amanda agreed. <Alice, let Esme know Victoria's remote is acting up. We'll have to have her stop in during the tour.>
<WOW, Captain Roberts! Your interface is
so clear today!!> Alice replied.
<Desmond's focusing on running it instead of me,> Amanda replied. <I have to do this without leaning on him, so it CAN be clearer. Has Esme responded yet?>
<Erin's letting her know now.>
"Okay, is everyone ready?" Amanda was trying to be genial.
Regina gave a thumbs up to indicate the last of Stone’s party was suited up properly.
"We're going to begin with the lifts you have all already taken, so I won't go into that topic. Instead, we'll talk about
my ship, OWS
Evanescent. Most of the Privateer Service's vessels are leased to the Service by the Outworlds Alliance Parliament, with half the lease funding provided by Clan Snow Raven as a reserve force. I own mine, and she's one of our first stops, since my ship is the first ship in the Service, though not the flagship…"
“Oh? That seems rather unusual,” Stone commented.
"When
Evanescent became my ship, the Outworlds Alliance didn't
have a Privateer service. We didn't have the Letter of Marque and Reprisal, we didn't have official sanction," she explained. "What I had was a damaged memory that led me to a Naval Coordination center that was set up before the Risings of the 28th century by the officially denounced Outworlds Resistance. And that coordination center had an archive, which led me to where
Evanescent had been laid up against the possible resumption of hostilities with the Star League."
"Resumption of hostilities?" Daoshen asked. "You mean, your ancestors were planning to fight the Star League?"
"The first time through, Chancellor, we were occupied by
Amos Forlough," Amanda spat the name. "And we had generations of remembering what he
did to us. The Resistance had the intention to fight to the last man. Because allowing it to happen again, and to have the war criminal given a medal and a… a title for it? Was too much to stomach a second time." Her tone dripped with
ancient rage as she spoke, carefully suppressed, but palpably there. "They didn't get the chance, of course. They didn't know about Amaris and his relationship with SLIC in arranging the war they'd feared was coming. If they had, they might've picked their allies a little better… But they didn't, and so, I got a ship!" she ended brightly.
"So you salvaged a two hundred forty thousand ton WarShip?"
"By myself, yeah. They stocked her with everything before they laid her in the base I found her in. And it got missed by Kerensky's forces, though they didn't miss the intended crew and officers on the planet… So she's mine. I have legal title and everything."
"How much degradation did it have?" one of Daoshen's aides, a registered assistant in technical matters named Si Fu Lan, asked. He was, in Amanda's eyes, fairly handsome in that quirky way she liked. <Maybe see if he's busy later, Desmond?>
"Mostly pretty good shape, the… ah… food stocks weren't, and most of the medicines aboard were centuries past their 'dispose by' dates," she admitted. "Which led to how I first got noticed."
"How was that?""
"I boarded a Clan supply vessel and stole the MRC's out of their emergency galley," she said. "My big 'heist' as a 'pirate' was stealing food everyone tells me is among the most awful tasting in existence!"
The lift started down toward the ring.
"That got you a Letter of Marque?" someone scoffed from the Republic's group.
"No, destroying a Battalion of the Sons of Plunder in the Hala system got that ball rolling," Amanda stated. "I got my first crew that way-they were about to take an old
Invader class JumpShip, a trading ship. I took them out, but couldn't save the Merchie hull. I
was able to save the crew, and I offered to make them my 'pirate crew'," she grinned impishly.
Regina gave a reassuring smile and a small wink.
"The Captain of that merchant vessel became my first executive officer, and the man who taught me…" Amanda hesitated, then plunged forward: "He taught me how to actually
be a Captain, and what the reality of Pirates were, versus the stories and novels I grew up reading. He's going to be missed for a long time… but Hala didn't get us the Letter either. We took his cargo to Northsun, and sold them a shipment of weapons they wouldn't have been able to buy if we hadn't come looking to round out our numbers… And
that didn't get us the Letter of Marque. Though it
did get me on the Clan Watch's radar, and they had agents in the recruited crew."
"So got it for you?"
"Devil's Breath," she said. "The first real Liberation. The Star League kept a facility there, and the Sons were using it. About five hundred civilian victims inside. A short company guarding them in a facility designed to hold political prisoners for the Camerons centuries ago, outfitted with their best security. It was that action that got the President's attention. And our plans for freeing Joan's Post got President Avellar to make the offer. I was
the first Outworlds Privateer. And my crew from then are among the best leaders of the Service since it expanded."
“And what of the AIs? What role do they play?”
"Pick a role," Amanda answered. "When I freed Erinyes, she was being held in a state of near-catatonia in the hands of war criminals from the Word of Blake… the same men whose crime set me on my path," Amanda said. "She helped me kill the man who made her a slave and instrument of mass murder. I spoke with her. We interacted. I chose to free her, and maybe that's why some of my closest friends are Artificial Intelligences."
“And to be fair, our combat experiences and capabilities, while formidable, were built during the Golden Age of the Star League, when ships could be replaced as fast as they were destroyed. We learned much from the Service about how to fight a War where such reinforcements were unavailable,” Regina added.
"That was mostly Admiral Foster and Larry Nichols. They worked it out," Amanda added. "I… I know I have a reputation, but the early part was being unaware that it wouldn't work. Later, it was because of their teachings."
"Who is this 'Larry Nichols'?” one of the guests asked. "Will we get to meet him?"
"He died," Amanda said, poorly hiding real grief. "He died… and we're the poorer for it."
Regina noticeably shifted at the comments, giving away her own discomfort about the topic.
Mercifully, the lift stopped at their destination breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen on the group.
"So our first stop, is the first ship in the Privateer service!" Amanda's cheerfulness was so obviously faked that Regina noticed both leaders flinched a bit, but kept their peace.
To Be Continued
