Billy stepped through door leading to the commercial passenger terminal at Canberra Star City. Quickly identifying a public information terminal, he walked towards it. When queried, he punched in the name "Siren's Call". The terminal quickly calculated a route to the Karaoke bar. Copying the route to his personal communicator he walked off in the direction of the bar. As he walked, he noticed small things that reminded him of old times. Sure, things had evolved, but remnants of the Vagrant Raiders where found wherever he looked.
Billy walked through the door to the Siren's Call Karaoke bar, a bit after the lunch rush. Fairly quiet, he walked over to the receptionist. Hello, I have a meeting scheduled, Taskmaster Escher gave me this location? The Receptionist immediately pointed Billy towards the back of the Karaoke bar, something Billy assumed the receptionist did fairly often. Thanking them, he walked back and opened the door. Fairly well appointed, the room was dominated by a large conference table. Billy, realizing he was the first to arrive, pulled out a small commercial holographic projector and put it down in the center of the table. Keying his communicator the projector hummed to life, and displayed a model of the Nightmare along with some general statistics.
Billy sat down and waited for his hosts from the Natio Octavarium.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
A young Kusarian quietly entered the bar, wearing a loosely-fitting black coat with a hood hanging slightly over their face. A lanky green-haired bouncer intercepted them, barking out a curt, "Hoods down." The new arrival simply looked up in response, showing their face. "Oh, sorry Perry, didn't realize it was you. Go on ahead. Got a visitor."
"So I'd heard," 'Perry' replied quietly. "You should consider reducing the volume of your disclosure," they added, with the faintest hint of annoyance in their otherwise level, soft voice.
"... what?"
'Perry' sighed and simplified, "You're too loud about my business." Brushing past the bouncer, they glanced over at the stage. A small, bespectacled blonde woman had just taken the stage, and the Commission agent regretted being unable to stay and listen. But duty calls. They casually glided through the crowds and entered the private lounge without another sound. Slowly and gently closing the door behind them, they looked over the room. Escher had ordered refurnishing, apparently, but that was little surprise.
"You must be Mr. Xae," the agent said, lowering their hood and drawing their long, black hair back into a low ponytail. "I'm called Paracusia, or Perry if you prefer. I work for the Octavarium Intelligence Commission as a liaison for a variety of parties, and today I'm standing in for Escher. Kane should be along shortly." They maintained a steady, softly professional tone, one that had clearly been practiced thoroughly.
"Evening, Ricky," Harold called out to the bouncer. "Perry in yet?"
The bouncer nodded silently and jerked a thumb toward the VIP lounge of the Siren's Call. Harold looked at him quizzically; usually the emerald-headed slab of meat was more vocal. "Everything okay, bud?" he asked out of a mix of friendly conversation and genuine concern.
"Fine, Mr. Kane-- er, Harold," came the response.
Harold cocked his head slightly. "Well, alright then. See you later," he said, patting the bouncer's shoulder as he walked into the club. The last time he was here, he didn't remember much. He was pretty sure that he came in already probably too drunk to serve, which was definitely the opposite of tonight. Business was the reason for the visit, an occasion that seemed odd to him to hold in the VIP lounge of a karaoke bar, but Escher was the handler in charge of the operation this meeting regarded, so odd was to be expected.
He found his way back to the booth that Paracusia and their contact were sat at and unzipped his leather jacket. "Hope I'm not too late," he said, hanging the jacket up on the stand next to the booth. He sat next to the Commission agent and looked their way. "Perr-Perr. Good to see you, as always." He quickly turned to the other person at the table and smiled. "Billy Xae, correct? Welcome to Canberra."
As the door opened, Billy looked up and observed the young Kusari woman enter the room. Observing her movements and demeanor as she introduced herself, Billy was unable to get a clear read. Clearing his throat, he stood up. Yup, you're correct. William Xae, at your service...well, Billy. Never quite liked William, to formal for my usual company. I trust Taskmaster Escher has filled you in?
