“This will not do, Tras,” the Chevin said to his Chargrin assistant.
Setting down his data pad Grogantuu stared at his assistant, his snout’s lips
curling to bare his teeth.
“My apologies Master Grogantuu, but so far I have a very limited tools to
do the sort of searching you wish,” the Chargrin replied as his hands rolled
over one another. “I can only do so much with the databases here and
no Holonet access we can’t get into the commission reports of the Senate.”
“Details, details, details,” the Chevin replied. “Do you think I want
to be subordinate to my family forever? That was rhetorical. While
it would be nice to take over from them, the position is not exactly the
sort of power and access I wish.”
“You sell possibly the greatest amount of arms to the Trade Federation,
Hutts, and private security forces in the Galaxy. I’m more than happy
to be here for the ride, but the Senate isn’t the only one who handles first
contact.”
“What are you getting at my friend” Grogantuu sneered. “Don’t tell
me you want to try your feeble idea again.”
“I do,” Tras said as he stroked his bottom left horn in nervousness.
“You insist that since the Senate funds most research at the big universities
like Obroa, Cardia.” Tras was cut off by his Chevin master.
“Yes, yes, yes. We’ve been through this before. The xenosociologist
and xenobiologist are looking for the next big find. A new species and
the like. Since the Republic isn’t doing the work directly anymore,
these fools are.”
“And your fallacy, Master, is that you think by controlling the grant money
from the Senate you can control or hide the next great species find.”
Tras’ left hand began to nervously stroke the left bottom horn squeaking over
the wax that kept them smooth and shiny in appearance.
“Yes, control the money and the puppets will do anything you wish,” Grogantuu
said contemptuously.
“Yes. I say we go and find one that is more or less willing to take
on money from a private source, some one desperate for research money.
While it wouldn’t be sufficient for long term projects, the fool would be
willing to take you along with him so you yourself can evaluate the situation
to see if you wish to fund it further. Obviously, you continue to fund
if you don’t find what you are looking for right away for another three to
four trips. And if and when you do find anything you are looking for,
you can make a determination then as to what to do with such a patsy.”
“Yes, but how do we find such a patsy? That is where your theory falls
apart.”
“By examining the journal publications, university faculty coming and goings
and looking into their thesis work. The younger and less experienced
a researcher found, the more readily they should be willing to take on your
offer.”
“Tras, you make it sound as if a Skrilling were on a faculty someplace our
problems would be solved.”
“It could be just that simple. And I’ve been compiling searches with
various parameters, perhaps, Master, you have just given me a new one.”
“What are you talking about Tras?” his pachyderm snout twitching as
it came through his teeth. “I’ve been very lenient with you since I
ran across you in the customs checkpoint on Coruscant a few years ago.
If you weren’t such a promising slicer, I’d have you killed for picking my
mother’s purse off her.” Grogantuu pulled a small blaster out from someplace
under his desk and laid it right in front of him, pointing right at Tras.
“Master, as you’ve learned, I only liberated credits and credit chips to
give me more to build and upgrade datapads and devices I need. I am
not a glitbiting petty thief. I’ve so far sliced into your family’s
corporate accounts and given you a substantial raise without it coming from
your trust fund. I’m merely stating that in looking for the things you
want in whatever scheme you’re developing, I look for certain things based
on what you’ve told me. First contact specialist, funding, researcher,
exploration, hyperspace lane theoretics and the like are just some terms I’ve
used in database searches. So far we can find a theoretician, but there
really seems to be a lack of explorers and field researchers. The searches
so far are more historical in nature. Modern xeno studies seem to be
in inter-species areas of member Republic worlds and species.”
“And so by adding a Skrilling parameter to this search means what, Tras?
Before you answer, remember, your answer will greatly influence whether or
not I pull this trigger.”
“Well, given the species history, if there is any Skrilling professors out
there even closely related to any of these fields, we can make an approach
to this being. The oversight committees will be so happy to grant them
permission to do whatever he propose and be out their hair for a few months,
years, whatever it takes to find what you’re looking for, that it will be
granted.”
“Hmm, you are finally making sense, Tras. I see now why I haven’t
put a blaster bolt through that thing that holds up your horns yet.”
“Master Grogantuu is wise beyond all reasoning to see such genius.”
“Over valuing yourself a bit, Tras, I think.”
“Merely pointing out what the future compliment you have for me, Master.”
“Well, what does your search say?”
