Part 119: Political Vote 6 - Sabotage and Piracy
Sabotage and Piracy: Political Vote 6“It’s too dangerous. We should just shell them with our artillery until they surrender.”
“They're too well entrenched, you'd run out of ammo before you did any serious harm.”
Morgan Kell grinned infectiously, “Trust me, Captain-General, we’re used to it. Sneaking in and escaping the jaws of certain death is an area where the Red Corsair excels.”
Duncan Marik frowned, “It’s statements like which make me doubt your veracity.”
Melissa ran her fingers through her long, brightly-dyed hair. “Captain-General, we’re pirates. If the rest of the band landed on that mountain, they must believe it’s important. You can’t blast them out, and by the time you come up with another strategy it’s going to be too late. Let us do it. We can sneak in, find out what they’re doing, and find—or make—a weakness you can exploit.”
Duncan Marik sucked in a breath. “You must think I’m stupid,” he replied after a few minutes, “I must be stupid for even considering letting you waltz right back into your cohorts like nothing ever happened.”
Melissa frowned, “We’re not just going to walk in. We’re going to infiltrate—”
He held up a hand to forestall her. “Your advice has been good to me so far. I do see the wisdom of a commando raid—but I’m the head of a nation; and a nation that has the power to remove me from office if I don’t plan properly. If I let you go, there will be questions.”
Melissa stood quietly, trailing a fingertip over her lower lip in contemplation. “Tell them,” she began after a few moments, “that you decided to give us one last opportunity to prove we’re not Pirates. In your generosity, you gave us three days to crack Nagayan Mountain. If you haven’t heard back from us by then—”
“Then chances are, we’ll already be dead,” Morgan finished, “and you’ll lose nothing in the bombardment.”
“That’s not really reassuring.”
**********
“He’s a big one,” Ardan Sortek murmured quietly as a set of heavily reinforced doors yielded to the House Kurita delegate.
“House Kurita hasn’t sent an embassy since the first succession war,” Hanse smiled, “he must be desperate if he’s sending one now.”
Bald and overweight, the Kurita ambassador bore an uncanny resemblance to a cheap golden Buddha. Swathed in a kimono of gaudy purple silk, the golden dragons embroidered on the sleeves and left breast left no doubt from where he hailed.
“Perhaps the Clans are a bigger threat than we thought,” Quintus Allard replied in cool tones. “The Smiling One makes verifying information from the Combine quite difficult, but the Lyrans are—” Quintus interrupted himself, “—he has an Arkab with him. That’s interesting.”
“Any idea who Takashi ‘honored’ us with?” Hanse asked, his gaze sweeping the dignitary’s escort. Gaunt as a skeleton, the tall Arkab man walked a half-step behind his fat master, flanked on the other side by a slender, attractive young woman in a subdued gray Kimono. A wife, or concubine perhaps, but Hanse felt her presence unusual. A precise three steps behind everyone followed a pair of women in impractical body armor: apparently bodyguards, they wore holsters and scabbards though neither was armed. Hanse dismissed them out of hand, since they had apparently been chosen more for their bust-size than any actual ability.
“I don’t recognize him,” Quintus replied quietly. “I’ve already got teams on it.”
“This is damned peculiar,” Sortek added. “I know border tensions have eased since ComStar threatened us with an interdiction, but—”
Hanse nodded, “I know, old friend. If Quintus doesn’t know why he’s here, I suppose we’ll just have to wait for the snake to tell us himself.”
The Kuritan diplomat stopped, and dropped into a low—if comedic—bow. He straightened slowly, the effort both of walking across the room and standing back up having already made his forehead break out in a light sweat. His smile, at least, seemed warm and genuine.
“I bring you greetings, Prince Hanse Davion, from the most honorable Takashi Kurita,” the diplomat began, in English so heavily accented he was nearly a self-parody. “Please allow this humble servant to first present his entourage: My bodyguards, Tsukino Usagi and Yuri Kei—”
They nodded in turn, and were just as quickly dismissed.
“—And my aide, the Mirza Peter Abdulsattah.”
“Interesting,” Quintus murmured, “Mirza means ‘prince’.”
“An insult, you think?” Hanse asked wryly.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Sortek chuckled.
“I,” the ambassador from the Draconis Combine continued, either not acknowledging or simply failing to remember the young woman that was the fifth member of his party, “am Chandrasekhar Kurita, humble servant of the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and I,” he paused momentarily to opening his arms wide in a friendly gesture, “am at your disposal, Prince Hanse Davion.”