As Billy waited for an answer, the door opened a second time and in walked Harold Kane. As Taskmaster-Adjutant Kane spoke, Billy nodded to affirm. Thank you Taskmaster Kane, I appreciate the hospitality. Canberra is an impressive station, Petrucci would be proud of what you have accomplished. Additionally, I would be remiss if I did not thank you for all the support the Natio Octavarium have given me as I sorted out the situation with the Nightmare. She was a strong ship, and certainly deserves a better fate than floating in the Barrier Nebula as a derelict. Billy pushed a button on his datapad, and the holographic display expanded slightly, showing a more detailed view of the Nightmare, highlighting some of the critically damaged areas.
I've entered into a Contract with the Junker Congress, or rather a member of the Congress to repair and remanufacture the Nightmare. I've been assured it can be done, regardless of the...extensive damage that the ship suffered. Most of the work is identified in the highlighted portions of this schematic, however a lot of work needs to be done on all systems. Billy sat down across from his Octavarian hosts, and flashed a small smile. Turns out warship technology marches on, especially during conflicts. Pretty much every internal system is antiquated to the point it would not do very well in a high-intensity combat situation.
Billy keyed his datapad and the holographic projection disappeared. Leaning forward, he placed the device down on the conference table. And so it comes to the main reason behind this meeting. So far I have been operating as an interested third party in the reconstruction of the Nightmare as the ship is officially property of the Vagrant Raiders, and by extension the Natio Octavarium. I have been funding this reconstruction effort using a Slush Fund the late Blain Spike left me upon his death. Turns out he didn't trust people very much, he always thought someone was out for his head. Alas, that is all ancient history now, and the toxic environment he fostered in the Raiders is all but a distant memory.
So, the million credit question. Does the Natio Octavarium have any intention of reclaiming the Nightmare, and if not what could I offer you to purchase or otherwise acquire the full rights to the Nightmare?
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
A waitress with short electric blue hair came by and set down three pint glasses and a pitcher of beer in the center of the table -- almost certainly one of the locally-produced lagers, knowing tastes around here -- and a gin and tonic for Harold. She disappeared as quickly as she had practically willed herself into existence.
As he took a sip of his mysteriously-appearing cocktail, he nodded. "The complex part about running a warship up here is being stuck between several extremely dense rocks and a hard place," he said as he sat the drink back down. "The wonderful folks from Crayter will absolutely shit themselves if they see a Storta around, and will probably drool on the 'fire everything' button without even bothering to listen to you as you try to convince them you're not an Outcast. Malta can't figure out how to have any sort of sane authoritative organization or even any sort of proper records-keeping for more than nine months at a time, so they might think you're some kind of thief or something like that, and random families will refuse to listen to your story as well."
He poured a beer and smiled. "The good thing is, we won't be a problem for you. And we can try to convince Crayter that you're not, in fact, a Maltese strike force. All my department wants in return is that if you're going to make any trouble, don't bring it to Canberra. The Quartermaster's office wanted a valuation and appropriate payment but I told them the ship technically wasn't worth anything to us because it wasn't in our possession and was written off years ago, so they'll send over the paperwork to transfer the title of the ship to you once this meeting has concluded."
"Of course, that's just the Relations side of things." Harold took a sip of his pint -- definitely Lyneham Gold Lager -- and paused for a moment. "I'm sure my friend from Intelligence here has something to relay from everyone's favourite spooky Taskmaster."
He grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl that had quietly appeared on the table at some point in the past few minutes.
Paracusia poured themselves a glass and consulted their tablet. Of course, the Ministry of Intelligence had already made their decision, but there was value in the show. They looked up from the device and smiled slightly. "Escher is in agreement with Harry here. Local conditions are somewhat less than ideal for a Storta, and our maintenance facilities are somewhat limited." Taking a sip from their glass, though not recognizing the brew, they glanced back down at their notes. Right, I need to check with the Endecotts after this about the Premonition's power grid. Again.
