Art of the Deal

Chapter 3

Merchant Ship Loki’s Delight, Asteroid Queen Aphalia
Murran Constellation
13 July 2250
         

         It was 0500 hours by Queen Aphalia clocks. Both the ship and the domed colony were quiet with most people still in deep slumber. Morgan and his team were not most people. The negotiating team was wide awake and exercising in the ship’s centrifuge, a large two hundred meter diameter wheel that created gravity similar to Earth’s. Standing five meters from Morgan was Julius, crouched down with both fists guarding his face. Both men were stripped down to the waist, their lean, muscular bodies glistening with sweat and blood.

         Suddenly Julius lunged at Morgan, his left fist flying through the air at Morgan’s face. Morgan dodged nimbly to the left and stuck at Julius’ side. The old NCO quickly blocked and replied with twin jabs from both hands. Morgan was hard pressed to block and was forced to take two steps backwards. Sensing opportunity Julius short forward, assaulting Morgan with another flurry of punches. Several of the punches scored hits against Morgan’s face and chest and Morgan grunted as he attempted to regain the upper hand. Blocking another punch from Julius, Morgan went on the attack, throwing several quick jabs and a heavy follow up at Julius’ face. Julius blocked all of the hits then went to punch, but it was exactly the opening Morgan was waiting for. Just as Julius’ fist shot out he knew he had made a mistake. Morgan dodged to Julius’ side and launched a flurry of jabs against the older man’s face. Julius went down under the onslaught, several of the strikes making contact with his temple.

         Both men were left heaving from the exertion. Their hand-to-hand combat routine was normally extremely intense, but the prolonged exposure to zero gravity had taken its toll on their muscles and bones. Doing anything in one gravity had become laborious.

         “We,” Morgan said between breaths. “We need to hit…the centrifuge…more often.”

         Julius just lay on the ground, his chest rising and falling quickly.

         “Yessir…we do,” he replied, gasping for air.

         Morgan walked over and helped his senior noncom off the ground.

         “Good fight, Top,” Morgan said. “Now, ready for ten kilometers?”

         Julius smiled and gave his commander a thumbs up. “You know it, sir!”

         As the two ran along the centrifuge’s track, Morgan caught site of his soldiers. Many of them were antsy and tired of being cooped up on the ship. Both Morgan and Julius would yell encouragement to them as they passed. They would get their chance. Running a little further Morgan spotted Udo Berger and Alicia Weber spotting eachother while lifting weights.

         “Hey you two!” Morgan bellowed as they passed. “You ready for today?”

         “Yessir!” Alicia replied with a smile. “Think we’ll close the deal?”

         Morgan shrugged. “I dunno. But there is always hope.” Morgan started to run on then turned back. “Hey, be ready no later than zero-seven. The Queen Aphalia delegation wants to get started early today.”

         Julius looked at his commander, a questioning look painted on his tanned features.

         “Do you think they know something we don’t, mein Herr?”

         Morgan shrugged and picked up the pace. “Ich weiss nicht. We will just have to wait and see.” He smiled to put his senior noncom at ease. “Don’t worry, Top. I have them right where I want them.”

         Morgan silently hoped he was right.

Another hour of exercising and Morgan went to his personal cabin to hit the shower. He thought about what would happen that morning as he closed the door and turned on the zero gravity unit. The hot mist covered his body and he began to relax. Of all the things that had come up in the talks the defense clause was still on the backburner. Although it was the most important part of the trade agreement, he continued to reserve it until the right moment. Would today be the day? And if so, would it trump whatever the Governor of Queen Aphalia had to offer?

         The day before the Murranian delegation had done a lot of stalling and refusing. Changes had to be made to certain parts of the agreement, and other parts were completely removed. It seemed the government in the Murranian capitol had finally taken notice of Queen Aphalia’s bleak position and funding had started to trickle in. It was a kink in the machine that Morgan was building, and Morgan did not like kinks. But he was flexible. So what if the contract no longer included building materials? Morgan had a slew of other items and concerns he could negotiate to make up for it. Although he was still very confident, he felt slightly uneasy about the whole ordeal.

         His shower finished he quickly dried off and slipped into his dress grays. He rapidly brushed his teeth and ran a hand through his short, high and tight brown hair. Checking himself in the mirror, he decided he was ready and glided out of his quarters. Upon reaching the hatch that mated the Loki’s Delight to the Queen Aphalia spaceport Morgan was greeted by the determined faces of his delegation. Even Olivia Mann looked extra sharp that morning.

