Pursue the Past: Samair in Argos: Book 1 (70 page)

              “And you kicking the stuffing out of me is going to help me deal?”

              Corajen gave her a predatory smile.  “Well, it might make you feel better… inside.  But I think you’re going to go through the path of enlightenment.”

              “The path of enlightenment?” Tamara muttered, confused.

              “Yeah, it’s a cultural thing. 
My
culture.  Emotional peace through pain.  I understand the Republic Marines have a similar tradition.”

              “You trying to make a Marine out of me?” Tamara grimaced.  “Ugh, please tell me you weren’t one.”

              Corajen shook her head.  “No, but my mother and cousin were.  Are, actually.  They’re still in the Republic.  My sister and I left the Republic when we were kids, never looked back.”

              “Your sister?”

              “You’ve met her.  She’s on board.”

              Tamara groaned in pain.  “I am not up for twenty questions this morning, Corajen.”

              “Saiphirelle.  She and I got in a little trouble back in the Republic and made our way out to the Cluster.  Sound like anyone else you know?”

              Tamara barked a laugh.  “I’m Navy, not a Marine.”

              Corajen grinned.  “And I’m Security.  But we’re going to walk the path of enlightenment and you’re going to start feeling better.  Or I beat you up and
I
feel better.  Either way, enlightenment is achieved.”

              “You’re a real Zen master, aren’t you?” Tamara asked.

              “Yes, I am,” she replied with perfect aplomb.  “And don’t worry.  This ship has a
fine
doctor.”

              “Captain, a ship just dropped out of hyperspace on a vector from Desdemona.”  George exclaimed.  Then he moderated his tone.  “Too far out for a full identification, but hyper footprint is consistent with a ship the size of the
Emilia Walker
.”

              “Finally!” the Captain snapped, punching the arm of his chair.  He had decided that he was going to stay on the bridge for a few hours while he caught up on a few reports.  Even as a captain of an independent freight hauler, he still had reports to review, things to sign off on.  It wasn’t all sitting in the chair and giving orders, more’s the pity.  But now he was getting an answer to the question him that had been constantly on his mind since Folston.  Would they show up?  Well, he didn’t actually know that they
had
shown up, not yet, and based on their approach vector they would reach the fueling station before they came to the main orbital where the
Grania Estelle
was in orbit. 

              He pursed his lips.  “Kutok, send a message to Ka’Xarian at the fueling station.  Have him keep an eye out for that incoming ship and send an update once whoever is on that ship arrives.  Oh, and make sure he sends us an update on the fueling process.”

              The fueling process was going like clockwork.  The collector had gathered up and refined enough helium 3 after two trips to top off the
Kara
’s tanks, for which Administrator Korneyev was breathing easier.  It would be at least another two rounds before Ka’Xarian had collected enough fuel for the
Grania Estelle
, but it seemed that the Captain was in no hurry.  They were still waiting for the wayward
Emilia Walker
and the Captain had said he was going to give it another good week or so before he made any kind of decisions regarding their next move.  Eventually they had a trip to Seylonique to get to, but there was no particular hurry, though the Captain was determined to go.  They had done a great deal of rebuilding to the
Kara
and he fully intended to get his payday for that.  Administrator Korneyev couldn’t trust that the governors on Seylonique wouldn’t stiff him if he didn’t go directly, so, that was their next stop.

              Getting the work on their own fueling operations done was taking up a fair amount of his time and for the most part, when his team wasn’t working they kept to the common areas, out of the way of the station crew as much as possible.  The station itself wasn’t the most appealing habitat, it was well used, and it was hot, with leaky steam pipes, water dripping and mold forming on the walls.  There was a faint stink of damp and rust and fuel here, though very thorough scans from the shuttle confirmed that the air was breathable and that there were no dangerous chemicals or breaches in the hull.  Nobody on the team was truly happy or comfortable here, but they all knew it was a necessary part of their orders.  The station personnel weren’t hostile, per se, but they certainly were not pleased to have interlopers hanging around on their fueling station for days at a time.

              “So there’s an awful lot of fuel collection going on here for just local use,” Jesma, one of the human women on Xar’s team mused on their third day.  “I mean, when we came here last time, there was, what, three or four collectors out there?  Now there are an even dozen.  Unless the number of ships that come through here has increased dramatically there’s no way they actually need that much fuel being stockpiled.”

              “What about all the shuttles and pinnaces?” Vakkon, the only other zheen in Xar’s group replied.  “I mean they’re making trips all over the place.  Maybe the powers that be here decided they wanted to lay in a reserve of fuel in case it was needed.”

              “Possible,” Ka’Xarian mused.  “I suppose it’s also possible that they have a wing or two of starfighters on the station or down on Darcannia.  From what I’ve seen of Samair’s fighter, those things just gulp down fuel.”

              Jesma nodded.  “Well, I guess that would make sense, but only if they have a
lot
of fighters.  Wouldn’t five collectors be reasonably able to keep all the lights on and engines running in this system?”

              Xar nodded, his antennae bobbing.  “Yeah, they would.  But hey, if they want to scoop up and refine helium 3, that’s their business, not ours.  I’m just glad they’re letting us use our own equipment and not have to buy their stuff.”  He paused, thinking it over.  “You know, what would it hurt to ask?”

              Vakkon’s antennae twitched in amusement.  “You could ask.”  Everyone chuckled. 

              “I’m going to ask.”  Ka’Xarian got to his feet. 

              Goris Hana’s office was large, much larger than any of the others in the station, which suited the fat toad.  He liked everyone to know who was in charge in his little pond and his lily pad needed to be bigger than anyone else’s.  Ka’Xarian didn’t care.  This was for a business transaction, nothing more. 