Returning the device to their coat and leaning forward, Paracusia's smile faded and their voice took on a more serious tone. "There are two requests the Commission would make, however. First, our neighbors are not the most reliable sorts. Should an emergency arise, we would appreciate your assistance in dealing with whatever crises may arise. Secondly... we expect that you will be travelling, and putting the vessel to work. There is a lot that can be learned from those travels, and we would welcome any information that may be of use to us." They smiled softly and leaned back in their chair, relaxing a little. "We're not asking you to be a spy - intelligence work is not at all what the movies would say. It's much less infiltration, and much more information analysis. Just, you know, share anything that seems significant. Odd Navy movements, sudden changes in shipping, that sort of thing."
Their beer had been sipped some, but clearly Perry was taking a practiced slowness to it to keep their wits sharp.
Billy listened to both of his hosts points, nodding as they went and tapping a few notes into his datapad as it went. Most of the requests where fairly standard, however Billy was slightly surprised by the lack of request for compensation for the vessel. Well, I don't see any problems with any of the requests, and given the nature of the Nightmare I certainly can understand trying to keep any sort of involvement/association hidden. I've already asked the workers at Vieques to repaint the Nightmare to remove any Vagrant Raiders markings or anything that could ultimately be traced back to the Natio Octavarium. Outside of the IFF Identification beacon, which is in the process of being recoded to identify the ship as the MCS-Nightmare there will be no external features that can tie the ship to the Vagrant Raiders and by extension the Natio Octavarium. Pausing for a second to collect his thoughts, he reached over and poured a glass of the unknown beer.
Taking a sip of the Lager, Billy enjoyed the difference in flavor from his usual drink of choice, Liberty Ale. Pondering some of the Octavarian's points, he put down the glass. Regarding assistance, I understand that unrest in Sirius has gotten very much out of hand. Between the War in the Taus and Gallia, the ongoing Civil War in Rheinland, and the constant uncertainty of the Omicron's having friends to support you is very important. So if...or rather when the Natio Octavarium needs support I will be happy to provide it. My only request is to not make me engage in fights with other groups who have lent a hand in the reconstruction efforts, namely the Junkers. And lastly, regarding the passing of Intelligence. If we see anything of note, we will pass it along. Perhaps setting up a backchannel for such dialogues would be appropriate, once the Nightmare is operational.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
Paracusia glanced over at Kane, expecting the former Minister of Relations to chime in first. Instead, he seemed to be content with his beer. The Commission agent was never entirely sure how much of Kane's casual demeanor was an act, especially with the aftermath of the Redshift incident leaving certain parties with concern for his judgment. So far, there haven't been any issues, especially with the reduced duties the former Minister had taken on.
Weighing their options regarding Xae's conditions, Paracusia chose honesty. "We've never had any issues with the Junkers on an organizational level. On your way in, you might have seen a number of ships we bought from them. Of course you get the occasional fool that gets out over his skis, but nothing that would require the assistance of a warship. So if your only condition is that you not take Nightmare into combat against Junkers, I think we'll have an agreement."
Paracusia glanced over at Kane again before continuing, not liking the idea of directly contradicting one of the founders of Natio Octavarium, even moreso having to return to an earlier topic to do so. "But I think I have to disagree with Harry about financial compensation. I'm not worried about making money off this exchange, but we count among our population many refugees of the Gallic invasion. The presence of an additional Octavarian warship would be comforting, regardless of its origins, and if it comes to light that we let it go free of charge... there will be discontent." They paused, and took another sip from their glass. "Nightmare was in pretty sorry shape when you found her though, wasn't she? We can use that to your advantage - we're not selling you a ship. We're selling you a salvaging claim. Far cheaper, and comes with a baked-in explanation for why we didn't claim the ship - we don't have the facilities for that, especially considering the origin."