“This database is not known for its speed master, perhaps tomorrow, another
day. Is there anything else you need from me, Master?”
“Yes. If you can, special requisition for us a portable shelter, one
of those collapsible units that military units use, rations, some field kits,
med pacs, and some weaponry.”
“I’m assuming long term duration, so should how many months of rations?”
“Three to four months worth. I’m not sure what sort of ship this Skrilling
will have.”
“And the weapons?”
“Rifles, pistols, a few pounds of high grade explosives, and some smaller
explosives. The unknown galaxy is dangerous place. Get as much
as you can without drawing attention to yourself.”
“Master, when has any of my requisitions drawn attention to myself or you?”
“Tras, I’m sure you’ll do your normal efficient job, I’m merely reminding
you to keep up your work to your high standards.” Grogantuu picked up
his blaster and rose from behind his desk. “Do this quickly, Tras.
I will continue to construct what will be my own power and empire. Then,
we shall talk.” The door slid shut as the Chevin moved through the
office door and slid shut leaving Tras and his datapad to interface with the
computer consoles of the mighty Chevin weapons manufacturing plant.
Tras handed the datacard to his master. Sliding
it into his datapad and glancing through it slowly a smile started to form
at Grogantuu’s snout.
“Tras, this is very thorough. You found all this through the university
and journals?” Glancing up Grogantuu stared right at his four-horned
assistant.
“Yes, Master. It is just one being in the galaxy. I’ve compiled
all known written things about him, by him, and summarized them upfront.
I even read through this being’s thesis. He believes that within three
weeks of observation he can deem how contact shall be done. He also
went back and dug up pre-Great Hypserspace War methods on how to blindly plot
hyperspace jumps to find planetary systems.”
“He seems to be fairly well equipped and funded.”
“That is sort of a mixed opinion in my mind, Master.”
“I see he has a LOM droid acting as his aide, a few dozen Travel vouchers
to various Rim worlds on several different passenger liners, and a Duros kid
assigned to him as a pilot.”
“Yes, should he ever get a ship, Master. Excuse my interruption.”
Tras’ hands were folding one over the other as waves.
“So the Obroan Institute for Xeno Studies hasn’t given him a ship?”
“No. But I think you have some one who can help us with that.”
“You don’t mean Ephant Mon?”
“Well he is connected and he supposedly owes your brother for running him
into Cerrea. He should have the connections to get us a ship given his
alleged activities.”
“Well, I guess that shouldn’t be too hard. I will work on that.
This Professor Groat Silinento, his thesis is sort of,” Grogantuu was interrupted
by his subordinate.
“Out there, Master? Like it is a hyperspace jump past galactic rim
barrier?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“I don’t pretend to understand exactly what is there, but spending the last
few weeks reading through all this Xeno babble I can try and highlight a few
things.” Grogantuu nodded and reclined back further in his chair.
“Dr. Silinento believes that most species arise from a common ancestor.
That is why we see the basic form throughout the galaxy. He then subdivides
it further into things such as herd animals, hive colonies, predatory packs,
solitary predators, and species with no natural competition.”
“So he can readily identify with the methods he conducts his field research
a species that would say be suitable for mining or cleaning labor and the
like based on his initial frame work?”
“It probably would not be unlikely.”
“So if a species was hostile and predatory, he could possibly find a blindspot
in it that I could use to press them into service as bodyguards and more martial
uses?”
“I would not put it past him, but remember, Master, this is all speculative.
Prof. Silinento would be the one to answer these questions.”
“Yes, well Tras, would you like to hear my plans so you can beg me to be
a part of them?”
“Master, you honor me.”
“Tras, I have known you for three years and you are closer to me than my
own family. We Chevin want one thing, POWER. My family, happy
to share with each other and continue to grow old on the interest of the business
my grandfather stole from a Baragwin cartel millennia ago. I want to
expand. I want it all for myself. Since my family is so well
insulated beyond layers upon layers of Klatoonians, Nikito, Gamoreans, and
the like, I don’t see the point in trying to force my way in. And who
is going to notice the corruption and ruin of a Chevin? I am looking
for a new world, ripe with minerals and species capable of ready exploitation.
I want it all for myself. Mine it with my slave labor force and sell
it or sell the rights. Sell slaves. No matter what I will gain
wealth of great quantities. I’ll use my slave force to gather me power.
