Chapter 9 – Preparations and Gifts
Person of Interest #1: This can't be real.
Person of Interest #2: Can you be more specific? That statement is open to so many interpretations.
POI 1: Fine. The claims made by the Imperial Exploration Corps that there’s an advanced race out there beyond that Corridor Quadrant. A desperate claim by a long outdated organization willing to head off the bureaucratic axe facing them.
POI 2: House Loval is possibly in turmoil behind the strong facade, as my connections have been able to ascertain. On one hand, they are proud of their estranged son making history, but on the other hand, it comes at a time where waves should not be made.
POI 1: I have looked at the pictures and recordings and I choose to refuse that all of it is real. What kind of civilization is so divided as to send both faction representatives to us? 150 years of nothing but war? Preposterous! Not even the Age of Darkness and Superstition were that bloody in our terrestrial history!
POI 2: Well, if they are so divided as a civilization for the last 150 years if the histories they gave us were that truthful at all, then I believe that cultivating both sides through some of their more open-minded fellows would be a profitable venture. It will take some investment on our part but the payoff if done well would be immense. We ensure that correct and amicable relationships between the Republic and the two warring sides while they stay focused on their bloody stalemate, which might lead to us being a trusted and neutral dealer for them.
POI 1: Hmm… not a bad idea to be honest. This line of discussion is best made within private settings, you never know who might hear this and steal our thunder. That said, the rumours have been abounding that our incoming representatives have reluctantly reduced their fleet size which our lofty explorers were responsible for?
POI 2: As I’ve said before its the ISC trying to be coy in the game. Let those humans come. That ruinous war of theirs must have made them decided to project an aura of strength that belies their weakness. Let them come.
- partial transcript from an intercepted conversation by the Emperor’s Guard.
Staff Meeting Room
Good Omens
The meeting room, one of the ship’s more opulent and stately compartment where the visiting dignitary may be awed at the presence of Centauri history and countless artefacts and trophies that an explorer had collected in his or her journeys, was packed full
Every officer present and accounted for, called by its captain to plan something, anything that would work with their new hosts.
The standard Centauri protocol went out into the realms where the fabled First Ones lived, never to return.
Senkov opened the floor. “Given that we are now in a planet where this empire of humans own, I have been told that we have a day at least to rest and prepare for an initial meeting with the Count of Fezzan, which I hope will make a good impression on him and have his backing to smooth our way once we go to their equivalent of the Imperial Court back home.”
He paused. “Make no mistake, we only have one whole day as a respite before we are thrown thick into the fray.”
He looked around his officers, men and women who had been with him for years. “Any practical suggestions?”
Engineering was the first to speak. “What do we have in our inventory that’s good enough for a gift for the planetary ruler then? We have to be mindful that we also need to have gifts for their emperor and other dignitaries if we need to.”
This sparked a round of discussions and recommendations from the officers gathered around. Most of them related to books as it was indeed a most civilized and inoffensive gift that they thought almost in unison.
The captain had that rare copy of the 51st Edition of Ships Across the Galaxy, one that detailed the spaceships both civilian and military make currently present in the galaxy, with emphasis on special flagships that were the pride of their navies. This edition had that rare full-colour artistic drawings of First Race ships both known or rumoured, though the entries were sparse and the drawings, just that: drawings.
Even the despised Drakh were included.
He was sparing that one for the really grand gift-giving for their Emperor or something of the equivalent.
The quartermaster recommended the Lineages of House Loval, which was immediately shot down as too presumptuous at this stage of the first contact.
Senkov didn’t want the scrutiny associated with that action once they came back.
Security said, “I remember reading one of the manifestos, and we do have a copy of Meditations by Emperor Eshin I, The Enlightened in codex format. Perhaps we can create a translated book for the humans to peruse along with the original work.”