         With a nod they departed, working their way through the tight corridors and the roomy bays of the spaceport. The Murranian engineers had worked wonders on this desolate asteroid, drilling the entire port deep into the rock and maneuvering a dozen metal facades into place for docking births. As he shot from one hallway to another Morgan noted that Queen Aphalia had all the facilities needed for extensive interstellar trade. He was suddenly surprised that he was the first merchant to take interest in this backwater colony. But he reminded himself it would only be a matter of time before others flocked to the opportunities that Queen Aphalia presented. Who knew, perhaps Queen Aphalia had a brighter future than what could be seen on the surface.

         Finally inside the domed colony the small group made straight for the train station, eager to start that day’s round of negotiations. All buckled in, Morgan and his subordinate began to review notes that had been taken the day before that what their main objectives for that day would be.

         “So,” Olivia began, running through a plethora of files on her PDA. “Yesterday we lost the construction clause. That included both services and materials. So Lanner and Associates and Warkaiser Architecture are out of a deal.”

         “I’d call that a minor setback,” Felix Lenz said. “We still have the agriculture, produce, and livestock clauses to count on, as well as several electronics contracts that include five major tech companies.”

         Morgan nodded. “Agreed. Today I’d like to focus on more consumer goods. We can’t very well trade with a colony that has a poor international economy. That will also mean transporting goods from Queen Aphalia to Hanseatic League provinces. Although a small annoyance, it will give the colonists the feeling that we are truly dedicated to open trade.”

         “Which we are,” Olivia chimed in.

         “Ofcoarse.” She was right, of coarse, but Morgan hated hearing it come from her. “I’m sure a few small Queen Aphalia companies will prosper greatly from that part of the deal, which will pour cash into their economy and create jobs, making Queen Aphalia more stable.”

         “I like the sound of trading with a stable colony,” Julius piped up. “Makes things easier.”

         It was 0830 by the time they arrived at the administration building. Their main points covered, the delegation left the maglev confident for the upcoming round of negotiations. The six merchants entered the Grecco-Roman structure and made their way down to the conference room. At first everything seemed normal. The Governor and his delegation were in their normal seats and all of them had those fake smiles plastered on their faces.

         It wasn’t until Morgan completely entered the room and the doors closed that he noticed another three individual sitting off to the side. They wore black dress uniforms decorated with silver medals and rank. Morgan narrowed his eyes at the sight of the three newcomers.

         “I was unaware that Blackline had entered the negotiations,” he said coldly. “Wasn’t the declaration of competing parties part of our agreement for these dealings?”

         The Governor returned Morgan’s spiteful look with a confident smile. He thought he had Morgan by the throat.

         “They arrived yesterday before our meeting and offered us quite a handsome deal,” Governor Kendrick replied. “Including goods from Earth.”

         Morgan sat there, floating in space, thinking. Although he was caught completely off guard he didn’t let it show.

         “So what?” Morgan asked with a shrug. “Earthen goods are numerous and cheep to come by. We’d be willing to include certain goods from Earth.”

         “But what makes your deal better than theirs?” one of the Governor’s assistants asked.

         “Blackline is an Earth based conglomerate, and so they are plagued by the more extreme liberal ideals that could send the population of this colony into revolt.” Morgan let that last statement sink in for a second. “How would you like it if the heads of you and your families were impaled on stakes just outside of this building?” Now it was time for the killing blow. “Would you want to be held responsible for another Hold incident?”

         “How…how did you...?” the Governor stuttered.

         “I have my ways,” Morgan replied sharply.

         According to local records, Hold had been a very prosperous colony closer to the Murranian capitol five years prior. A year after its founding the people had began to protest the authoritarian regime and riots broke out all over the colony. At first incidents were isolated and relative peace returned to Hold, but as the months went by the riots began to turn into full blown rebellions until the colony was completely lost to the revolutionaries and the entire Murranian administration on Hold had been publicly executed. Several rebel elements had even made their way to Murray, the capitol asteroid of the Murran Constellation, and caused havoc in a number of the city domes. One dome had even been breached and immediately depressurized, killing hundreds. The Murran Constellation government had worked very hard to keep knowledge of these incidents away from the attention of the interstellar community.