Now, I will need some one to help me administrate. Keep track of my
enemies and my resources. Some one who I can trust with a blaster behind
my back to shoot the mid-level lieutenants who gain too much power eliminating
all internal competition. Some one close to me who I can trust is what
I am asking. However, this person needs to be with me now and can’t
be afraid to dirty himself. Tras, if this is what you want, you have
to be willing to do anything and everything to ensure that my plan is carried
out.”
“Master, I am honored for such a consideration.”
“And you should be, my friend. You will be the model for all who join
me to follow. ‘Trust Grogantuu and be loyal to him and you shall be
rewarded.’”
“Serving you, Master, is it’s own reward. A few questions if I may,
Master.”
“Yes,” shifting in his chair Grogantuu’s snout moved up slightly into an
upside down cane.
“How do I fit in to your plan, then?”
“You will be my right hand. You will be that administrator if you
think you can handle it.”
“Will I be able to finally do the slicing I want to do? Republic Intelligence,
Trade Federation ecrypts, Senate Subcommittee reports, and the like?”
“Tras, if you can’t build or buy what you need to do it, you’ll have the
resources to buy the being or beings that can, if not beings in those organizations.
Tras, you simply live in a different world than I do. You know how some
things work and can see paths to my goals. I need you, Tras. I
want you to run it so it will serve me and my power. You in turn will
serve me because you need me. While a genius and capable, like you
said, you just want to slice in to see it if you can. I want to run
it all because I believe it is something deserved to me. The question
is, with a small taste of power, will you still be loyal to me?”
“Master, that will always be the case. You have saved me and I owe you that
debt. Your guilty pleasure is fabricating plasteel documents mine is
slicing. If Jedi proverb of knowledge leading to ultimate power is true,
then we’ll will have all their knowledge.” The Chevin grinned again,
baring his teeth. His young Chargrin protégé was learning.
Grogantuu made a mental note to now watch Tras Randsan closely once things
started to settle on their rise.
“And ultimate power. Tras, that is not all I seek. If we can’t
find a race to enslave, we’ll open up the rights for mining on these worlds
or charge billions of credits to sell new Hyperspace lane routes from our
explorations. If I can’t create my own power base, I will buy it.”
“Master Grogantuu, I will be there to congratulate you as Hutts, Hapans,
the Trade Federation, Jedi and the Republic bow to you. “
“Yes, yes they will. Tras, make the arrangements to contact this Skrilling
whiner. I wish to start as soon as possible.”
It was the appointed Galactic Standard Time. The LOM droid assigned
to Groat Silimento had just reminded the most junior professor at the Obroan
Institute of Xenological Studies. He had waited patiently to be accepted
by a university to just study anything. He had to endure the ridicule
as he talked his way into the Xenosociology field. Finally his doctoral
candidacy was treated with greatest scrutiny. Few universities were
willing to give a Skrilling a fellowship due to the nature of the field.
They were politically motivated to allow legitimate scholarly research but
block a scavenger species from finding more tools in their search for food.
He looked at the two micro-food freezers and smiled. He kept one on
and keeping cool food for any colleagues that would bother themselves to stop
by and his Duros student pilot/aide. The other was his. It was
never on, it kept fruits and meats at room temperature. Cooking via
nature was what his fellow Skrilling say. Groat just simply preferred
food the way he had it when he was growing up as a refugee, scavenging at
space port to space port his mother dragged him too. She followed the
path of the Outer Rim Warlords. The rich and powerful who had their
power-base just outside the reach of the Republic. Now, he would look
at those that these warlords prayed upon to warn them who would be the next
target or at least warn the Republic to see if he could motivate any of the
Core Worlds to act.
“LOM, where is Ellog?” Groat asked his droid that acted as secretary,
cleaning droid, and general help.
“Master Ellog Ropen is currently in his Hyperspace Mechanics course
in the Applied Engineering complex. He will return later this afternoon,”
the insectoid like voice replied.
“Very well. Establish the HoloNet connection to this Grogantuu.”
“Very well Prof. Silimento,” came back as a quarter sized Chevin in transparent
blue white appeared on Groat’s desk as Groat stepped onto the platform just
off to the side of his desk.
“Prof. Groat Silimento, it is a pleasure to finally contact you in person,”
Grogantuu said.
“Like wise, Mr. Grogantuu. I see that your associate, a Tras Randsan
contacted my department to do some preliminary fieldwork. May I inquire
why a weapons manufacturer would wish to sponsor field work in Outer Rim,
basically Wild Space?”
