Athan skidded to a stop just outside the hatch leading into the docking bay, straightening his tattered nerf hide jacket one last time. He willed himself through the door, determined to meet this new development head-on, for good or bad. He worked up what he was fairly sure to be a convincing smile, taking the newcomer's hand in both of his and shaking it gingerly.
“This is Lady Shen Farool, Chief Administrator of TransGalMeg Industries and governor of the sovereign planet Narg,” Erek Joron announced.
“How sovereign is a planet that's ruled by a corporation?” Lady Farool mused, returning Athan's smile with one that was considerably more convincing.
“Umm, uhh . . .”
“Not very,” Miko Minn offered, patting Erek's shoulder reassuringly.
“I am not here in any official capacity,” Lady Farool explained, then leaned a little closer to Athan and whispered: “I ran away from home.”
Athan found himself laughing at the youthful exuberance of the woman, and nodded understandingly as he gestured to the exit. “Perhaps you would like a tour?”
“Ships are all the same,” Lady Farrol responded absently, turning to look at a group of mechanics on the far side of the bay. “People. Now there's something to marvel at.”
Athan took a long moment to study the woman. “Lady Farool, if you don't mind my asking―
“I wish to speak with the Mon Calamari . . . and the Quarren, of course,” She stated plainly, cutting off the Ryn.
“All of them?” He asked, grinning sheepishly.
“As many as I can manage,” She conceded, and then turned back to her shuttle. “You're all more than welcome to accompany me to the surface,” She added, a comment which confused more than one of the group's members.
“I'll clear it with traffic control,” Athan reported, making for the dock's exit.
“That's not very exiting,” The woman said, then rushed for the shuttle's access ramp.
Athan reversed direction and bolted for the ramp, making it just as the others did, which is to say: just in time. He spent the entire descent holding his commlink up to his mouth, bickering with the Aqualish traffic control operator.
The shuttle came to rest on the floating cargo dock, and Lady Farool rushed unceremoniously from the transport, running toward the first Mon Calamari she saw. He was sitting on the edge of a walkway, his feet dangling over the edge and into the water. A bulky control mechanism was sitting on his lap, which he was using to operate a nearby crane.
“Excuse me,” Lady Farool said, drawing closer to the fish-man.
He took one look at the Chief Administrator and immediately jumped to his feet, setting the device aside. He took her hand in both of his and bowed deeply, obviously picking up on her regal dress. “M'lady.”
“Please,” She said, withdrawing her hand gently. “Call me Shen.”
The Coalition delegates finally caught up to her, Athan still amused by her near-childish acts.
“Lady Shen,” The Mon Cal said, bobbing his head slightly.
She chuckled, ignoring the rest of them but turning to look at the control device he had been manipulating.
“The Ryn are doing the best they can,” The Mon Cal said, following her gaze. “They just weren't equipped for aquatic work.”
She snapped her attention back to him. “I'm sorry. May I ask your name, kind sir?”
“Maurack, formerly of Wildwater City, Dac.”
“If you don't mind, could we talk for a while?” Shen asked kindly.
Maurack glanced to Athan, who he apparently recognized, and Athan shrugged uncertainly. “Of course. Should we go inside?”
But Lady Shen was already tugging at her robes, sitting down right where she was. Maurack flapped his mouth open in surprise, then sat down beside Shen, who was removing her shoes and then hung them over the side, dipping them into the Ando ocean. He followed suit happily. “Tell me about your journey,” She said after a long moment, staring off at the horizon.
“The evacuation was holy hell,” He said, his mouth flapping oddly as he realized how crude the statement sounded. “Those Eastern boys don't play around. But they got us out, that's for sure. We got stuck at Teth for a while; that wasn't pretty, what with the Phage and all, but they took as good care of us as anybody else running from the Dragons.
“It wasn't until the Cooperative sent their boys over that stuff really started rolling. They pulled the Chadra-Fan into the mix, then hooked us up with the Aqualish here, and then forged right on toward the West, founding a colony on Ketaris along the way! I'll tell you one thing: whatever you may hear about the Ryn, they sure know how to fix a lost cause. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise. The Aqualish just about had to run 'em offworld here . . . now don't get me wrong: the Aqualish were ready to go, had construction plans and demographic maps laid out and everything by the time we got here . . .
“But the Ryn; the Ryn haven't stopped since they started, and nobody started until the Ryn made them. Whoever's holding their leash, handing them orders, flying them around: I hope they know what they've gotten their hands on. They've got the whole Coalition huddled around us now; I even hear the Cereans are gearing up to host a colony. The Cereans!”
Shen's gaze had drifted toward Athan, who had sat down nearby, crossing his legs. “I'm terribly sorry,” She said, still talking to Maurack, “I seem to have misunderstood. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."
“Not at all, Madam. Not at all.”
Shen rose to her feet, shoes in hand, and bowed respectfully to the Mon Calamari. “Thank you for your time, Maurack.” And then she was off once again, apparently on her way back to her shuttle. The Coalition members once again made it just in time, and once again Athan spent the transit time on his commlink, arguing with traffic control.
The moment they touched down on the Ryn ship, Lady Farool rushed out of the shuttle, scampering across the docking bay, nearly shouting at a Ryn technician. “Tell me how you got here,” She said eagerly, her mind so set that she had forgotten even to introduce herself.
