Orbital Station
MGG-8, in orbit via Gamor
Several hours had passed after Ryols had landed on the old Telgorn-built platform. He had inspected it accompanied by his pair of guardian C1s in a matter of minutes and had found it substantially dull place. At one point, perhaps even as few as several days ago, it had been a Mining Guild ore transport point. Yet now, he had found no-one, not even a cleaning droid, aboard the flower-shaped structure. The only thing unusual he had found aboard the station was an abnormal about of a red chalky substance which covered most of the internal bays, which hand-held sensors had indicated was most likely dust from Hfredium ore mined from the world resting beneath them. He almost leaned up against the hold's bay but caught himself.
“I don't get it N987,” murmured the man, “who do you think is lying?”
“It is possible that it is neither,” suggested the droid, “that there is a third party involved that neither of them are aware of.”
“Doubt it,” said the man from Genarius, “I mean, on a world somewhere, or maybe even on a large ship, sure. But on a ship that size? There weren't that many people on a ship to have a population large enough to move that many crates somewhere else without one of them knowing about it...”
“I do not sir. I am not a detective,” replied the droid, pointing a silver finger to distant speck that appeared out of the hangar's mag-con field, “but I do know that is one of our vessels.”
Sure enough, the speck grew into two objects, which in turn grew into the pair of CG-10s that Commodore N835 had withdrawn from Ryol's group back to the fleet. They passed through the field with the characteristic pop of the containment field to land right behind the two other CG-10s already onboard the station. As they did, another vessel swooped in to enter the field: a gray Mneffe-class superluminal shuttle.
Rare to see a vessel that old these days, but it looks like it's in pretty good shape. Maybe the Mining Guild had it stashed away somewhere as old surplus before the rebels took over...The winged craft drifted over to the opposite side of the hangar and began to set down. As it did, Ryols found himself following in N987's wake to meet the lowering ramp of the lead CG-10. Before the ramp had completely lowered, Commodore N835 had already stepped off the ramp and had began walking towards the rebel's craft. The droid commander spared a quick glance at the man.
“I trust nothing has changed since our last communication.”
“No sir.”
“Good,” affirmed the droid, coming to a stop in front of the civilian shuttle.
A brief spout of air hissed out of the side of the craft as a door slid open to reveal Krag, an almost human-looking being with strangely tinted orange hair and large charcoal-colored eyes. He still wore a Mining Guild uniform, though its original Mining Guild insignia was now covered by patches of red cloth. He eyed them both intently before stepping off his craft.
“I see that none of you have drawn your weapons,” stated the humanoid, “I take that as a good sign. I have something for you as well. This datapad has the security camera footage and cargo manifest of the
Wayfarer before I assumed command of it.”
N835 snagged the datapad and handed it off to N987 before turning back to the rebel, “I will have my staff take a look at the pad immediately. If it does match your story, I ensure you that no harm will come to you, and that the Mining Guild will have some explaining to do...That is, of course, that we find no evidence of tampering.”
“You will find none,” replied Krag, surveying the station, “but even with our innocence, we still do need to pay you for the bacta. I had hoped that there would still be some ore aboard the station to show you what we could pay you with, but it would appear that some of the Guild escaped with it during our revolution. We would pay you back in ores matched to their fair going price for bacta on the open market, though it would take time. I wish for you to know that your bacta saved many lives of our people. It is unfortunate that we had to pay so many of our own to get a hold of it.”
Ryols frowned, “What do you mean? Was your revolution to cure the sickness?”
“In a manner of speaking,” replied the man, “my people, the Gamors, began to contract a wasting sickness several weeks after the Mine Worker's Union had begun their strikes and walkouts. The negotiations between my people and the Mining Guild had stalled. We were at an impasse. Then suddenly, it swept over many of the strikers as they picketed the Gaochor Mine, perhaps the jewel of the Mining Guild's holdings here. They stay a Mining Guild starship flew over them and sprayed a weird mist on them as it headed to the local star port. Then they began to waste away. None of our doctors had ever encountered the disease before, so we had no treatments for it. The Mining Guild offered to procure bacta to cure disease, if we would stop the strike and return to work with a few, minor demands of people met. But it was too little, and we knew who had given us the sickness, so we struck back, seized the bacta, and cured those of us who had been infected. And here we are now, with my people preparing for war against the Mining Guild as we speak.”
“Sir,” announced N987, “I have completed my review of the datapad's records, as well as that of the local newsnet, as have several crewmembers. Krag appears to be telling the truth.”
“Krag, I will be forward with you,” stated the Commodore, “I do have Reginald McIntyre onboard the other transport you see there. I will go now interview him to see his side of the story, and to see if there any...flaws in his story that do not add up. If I find that he is lying to me, he and the Mining Guild will have a lot of explaining to do. Justice will be served.”
“May I make a question of Krag, sir?” said Ryols.
“Certainly,” replied N835, “assuming Krag does not mind.”
“I do not.”
“If Krag here is right,” started Ryols, “then why did he and the other rebels attack us initially?”
Krag frowned, “It was intended to be a demonstration of strength. McIntyre had informed the crew that we were rendezvousing with Mining Guild allies who were going to “fix” his problems on Gamor. Myself and the other rebels took that to mean mercenaries. We did not expect to encounter the Confederation, though in hindsight, it would make more sense now. At the time, we did not know the source of the miracle medicine with which he promised to cure us in exchange for our loyalty. You have my most sincere apologies for attacking you. We did not mean to incite a war with the Confederation.”
“I accept them,” decided the Commodore, “I find it highly logical that the Mining Guild would and likely will hire mercenaries to attack your system, especially right now in their weakened state.”
Ryols held up a hand, “Sorry to interrupt sir, but if Krag and his people were wronged, and they're willing to pay us back for the bacta, shouldn't we try to help them? The galaxy needs governments that look after their people and try to do right, especially to other governments. Perhaps even membership in the Confederation?”
“Could such a thing be arranged?” questioned Krag, “It goes without saying that membership would likely prevent an attack on my people...”
“Lieutenant Ryols,” stated the droid, “I do not have the permission to induct Gamor into the Confederation, though the CMF captain in my squadron would, assuming his story checks out.”
“Then let us not waste time,” said Krag.