Grogantuu stiffened in his miniature frame. “I see that you do not
see the point of wasting time do you?”
“No, Mr. Grogantuu. While I do see the merit of a weapons manufacturer
wanting to see the post affect that his wares would cause on relatively newly
contacted species, but I don’t think that is the real reason you are contacting
me and my department. However, being strapped for funding, I feel inclined
to listen to what you have to offer.”
“Well, in plain terms, I would like you to come out on several junkets to
evaluate various effects, possiblely locate some new hyperspace lanes, if
the situation warrants first contact with species, mining exploration possibilities
and the like. I just need some one with credentials to sign the reports
before the family begins open up business where appropriate.”
A whistle emitted from his eight tubules on his “nose”, the Skrilling equivalent
of a sigh. “I’m still not convinced. I assume that you have a
full report and expectations available?”
“Not quite. My family has left me to develop new projects. This
would be a pilot. With your credentials and expertise, I would be willing
to bring you here to Carida to let you read the full corporate proposal.”
“How ever you justify this, I will remain a joke, Mr. Grogantuu,”
Groat interrupted. “You give me money, but you make me the whacky Skrilling
who’ll say anything to shift legal responsibility to the next marauding maniac.”
“Prof. Silimento, I will give you two pieces of advice. You are in
no position of power and will lose your appointment in a few short years if
you don’t generate something: papers, money, opportunities for study for fellow
faculty and students. Secondly, you should repress your species tendency
to push their agendas. Others in power may not be as patient as I am.
Now, I shall be booking coach travel for you and however many of your colleagues/students/droids
you need for you to come by and read my proposal and sign the contracts to
begin transfer of credits. How accommodations do you need, professor?”
Grogantuu stare was cold in its blue and white transparency looking right
at Groat. Groat’s face tightened. His fingers started for the
termination switch.
In Groat’s mind it all played out before him. Yes, the Grogantuu was
probably corrupt as they came, but there was honesty to Grogantuu’s evaluation
of his situation. Groat had no research money. In his first semester
there he had badgered the department chair to basically give him a droid deal
with all his petty needs. The chair found a LOM droid it used in a
psychological study of Verpines and gave it to Groat. He had no grant
money, refurbished the very HoloNet station he was using from an older model
in storage, and annoyed made such a fuss with the Student Employment Department
that they gave him one the most sought after students, a young Duros who
could pilot starships, just to be rid of him. There would be no reason
why he could sign off whatever it was that Grogantuu was actually looking
to do and publish the more legitimate aspects of it. Finally if it
were to come to more criminal aspects, Groat would have his own private notes,
the aspects of his observation and activities that he withheld from the scholarly
publications should he be pressed to give evidence against Grogantuu to whatever
authority was looking to be rid of this animal. Groat could live with
this. He knew this ahead of time, and withdrew his fingers and crossed
his arms.
“I thank you for your advice, Mr. Grogantuu. I will be bringing my
own pilot to conduct the actual expeditions if you provide the scouting transport.
I’ll leave my droid behind to coordinate my academic life here on Obroa.”
“What is the name of this pilot?”
“Ellog Ropen, a student pilot. I’ll see him this afternoon and ask
him if he wishes to come along. He’ll have to release any information
that you may need for travel. I can send the files along to Mr. Randsan,
then.”
“Any reason why he should not want to accompany you?”
“Not really. Legal schematics of the university. I need to get
Ellog’s permission before he can actually go on any university trip.
Plus I must inform him of the possible danger in exploring of this nature.”
“Do what you must, professor. I will expect a reply within a week,
accounting for university beuarcracy. If I don’t hear from you, I shall
look forward to paying the tax to pay for your unemployment, Professor.”
Grogantuu bared his teeth again. The link was terminated by at end.
Groat powered off his HoloNet station. He took the three small steps
to his desk and sank into it. The wheeze came out again.
“Oh Ellog, what have I just done?”
Tras got up from the seat behind the Holo-transmission
platform as his master turned to face him. “Shall I be making those
arrangements?”
“Yes, yes you shall. Tras, we have our willing dupes. Accompany
back to my office.”
“Prof. Silimento, this is truly remarkable. This man is going to pay
for a ship and expeditions?” Ellog Ropen’s red Duros’ eyes seemed to
grow even larger than the most predominant feature of his blue skinned head.
“Yes, Ellog, we’ve been over this several times already,” wheezed out Groat.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Copyright © 2002 Paul Joseph Barnard