Page 36 of Star Prince

“Sounds intriguing,” Ian said casually. “Tell me more.”

“Over our drinks.” Randall waved a hand at his companions. “This here’s Mike Gruber, assistant secretary of commerce. And Bud Lucarelli and Tom Dowdy, secret service.”

Ian introduced Gredda, Muffin, and Tee, pointedly switching the language from English to Basic, allowing his crew to participate in the conversation. There was another round of handshaking when Quin returned to the table with a small cask of ale and mugs. Then the two groups made Smalltalk.

Ian ignored the glass of ale Quin placed in front of him. Tee, he noticed, did the same. In fact, her original flute of mog-melon wine was still two-thirds full. Maybe the pixie was learning, after all.

“How long have you been out here, Stone?” Randall asked.

“A while. I sell Earth products. Business is good.”

“Excellent. I’d like to see more young people seeking their fortunes in the frontier. We’re the home team out here, you know. Earth.” He wrinkled his nose at Tee. “What’s that you’re drinking, young lady? It smells like hard-boiled eggs.”

The senator’s thick accent made his words tough to understand, but everyone in Ian’s party knew to what he had referred. Quin choked back a laugh, while Muffin tried hard not to smile. Tee shot them a warning glare, then curved both hands around her glass of wine. “It’s only mog-melon wine. Perhaps the odor is coming from that group over there,” she suggested.

The senator and his cohorts glanced at the particularly grubby collection of traders sitting behind them, and Ian was pleased to see them nod. Good. He didn’t want any of his crew arousing suspicions.

But Randall wasn’t done scrutinizing Tee. He refocused on her, his blue eyes intense and searching. She shrank back before appearing to catch herself. “Are you aVash Nadah?”he asked warily.

“Her,Vash?”Ian chuckled. “She’s a space drifter, through and through.” He said it to protect Tee, though he was far from convinced it was the truth.

“Yes. That’s me. Scum of the galaxy.” To Ian’s dismay, Tee lifted her flute to her lips and downed the contents in two deep swallows.

Quin chimed in. “You should have seen her the day we hired her. Had enough Mandarian whiskey in her blood to pickle a hydro-farm of Danjo shoe-beets.”

Eyes watering, Tee clasped her hands tightly atop the table and nodded. “More likely two hydro-farms.”

Randall laughed and relaxed in his chair. “That certainly doesn’t sound like your typicalVash.I’ve never seen a more self-righteous, gloom-and-doom spouting people in all my life.”

Tee’s knuckles turned white.

Ian said tightly, “For someone who’s spent a career fighting against the erosion of civil rights, don’t you think that’s a mighty big generalization?” Immediately he felt Tee’s eyes on him, and he wanted to kick himself for jumping in to defend theVashwhen he was supposed to be making friends with Randall.

The senator appeared unrepentant. “There are always exceptions. But overall I don’t trust them. They want the frontier under their thumb. But there’s a brighter future for Earth if we remain independent of that control. We have more than enough resources to survive. We don’t needVashrule.” His face came alive with passion. “I envision a future where the frontier thrives independently of theVashFederation.”

“What about that war the galaxy almost didn’t survive ten thousand years ago?”

“Eleven,” Tee corrected absently.

“Right,” Ian said, almost smiling. “Eleven.” He had wanted to hide his expert grasp of galactic history, and being corrected by a ragged-looking space drifter fed perfectly into his ploy. “Wasn’t that brought about because all the worlds and systems broke into warring factions? A few got their hands on some bad-ass weaponry and”—Ian mimicked the sound of an explosion— “it was almost ‘game over’ for civilization. I don’t particularly like the idea of heading down that road again, do you? Not after everything’s been stable for so long.”

He realized that Tee was watching him in shock. He gave her a quick smile to reassure her. What was wrong? Didn’t she agree with him? Swallowing hard, she lowered her eyes to her tightly clenched hands.

“There must be a way we can stay part of the Federation for protection and still hang onto our identity as a planet.” Ian was operating without a script now. Rom hadn’t cleared him to negotiate; the king of the galaxy hadn’t even cleared him to talk to Randall. But he wouldn’t have chosen Ian as his successor if he didn’t believe he could think creatively and independently.

“Romlijhian B’kah chose his stepson as the next king,” he said to Randall. “Talk about having friends in high places… Don’t you think it’d be better to be part of the Federation than opposed to it?”

“There’s more to it than just influence—or thelack thereof,” the senator argued. “TheVashdon’t view the frontier—or us—as they do the central area of their empire. We’re beneath their regard.” The senator glanced at Tee, as if he were still unsure of her. Then he lowered his voice. “I have proof. I’ve seen the darker side, Stone—poverty, disease, and apathy. My associate took me to Sorak Seven, Lanat, Barésh.”

Ian glanced up sharply. Muffin frowned. Randall had an associate? Whom was he working with?

“Those worlds are nothing more to theVashthan distant slave pits,” Randall continued. “I saw primitive medical care, substandard housing, hungry and overworked populations. The galaxy isn’t the Shangri-La they claim it is,” he said. “Earth needs to know that.”

Yeah, Ian thought grimly, so do theVash.

“What’s happened to those planets could happen to us,” Randall concluded, “unless we assert ourselves.”

Ian stiffened. He was within a hair’s-breadth of telling Randall who he was, right here, right now, so they could roll up their sleeves and hash out possible solutions instead of chatting over glasses of ale. But instinct told him to proceed with caution.

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