         One of the Blackline officers, from the pipings on his shoulders a Lieutenant, shot out of his seat to confront Morgan.

         “You have no proof of that, Hansa!” the man exclaimed.

         “Oh no?” Morgan replied. He looked back at Governor Kendrick. “Although very mercantile, they are also socialist in nature. In fact, one of their main holdings is in France. Do you want French imperialists in your colony, Governor?”

         Kendrick’s gaze moved back and forth between his assistants. They talked in hushed tones, every once in a while glancing up at both the Hansa and Blackline merchants. Morgan fought to remain calm in the presence of a sworn enemy. Normally Morgan and his people would have had no problem with another delegation competing for trade agreements. But Blackline was a completely different story. It was Blackline that had dragged the Hanseatic League into a blood drenched, decades long war that had cost all the members of Morgan’s delegation personally.

         While waiting for the Queen Aphalia administration to decide, Morgan’s mind drifted back five years before. He had been a brand new Leutnant at his first duty station and had been immediately sent into combat along with a veteran platoon sergeant, Oberfeldwebel Julius Reimer. The next five years saw the two fighting side by side on Mercury, Venus, Earth, Luna, and Mars. They had seen friends and family culled in the Blackline and Komatsu onslaught, and whole cities had been wiped out of existence. Morgan would never forgive them. If he hated anything in the whole solar system, it was the Blackline Conglomeration of Corporations.

         Morgan looked up and his eyes locked with those of the Blackline commander. Morgan almost expected lightning to flash between them. He wished something would remove this filth from his presence. Then it dawned on him.

         “Governor Kendrick and the delegation of Queen Aphalia,” Morgan addressed them. “While you are sitting here remunerating over what to do two factions fight over the rights to your colony. Your colony.”

         “Yes, Captain Fathom,” Kendrick replied. “We are in a very weak position. The higher ups in Murray refuse to send us a marine garrison. They cite recruiting problems and insurrections.”

         Morgan looked at Julius, a small grin forming.

         “I am authorized to offer military support for Queen Aphalia. For the interim this would consist of the Loki’s Delight and a company of Hansa marines. Once the Board of Merchants have blessed off on our agreement, an entire battalion of marines would secure your burgeoning colony and a flotilla of battleships would patrol your space. All of this at a decent price.”

         The Governor sat for a moment, still shocked by the offer.

         The Blackline commander, on the other hand, was furious.

         “You Hansa,” the man exclaimed. “Selling yourselves like whores. Don’t you have any pride? Or are all just a bunch of mercenaries?”

         “We are mercenaries when we need to be,” Morgan retorted. “What’s wrong with profiting from war?”

         The Blackline officer wrinkled his nose in disgust, but refrained from saying more. Morgan had won the battle and the war, both proverbially and literally.

         “Captain Fathom,” Governor Kendrick cut in. “I believe we have an accord.” He turned to the Blackline delegation. “You may leave, Lieutenant Lemont. You and your people are welcome to stay another two weeks while you refuel, then we will ask you to leave.”

         Lemont shivered with rage. But what was done was done, and there was nothing he could do about it. He gave Morgan and his people an icy glare, then propelled himself out of the conference room, his two subordinates close on his heels.

         “Sit down, Captain,” Governor Kendrick said at length. “We seem to have much to talk about.”


         Morgan flopped into the maglev car seat and slowly buckled himself in. It had been an eventful day and the combination of the Blackline presence and the five hour bout of defense negotiations had left him exhausted. Although tired, he was victorious. The Governor had signed off on the rest of the trade agreement and once Olivia had written the final draft, the two leaders would sign it side by side on Queen Aphalia television for all to see. The Governor’s assistants had already begun to brief the merchants on how things would be run and what shots they wanted for the media.

         Julius sat down on Morgan’s left, Felix on Morgan’s right, and the two patted their commander on the shoulders.

         “That was a stroke of genius, Morgan,” Felix exclaimed. “At first I thought we were in it deep, but it turned out you played your cards just right.”

         “You were great sir!” was all Udo could manage as he entered the cabin, but it was something.

         Alicia agreed, and patted her CO on the knee.

         “Well, sir, it seems you’re good for something.”

         The group laughed as the maglev began to take off.

         “Sadly,” Morgan said after a while. “We’re not out of the woods yet. We have some loose ends to tie up with Blackline.”


Christopher Meyer
Writer of Fortune