10

As soon as the Lone Raider – our Trojan DropShip - landed on the Concordat Navy base, all its cargo was transferred under military control, while several teams of scientists and technicians were busy with the samples we delivered.

Knowing what they wanted the most, I had make sure our cargo had extra samplers of Barracuda missiles, NAC/10 rounds and Ferro-Carbide armor.

While waiting for the results and the Navy decision about the veracity of the cargo, I moved to the Hôtel du Cygne – one of the best hotels in Taurus. After almost a year in DropShips and JumpShips, I wanted a bit of comfort, even if I knew deep down in me that it was going to be for a short period. The pleasures of a comfortable bed, fresh food and unlimited hot water were mine again.

I can tell you that almost a year in DropShips and JumpShips, with only a few days out in airless moons and asteroids, sucks. You can only do calisthenics to maintain your health and read, both a lot.

My mail caught with me again – the joys of long time interstellar travel. The company was doing well. During the past year they had fully rebuild the Argo machinery and hospital. They were sending me reports after reports. Boring, boring and… boring. The only interesting news was that the Revenants were returning home, after an – also boring – uneventful year in the Magistracy. Apparently no pirates had appeared in their area.

I knew that the value of my finding was much more than what I believed the Concordat was prepared to pay, so I decided to set myself a goal for the value and this from the beginning. My plan was to negotiate for about 100 million C-Bills. Not a good deal but the best price I believe I could get.

Four days later, I was called back to the Ministry of Defense. This time to talk with Marshall Joan Tharn; clearly they thought that what I found was good stuff. Good.

This time, no waiting– as soon as I registered at the reception, the same Cornet took me to much deeper in the building, to a much bigger office – I could see that rank had its privileges too.

There, I met the Marshall – a small, but energetic woman in her mid sixties I guess, with white hair and intelligent blue eyes – which was accompanied by a civilian – a tall, mid forties if my guess was right, blond with green eyes, very elegant in an impeccable business suit of the latest fashion– that the Cornet said was Lady Emma Sartre from the Exchequer. Good it could only mean one thing: the Concordat Navy was very interested if a full Marshall and someone from the Exchequer were present.

'Mister Bassot, I'm Marshall Joan Tharn. My specialists have confirmed that your samples are indeed from SLDF vintage and the Concordat Navy is interested in obtaining the full finding – provided that your inventory report is accurate.'

'Well Marshall, the lists detailing our findings are indeed accurate. Because of the nature of the hardware, me and my people are not interested in taking anything from you, so I'm in the position to sell you all of it… Provided the price is right.'

'The Concordat is prepared to offer you 100 million Bulls for the entire finding' – said the Exchequer delegate.

I couldn't contain my laugh at that.

'Please Lady Sartre, jokes aside we all know that is an insulting proposal. The value of the finding is way superior, easily in the billion of Bulls. We also know that the Navy is going to use it to rebuild the Vandenberg, and you won't be able to find a similar stock of hardware anywhere around here.'

'Excuse me, the what ?' said Joan Tharn trying to hide her surprise. I think I would have agreed that she was good at it but I was looking for any small hints and I had seen a very fast hardening in her eyes, even if it was only for just a moment. Well, anyone that obtain that rank needed to have a good poker face, no surprise there.

'Please Marshall – I said with a smirk in my face – this is one of the worst guarded secrets in the Concordat. A lot of people in the business know that the Navy have had that relic for decades and tried unsuccessfully to repair it. With my findings, you can finally turn that WarShip operational. So, please make me a decent proposal.'

'It seems that you are rather well informed, Mister Bassot – said Sartre with a disgusted expression in her face – Very well. What do you want in return, young man?'

Young man – I'm more than a decade older than you b… but you can't know that can you? -'About 200 millions C-Bills, tax free of course. We all know that this is selling the cache on the cheap side, but I'm a reasonable man, after all .'

'That's outrageous. – the Exchequer representative almost jumped out of her chair – We don't have the budget for that.'

'Nor for repairing that ship – I retorted – but I am sure we can find a compromise – I said in an amused voice – I accept being paid over a period of five years and even in Bulls. That way you can place it in your budget without much fuss.'

After a little exchange of looks between both, the Marshall turned back to me while the Exchequer woman looked defeated.

'You seem to have learned a lot in the recent time. I'm prepared to offer you 100 million C-Bills, paid in Bulls over 5 years. That is my final offer, Mister Bassot.'

Well, well – I was right about the value they were prepared to pay, after all.

'I think we have a deal here. It was a pleasure making business with you Marshall and Lady Sartre.'