Deeper in the room, James Sandoval, Duke of Robinson, spat on the floor in disgust.
Hanse stood, staring quietly at the Kurita—the first to ever set foot on New Avalon. The man was unprepossessing, and looked foolish in his gaudy attire. “Is this some sort of insult?” Hanse asked pointedly.
Chandrasekhar laughed, not unpleasantly. “No, Prince Davion, I assure you it is not. The message I bear is from the Coordinator himself. He felt,” Chandrasekhar paused, “that it would be better received if it were delivered by an actual Kurita. Since I am the most expendable Kurita, I was chosen.”
“Over my protests that a diplomat would be better suited to the task than a warrior or merchant,” He grinned, “but you know how the coordinator is.”
Hanse frowned, “I do indeed.”
Chandrasekhar bowed his head. “As without, so within. He is a stubborn fool and, were we in the Combine, I would be executed for saying so. Were I not also a Kurita.”
“I am a man,” Chandrasekhar continued, “who dearly loves the Draconis Combine, unhealthy as it may be to admit as such in this unusual company. I know you in the Federated Suns dislike long-windedness, so I will be brief: We are withdrawing our troops from the contested worlds along the border that we may better oppose the Clan threat.”
“Bullshit!” James Sandoval growled, “Takashi Kurita would never give away—”
“Yet he is,” Chandrasekhar interrupted, “doing just that. Is already doing so, in fact.”
“Can you confirm that, Quintus?” Hanse murmured softly.
“We cede these worlds to you because we face a threat more grave than any we have yet known: the return of what can only be the remnants of the Star League Defense Force. Kerensky’s people,” Chandrasekhar raised a hand, and the Mirza strode forward, setting a briefcase on the floor half-way between the Kurita ambassador and the Davion prince, “have already destroyed a portion of ComStar’s HPG network. Perhaps that is the only area they wish to conquer, but I have my doubts.”
He gestured at the briefcase, “As a gift—I present to you what little information our humble intelligence service has managed to gather on the Clans; and as well as a warning: if they can destroy part of the HPG network to ease their conquest, they can destroy the entire thing.”
“I do not ask for you to stand with us, Prince Davion; nor would the Coordinator allow such a thing to stand. I do ask you to turn your attention away from hastening our demise.” Chandrasekhar took a breath, as if the Combine’s present weakness had taken all his will to admit. He gestured at the case again, “If we fail, you will need everything at your disposal to face that.”
Chandrasekhar Kurita turned, flanked by his bodyguards, to leave.
“Wait,” Hanse Davion commanded in firm tones. “Was this truly ordered by Takashi Kurita?”
“Yes,” Chandrasekhar replied, “although to my folly: the plan itself was mine. I had originally hoped to convince you to let us hire some of your mercenaries as well—under specific contracts, that would preclude us using them against you—but I find it unlikely you would accept such a thing.”
“Highly unlikely,” Hanse Davion agreed with a thoughtful expression. He pursed his lips as he considered the gift laying ignored—half-way between him and the Kurita. “Takashi could have sent this message by more quickly through ComStar.”
“More quickly sent,” Chandrasekhar countered, “and even more quickly ignored. Or ‘lost.’ We do not trust ComStar to a task this vital. Were you a citizen of the Combine, we would have sent a tea-master instead.”
“Ambassador Kurita,” Hanse Davion replied, “if you are content to avail yourself to our hospitality, I will formulate a reply for your honorable master.”
Chandrasekhar bowed, “Thank you, Prince Davion. That is a greater concession than even I was expecting.”
Political Vote 6: Hanse’s Reply:
A) This is an obvious lie, pay lip-service to peace then attack the Benjamin military district.
B) House Kurita is desperate and weak, pay lip-service to peace then attack the Pesht military district.
C) This may be a lie, but give Kurita the benefit of the doubt, take the opportunity to conduct “Operation Galahad,” a massive training and logistics exercise.
D) We need more time to decide, please remain here on New Avalon (Status Quo)
E) Our troops will stand down, and we invite you to remain on New Avalon as a guest to further diplomatic relations.
F) We invite you to remain on New Avalon as a ‘guest’ while we assess the ‘gift’ you’ve given us. Attempts to return to your dropship or leave the planet would be unwise.
G) The Capellans are the clear-and-present danger anyway, attack the St. Ives Commonality in response to Liao’s failed raid on Towne.