The Ryn quickly surveyed her regal dress, and then shook his head, almost shamefully. “Aww, you wouldn't want to hear a boring ole' story like that . . .”
“Of course I would.”
* * *
Four days later, Toggeus, Narg
If there was any species in the galaxy so appropriately equipped to weather the spiteful glares cast at them, it was the Ryn. At least that's what Athan kept telling himself as he made his way toward the table. He took his seat directly opposed to Lady Farool, marveling at her stately composure. Ambassador Joron was to one side and Admiral Blakeley to the other, opposing Lady Farool's Narg and TransGalMeg subordinates respectively.
This meeting was considerably smaller than the other, composed of only three members from Narg and three from TGM, with the three Coalition officials already mentioned and Captain Zive Brintt the only Coalition members present.
“Shall we begin?” Lady Farool said, her tone inquisitive but her features not at all so. “Ladies, Gentlemen: I present Ambassador Athan of the Ryn clan Sahalan.”
“Since when do Ryn have clans?” Administrator Joraal asked accusingly.
Lady Farool smiled at Athan, giving the slightest nod. “Since our people gained a seat on the Cooperative Combined Council and seized the respect we deserve,” He responded, careful to keep his tone even. He sensed the slightest shaking of Lady Farool's head; perhaps he had gone a little too far, considering those were the first words he had “officially” spoken to any TransGalMeg officials.
It put Administrator Joraal in his place, though. At least for the moment. “I have consulted at length with both the Board of Administrators and the Narg House of Representatives,” Lady Farool said, staring Athan straight in the eye. “I have weighed the opinions and reasons expressed to me carefully, and have noted those for and against this proposed Coalition alliance. I have been forced to consider both sides of the very strange coin which time and pressure have minted here on Narg, and I have reached a decision.
“With a plurality assent of the Narg House of Representatives and the consent of the Board of Administrators of TransGalMeg Industries, I officially request permission to enter into negotiations with the Cooperative of Systems on behalf of Narg, and Cestus Cybernetics on behalf of TransGalMeg Industries; the aim being to revise the proposed treaties presented and enter Narg as a member of the Cooperative of Systems and the Galactic Coalition of Planets under more mutually amicable terms, and secure a partnership between TransGalMeg Industries and Cestus Cybernetics under similar terms.”
Athan allowed himself a sigh of relief, taking note of the smug satisfaction on Administrator Joraal's face, and the submissive acknowledgment on Torran Hyjal's. He nodded, smiling, and then accepted the datapad that Lady Farool handed him. “Permission to begin a Ryn-led construction project in high orbit, for the creation of spaceports to serve the needs of the Coalition trade route,” She explained.
Athan's eyes widened in shock and he smiled again, tucking the datapad away safely. “This meeting is at an end,” She announced before Athan could respond. She gestured for her subordinates to scatter, making it clear that the Coalition delegation should remain.
“The Ryn are truly a noble race,” She said after a long moment, glancing from one individual to another. “The Cooperative is truly a noble establishment. I will do everything in my power to ensure that you both receive all that you deserve. I truly believe that if anyone can integrate Narg into the galaxy once more, it is the Cooperative. I truly believe that if any establishment can raise TransGalMeg to its former glory and beyond, it is the Ryn Nation. All of my faith is in you now.”
Fifteen minutes later, the small band of Coalition officials was on its way into space, moving out to set everything in motion. “You Ryn sure did a number on that lady,” Erek commented, glancing sideways to Athan. “How many of you guys did she talk to?”
“About two dozen, ranging from the captain of the ship to that first technician she ambushed. Yeah, I think we made an impression on her.” Athan flashed toothy smile.
“I'm still a little confused about it all,” The Rattataki captain admitted, looking to Erek to make sure he didn't react inappropriately.
“The burden of leading a people―even in the best of times―is . . . unimaginable,” Miko Minn spoke up, staring at the deck plating. “The burden of leading a major corporation is equally so. Add to that the turmoil pervasive in the galaxy and an existing native xenophobia . . . how
do you Ryn do it?”
Athan smiled. “Counterweights.
We're building the Cooperative.
We're saving the Dac refugees.
We're building the hyperroute. None of it's entirely true, but everyone's pretending like it is, which means everyone is pretending like we're more important than we really are. After generations of slavery, poverty, and racism;
we have risen. We have risen on the shoulders of the Cooperative, hand-in-hand with all the others given up for dead. We stand shoulder to shoulder with the fallen people of Onyx and the outcast sons of Dac.
“For the first time since our people started writing their tales, this one is one to be proud of. We trudge on . . . because finally we are permitted to trudge forward.”
“And your boys said all of that to her?” Erek asked, obviously reading all of the propaganda and nationalism in the answer, but obviously respecting the underlying truth of the statement.
Athan shook his head. “They didn't have to. She looked right through them, and saw it in them.”
This much was sure: Lady Shen Farool, Chief Administrator of TransGalMeg Industries and Governor of the sovereign planet of Narg was the type of person any being would want on their team. Fortunately, the Ryn had convinced her that the Cooperative was the kind of team she wanted to be on.