Kane was accustomed to leading a band of pirates that valued the ability to disappear into the Barrier, but civilians aboard a city-station have different concerns - concerns that were often very profitable in the agent's previous line of work.
Billy pondered the words of the Intelligence agency, and the political ramifications of what Paracusia had said. Pulling up a digital calculator app on his datapad, he punched in a few numbers. Nodding to himself, he took a sip of beer and spoke.I'll be honest, I expected to come here and fill out a fairly significant check to secure the rights. Given your situation, and the requirements of defending a civilian population. However, I have a potential solution to that. Keying the holographic projector, it fizzed to life with a small pop and displayed the Nightmare's status. Keying a button on his datapad, the display changed to display the electrical subsystems of the Nightmare.
In her death throes the Nightmare executed a full system purge, wiping out all ship control software onboard and activated a thermite charge to physically destroy any data storage devices embedded in her computer array. I can only assume it was a failsafe installed to stop anyone from recovering any sensitive data. However, this leaves a problem. Currently the Nightmare does not have any functioning computer systems. As much as I trust the Junkers to weld and make physical repairs to the vessel, some of the more intricate functions a warship must perform. I can find a suitable Navigation and Navigation Control System on the black market, however a suitable Combat System and Electronic Warfare suite will be sufficiently harder to source. I've been researching suitable firms for this work, and a certain Weapons System manufacturer caught my eye. Billy put down his datapad and leaned forward, interlocking his fingers.
Aquila Defense Systems is wholly owned and operated by Civilians from the Natio Octavarium, correct? Well, with your blessing I'd like to reach out to a Company Rep and request a quote for a full Ship Computer Systems overhaul as well as overseeing the overhaul, design, installation, and testing of all shipboard weapons systems. Considering the task, I can only infer that the company would need to hire more engineers and technicians to complete the work, bringing additional money into Canberra's economy. This would be in addition to a "salvage" fee that I will offer to pay for the hull of the Nightmare.
And lastly, regarding the presence of an additional warship. If you can convince the Crayter Republic that the Nightmare is not an Outcast manned vessel, I see no problem with operating in the vicinity of Canberra. Officially under contract, but we can write up a contract that lists the Nightmare's presence would be gratis. I will need to train my crew to operate efficiently, perhaps some cross-training and simulated wargames would be in order to help prepare the two crews to work together should a conflict come to Canberra's doorstep. What do you think?
Billy leaned back in his chair, sipping his beer.
Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.
Harold smiled. Even without Escher being physically present, it was still possible to play "good cop bad cop" and let the Commission be the bad cop.
"I believe that will work," he said. "Officially, the Nightmare's 'title' so to speak will be transferred to you as salvage, on the condition that you are responsible for its recovery and repairs, and that the ship will be able to assist in the defense of Natio assets if called upon. I will make the necessary arrangements to get an Aquila account manager assigned to you; they'll mark you down as an Octavarium-aligned mercenary company on the paperwork. You'll probably get a minor repairs contract along with the systems overhaul, which will be good if you get into any scraps in the neighbourhood and need a few holes plugged. Anything approaching 'reactor breach' will likely need to be serviced elsewhere; we barely have the room in Aquila's mobile docking facilities to service our own warships, frankly."
"The Commission will need to authorize the release of any electronic warfare assets, but Aquila should be able to make the arrangements with the Commission directly for that. We don't just give the good stuff to anyone with a questionably-sourced tub of cash, so there are a few hoops for most buyers to jump through, and that's the big one. Aquila will be able to produce standard open-market weapons and reinforcement grades for you as well. Anything exotic, they can install, but you're on your own for finding them."
He coughed after swallowing the unexpectedly-bitter dregs of his beer. The last part of the puzzle was the most complex one, in his mind.
"Crayter is my department. I'll ensure the good word reaches their ears in a timely manner. And if they need some help hearing it, well... we'll burn that bridge when we get to it."