Doctor Vaner, the head of the Science division and their resident intellectual, nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I have our computers parsing multiple human languages included in the data packets, which they identify as English, German, Japanese, Chinese, and Latin. In fact, the main languages that the Galactic Empire uses German as its legal, cultural and administrative language while English is used for foreign and vernacular-”
Senkov coughed, not so subtly. “Erh, Doctor, as much as I would love to hear another informative lecture, now is not the time and place to be doing so. But thank you for your input. Meditations is a good book and one of Centauri’s intellectual legacy on being an action-oriented thinker by one of the most urbane of the Warrior Emperors. No doubt they might be able to like it.”
Commander Keemia, his XO spoke up. “Meditations as a gift is well and good, captain but I believe that some of the saplings we have at our arboretum could perhaps underline the exoticism and never before seen well, alien lifeforms, though in a much safer and harmless form as plants.”
That… was not a bad idea, Senkov thought. His XO was right on the exoticism that it might evoke. Better yet, most of the plants in the arboretum were for both aesthetic and practical purposes: first, to keep morale up for the long voyages and see something other than hallways in ship grey sprinkled with some neon colour for signage, and the void black of emptiness except for stars that broke up the monochrome.
And the second one was to augment (but not fully replace) the perishable stores of the crew.
Dr. Vaner smiled at Keemia’s direction. “Not a bad idea. We might just have something for the count to proudly display or use as a bragging piece in his social games if the political setup and cultural mores might work the same as the Centauri model, though more observation is needed to test that hypothesis. Or I may be reading into things from what information I have gleaned from the data packet.”
Inwardly Senkov thought that the Brakiri might be onto something. If he felt that the doctor could make some quick deduction about their similarities in politics… best not assume.
“Right…” Keemia said. “Moving back to plants, I think that the Living Pygmy Tree would be an excellent gift to give to the count here: it’s eight inches in height width two inches in width, very forgiving as a plant as long as it’s watered once a week, and the leaves slowly change colour depending on the mood and ambience of its location.”
The head of Engineering spoke up. “How are we going to convince our host then that the pygmy tree is just that, a tree and not some artificial construct, or gods save us, a magical plant if he was that kind of backwards thinking reactionary?”
And that, Senkov noted, was why he was never part of the negotiations or in away teams at all, unless circumstances called for his skill set in machinery and tools, which were like putty in his hands.
Keemia aware of her smoothly replied. “I’d have the good doctor over there prepare some pamphlets with easy to understand the information in it and then play it off as an exotic plant of significance in our realm. I considered Light Lilies but felt that its delicate nature might not be suitable for a being as busy as our count and it would need at least low-light conditions to fully appreciate its unique features.”
She had a thoughtful look on her face. “But if the count has a wife or a daughter then we can gift those lilies. If we have direct confirmation, that is.”
There was no sound from Engineering’s side, but a minute nod carried his assent as he crossed his arms.
“So, it’s confirmed then.” Senkov looked around. “Our starting gift to the honourable count is a translated copy of Meditations and a sapling of a Living Pygmy Tree. I wonder what the other side is thinking about in giving us.”
===
“My Lord, would perhaps the entire collection of the 1911 Edition of Britannica Encyclopedia be a suitable exchange gift to these… Centauri, I believe?”
“That is a possibility, but why should I deign to give something that is so Earth-centrist? First impressions are important and while that benighted planet is indeed where humanity came I believe that we as an entire species have all grown up and away from that infantile predilection of Earth above all.”
“My Lord, forgive me for-”
“There is nothing to forgive my good man. Odin knows that I’ve been trying to remove such a collection from the time the late Factor Osorio willed his entire Terran collection to me, no doubt to deny it to those cultists that hungered for such things. You know the rumours of his untimely death.”
“Ah, I realise it now. The Galactic Empire has the homeworld indeed, but it has moved on to better things than dwell on faded glory. And you don’t want such problems coming to light at this stage, then?”
“Quick on the uptake then. It will be inevitable, but as long as I keep them far away from those...people then I’ve succeeded in my task.”
“Understood, my lord. Perhaps this one would be most appropriate.”
