As we are flying for Verdant, we powwow.
“Gunther, we can try to get you and Johann back to the fleet on the ship that brings the Platoon Field Center. Failing that I don’t know when your next opportunity will come. We’ll be trying to open up off-world commerce.…”
“You’re determined to stay, Commander?”
“I am,” I say. “Which brings us all to an exciting challenge.
“The problem is, how do we all get what we want?
“If a rescue comes and succeeds, those of us going native are going to look like ungrateful cads if we say we don’t want to leave.
“If a rescue doesn’t come, you and Johann are marooned. But if my plan to open space commerce on this world succeeds, we should be able to get you off some months from now as civilians.”
Gunther looks a bit sour hearing that. “That means months of cooling our heels and we’ll be suspect for a while after we return.”
“Adding spice to this delicate mix,” I admit, “is that if we five become a rallying symbol for a merc protest on the fleet, the flood of events at the fleet may sweep away any of our intentions. Frankly, if twenty mercs come bouncing down here saying they’ve come to rescue us and they’re backed by a substantial fleet in orbit … I’ll say, ‘Sure! I’m coming!’” I sigh.
Chin gives me a dagger look and moves away a bit. I look at her.
“Chin, if that happens, then it would be a very bad time to say we want out.”
She thinks and sighs. “I guess you’re right … if that happens.”
“If that happens, we are all ‘Oh, so grateful’ and this discussion never happened. Is that understood by all?” I speak sternly and look around, waiting for nods from everyone. “If that happens, our future careers will depend on our being seen as grateful when rescuers crash through doors—I assure you of that!”
“So … part of our challenge but not yours, Gunther, is to discourage any rescue attempts.
“One way to do that is to get Gunther and Johann off world quickly so there are only three of us left behind. Which brings us back to the resupply ship.
“The problem with getting you on that ship is our lack of control of the situation. I think we can find the resources within Artemisia to send you two up, Gunther, but the situation is so uncertain upstairs that you could easily end up vaporized—those capital ships left because they got their butts kicked, not because they were bored. You know as well as I that the Platoon Field Center module will be making the last leg unmanned, so your craft will have to travel a long way to reach the blockade runner that launches that module.”
I look him straight in the eye. “How much risk are you willing to take to get off this world?”
He looks straight back at me and says, “Commander, you may not be sensitive to it, but there is enormous risk in staying on this world. These are natives; we are not and never will be.
“If you’re going to be setting up space commerce then you’re going to be a high-profile player on this world. ‘Kull’ will not go away and every native xenophobe crank assassin will see you as Target Alpha. Are you ready to watch your back 24/7?
“You’re taking sides in a civil war! You could be picking a losing side; you’re for sure picking a collection of associates that includes betrayers. This isn’t like the mercs; your enemies will be close. Are you sure you want to deal with this kind of world?” He continues to look me straight in the eye. Gunther has a lot on the ball; he should go far, very far.…
I count to ten. “You haven’t answered my question,” I reply.
He sighs and looks down. He’s heard me declare my intentions formally, so he could finally address them with me and bring up his concerns. And he’s tried his best to convince me to stay in the fold. For his own honor, he had to do that. Now he can worry about himself.
He looks up again. “I’ll take a twenty percent risk of death,” he says.
“So be it. As soon as we get in secure communication range we find out where we stand off world and we see if we can arrange a rendezvous.”