              “Mister Zheen,” Goris Hana gurgled as Xar entered the office.  “What can I do for you today?  Issues with your fueling operations?  I surely hope not.”

              On two different occasions the collector had come up with unexplained “glitches”, which forced Ka’Xarian to have the shuttle park in orbit of the gas giant to keep an eye on it and move in quickly if anything (or any other ship) made an approach.  Since he had done so, their collector had miraculously gone unmolested and in another seventy-three hours, they would have the fuel they needed to fill the
Grania Estelle
’s tanks.  The sooner they were off this station the happier one zheen engineer would be.

              “No, but I thank you for your concern, sir,” Ka’Xarian replied, making sure that he gave all the outward signs of gratitude. 

              Hana harrumphed.  It was no secret he wasn’t thrilled with the deal he’d set up with Captain Eamonn and based on the glitches it seemed the man was reconsidering that deal.  Though, of course, Xar had no illusions about what would happen to the fuel collected by Ka’Xarian and his crew.  Undoubtedly, the bloated man would help himself to that fuel as “compensation” for all of the aggravation he’d suffered.  No matter that it wasn’t his collector, it wasn’t his fuel and his people and shuttles hadn’t done any of the work.

              “So, you come to my office.  What can I help you with?”

              “Just wandering around, thought I’d stop in and say hello.”

              The toad frowned.  Ka’Xarian was amazed at how much this human looked like a large amphibian.  He had boils and huge jowls that jiggled when he spoke.  All he needed was a large tongue and green skin and he would
be
an amphibian.  Ka’Xarian couldn’t help but wonder if he was in danger of being eaten. 
I wonder, am I a tasty morsel in this man’s eyes?  Would I be crunchy?

              “You come into a busy station manager’s office just to say hello?  Are you insane?  You freighter bums truly are bums.”

              Ka’Xarian shrugged and then pointed to the vid-screen at the corner of the man’s desk.  “I see you watching springball on that display and I see sports scores on your datapad.”  His antennae straightened in amusement.  “You’re not that busy.  I think I picked a good time to drop by.”

              Goris Hana grunted in irritation.  “Okay, you’re here.  So for the last time, what do you want?”

              Ka’Xarian shrugged again.  “I just saw that you’ve been bringing in a lot of fuel.  I was just wondering what the market value is on all this fuel you’re bringing in.”

              Suddenly the toad’s beady eyes turned calculating.  “It’s already spoken for.  But if you’re interested in selling, I think we could work something out.”

              “What kind of value?” he repeated.

              The toad named a figure.  Ka’Xarian knew he was low-balling him, but it was still a decent chunk of change.  “I’d have to talk to my captain first, but I think he’d be interested in selling off a bit of our haul.”

              “That would be acceptable.  The minimum would be one full load from your collector.”

              Ka’Xarian nodded.  “I understand.  I’ll let my captain know.”  He turned to leave.

              “Then get out of here.  I have a springball game to catch up on.  And if he’s interested, then I’m sure the six-five-one will be happy to accept the extra fuel.”

              The zheen turned back to him.  “The six-five-one?”

              The toad nodded.  “It’s the name of the consortium I’m selling all the fuel to.  Now get out of here.”

              Ka’Xarian gave him a sloppy saluted and walked out. 
A consortium.  Now where have I heard
that
before?

              “This is ridiculous,” Tamara complained several hours later, as she stood on the padded floor of the ship’s gym.  “I don’t want to fight you.”

              “We’re not fighting,” Corajen replied, bouncing from foot to foot and shaking her arms and shoulders to loosen them up.  “I’m going to
teach
you how to fight.”

              “And what if I don’t want to learn?” Tamara replied. 

              Corajen grinned.  “You do.  Because this is tried and tested and proven.  You burn yourself out in your work, so you have no mental defenses left when you go to sleep.  And your brain decides that it’s going to let its demons out then because you can’t stop it.  Working out here with me will help you.”

              “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Tamara accused.  “So instead of burning myself out on work, I’m getting pummeled here and
then
getting burned out on work?”

              “I know what it sounds like,” the lupusan replied, unflinching.  “But it works.  Trust me.”

              “So how do we do this?” Tamara asked, rolling her head around her shoulders to loosen up her neck.  “I don’t know anything about fighting.”

              “You were in the Navy.”

              “Yes, you know that,” Tamara replied irritably.

              “So that means you went through the Basic course.”  Corajen smiled.  “I know it’s been a while for you, but it gives you just that: the basics.  It teaches you how to move and gives you a decent platform to build martial skills off of.  I know many people in the Navy don’t really do much with that once they’re out of boot camp, but there are a few who do.”

              “So you’re going to put me through boot again?” Tamara said skeptically.  “I remember hating it then.”

              “No, I’m not going to have you do laps or anything ridiculous like that.  I’m just going to work with you.”  She gave one more roll to her shoulders.  “All right.  Let’s get into it here.  Hands up, keep your elbows in.  We’re going to work on a few things.”

              The Captain sat in his stateroom, the security vid feeds from the gym pulled up on his display.  He watched as the engineer and the security chief were going at it, though thankfully as little more than sparring partners.  It looked as though Corajen was doing exactly what she said she was going to do, she was working with the engineer.  Actually, right now, it looked like a refresher course at some martial arts dojo.  They were punching and kicking and blocking, Corajen looking like this was what she did every day, Tamara looking awkward.  He winced as the lupusan got an open palm past Tamara’s defenses and hit her in the solar plexus, knocking her down.