===
The head of Security snorted. “Anything that isn’t a live specimen, like say a six-legged carnivore or a delicate bird that would die once you give it a strong look is fine by me.”
Dr Vaner nodded. “As long as it isn’t a “cultural” drink made of some of the strongest hallucinogens mixed with sickly sweet syrup to loosen our tongues for the ‘secret of the stars’ or to extend my compatriot’s line of thought, live specimens like slaves-” His tone became venomous, “-is fine by me.”
Senkov nodded. “On that, we are agreed. No slaves.”
He leaned back. “Now we go into who’s going to be part of the delegation tomorrow.”
Security cut in. “Captain, I’d rather have my peace of mind if there were some security personnel embedded in your team. We’re not spying of course, as we are blind on the capabilities of our hosts, but still.”
“Duly noted, major. Have security teams on standby on the ship and as protocol dictates, allow no one to come within 50 meters of the ship. But try nonlethal methods first for the curious and ”
“Are the Black Berth protocols on as of this moment?”
Senkov shook his head. “Put that on hold for now. We aren’t that desperate yet and things have not deteriorated badly that we have to resort to that. That would be a bit extreme to implement at the first step, no?”
After all, it meant that suicide was now the first response upon capture. Or have security find you and kill you instead of getting a rescue. If things had gone to the point that there was no means of escape available, then protocol dictates that the ship’s data banks must be wiped clean and the entire hull would become a massive bomb casing as the reactors overloaded by any means necessary.
“Just trying to be proper in taking precautions, sir.”
“There’s taking precautions, and there’s just paranoid aggravation, major. Have the security systems set to security level Yellow Bonnet. Limited interactions of the nonessential crew with outsiders, select vetting of those that should interact and go out as long as they have their certification in SERE in no less than six months and must bring in concealed holdout weapons. Or poison for that matter.”
The security chief said, “Sir.”
That done, Senkov resumed his topic. “Now where were we, then? Ah, yes. For the initial delegation tomorrow I along with Doctor Vaner and two of his assistants who will act as our translator and he has the practical experience to be quick on his feet.”
He looked at his “Major, I am taking your most discreet and quiet security team for protection and if need be, to act as silent listeners. Let us see if their nobility has the same issue of treating servants as furniture.”
“Captain, I am seconding Theta Team of Sergeant Devalis. They know when and where to be quiet and now their way in and out on urban terrain and close-quarter settings. Ex-special forces though not the same outfit I was in.”
“Noted. Brief them of their new duties as soon as possible.”
Looking at the quartermaster, he asked, “In terms of rations and perishables, how are we so far? Until Dr Vaner clears us for whatever these humans consume as food, we will be bringing in our own rations.”
The quartermaster was quick. “Captain, we have about 20 weeks worth of perishables at normal consumption levels, as we have filled it to regulation length before our voyage. As for rations we have consumables good for three years barring any complications.”
That was good enough.
“Commander Keemia.”
His female XO became attentive. “Captain Loval?”
“In my absence, you are to assume command as befitting your station. If all things go as planned then it’s nothing more than part and parcel of your duties and command responsibilities before my return. You are to speak in my stead and have the authority as the Acting Captain of the Good Omens.”
Nothing was certain in the life of an Imperial Explorer. And this was what Senkov was all too aware of. “And if something happens to me, you are to assume complete command of the ship. You are to either complete the task where I had left off and if things are dire, or bring the crew and the ship back to our home space.”
The woman smiled, as she runs a hand over her cropped page cut black hair. “Sir, I am ready to assume command, though if this ends well I’m returning it back to your command.”
Despite her gender, Senkov Loval trusted his second in command to do what was expected of her. If she was born a man, then those doors barred to her would have opened.
Add in that she never shaved her head as traditionally expected of her made her an anathema to polite society.
“Any questions? Dismissed.”
As the rest shuffled out, Senkov let out a breath he was holding. He was going to take a nice, long sleep.
Tomorrow would definitely tax him.
To be continued...
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