"Negative. If he wants to talk, let's hear what he has to say before you try anything. Monitor the conversation, though, and keep your weapons manned. If you hear me say my name-the one I was using when we first met-open fire and try to knock him out before he returns fire."
"Got it," Puck nodded vigorously. "Oh, Tambu, one more thing you should know. The captain says his name is Blackjack. I think he's the same one you met back on Trepec."
"I see. Very well, patch him through." There was a few moments' pause. Then Puck's face faded and was replaced by the impatient countenance of Blackjack. Tambu watched in silence for several moments as the man fidgeted. "You wanted to speak with me?" he said at last. Blackjack started, then squinted at the screen as his hands went to the control dials.
"Excuse me," he apologized hastily. "There must be an equipment malfunction. I'm not receiving a picture. If I had known you were standing by-"
"It is not an equipment malfunction," Tambu interrupted. "For security reasons, my picture is never transmitted."
"Oh," Blackjack blinked. "Of course. A very sound policy."
Tambu smiled in wry amusement. As incredible as it seemed, Blackjack hadn't recognized his voice. The difference between the swaggering bully he had met on Trepe and the servile figure on the screen was ludicrous.
"You said you wanted to speak with me?" he asked levelly. "My time is limited."
Blackjack licked his lips nervously. "Well, sir, we've heard that you're forming a peacekeeping force and were accepting members who were... that is, regardless of their past records."
"That is correct. And in answer to your unasked question, some of our crews have been pirates in the past."
Blackjack smiled. "Good, because we'd like to join up. I mean, we'd like to become a part of your force, if that's possible."
Tambu raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was a turn of events he hadn't anticipated.
"I know this is irregular," Blackjack continued hastily, misinterpreting the silence. "But if you could just supply us with a few details as to what you're expecting-"
"Why?" Tambu interrupted.
Anger flashed momentarily in Blackjack's eyes, and his posture stiffened. Then he regained his smile.
"I know it's an annoyance, but it's been hard getting a line on your operations. We figured maybe if we went right to the source-"
"I meant why do you want to join. I was under the impression you had a lucrative business of your own going."
"You've heard of me?" Blackjack seemed both surprised and flattered.
"We have our sources," Tambu countered, smiling to himself. "It was my belief that you were a diehard loner. I fully expected that if our courses crossed, that you'd be taken dead or not at all. As such, I'm quite curious about your sudden change of heart."
"Well, the business has never been all that stable, and it's been getting rougher lately. You should know that You're one of the reasons things have been going bad."
"We have had some modest success."
"It was shaky enough when things were one-on-one and every ship for itself. But now that we're up against ships working together in teams or packs-well, let's say the odds are getting pretty high against us."
"Have you thought of quitting?" Tambu suggested.
"We talked it over, the crew and me, but none of us were wild about finding work planetside, and cargo hauling seems awfully dull after the life we've been living."
"Besides, it doesn't pay as well," Tambu observed dryly.
"Exactly. Well, anyway, we decided to go with the old saying...you know, 'if you can't lick 'em, join 'em. 'So here we are. What do you say?"
"It still sounds like a rather abrupt change of face to me. I'm surprised your crew isn't more averse to changing sides this way."
Blackjack shrugged. "Cops or robbers, the game's the same on both sides of the fence. The big difference is that playing it your way, we can mix with polite company."
"Well, we haven't exactly been swamped with invitations to society balls," Tambu countered. "And I'd like to think there are a few differences between the cops and the robbers. The main one that comes to mind is discipline. If you join the fleet, you play by my rules. You'll be allowed to run your ship your way, but the final decisions are mine. No solo jaunts or independent action."
"I know that. That's the price we pay for joining a group. Between you and me, though, in a lot of ways, it's a plus, not a minus. I don't mind at all passing the buck on some of the rougher decisions."
"Exactly what are you expecting to get out of this?"
"You don't buy the 'noble cause' bit, eh?" Blackjack grimaced.
"Let's say I have limited faith in it. I think the best business relationships exist when both sides benefit from the arrangement. If you join, I get another ship complete with a trained crew. Now what are you seeing that you'll get out of this?"
"Support. Both military and financial. Not only do we have allies we can call on if we get our ass in a sling, by sharing profits and losses, we stabilize our cash flow."
"Now that's the kind of selfish answer I can relate to. For the first time, Blackjack, I'm starting to believe you."
Blackjack sighed. "Now that that's settled, where do we go from here? Do we have to actually fight with your ship here, or can we just surrender and save wear and tear on everybody?"
"I think we can dispense with that in this case. Instead, why don't you have your ship tag along with the Dreamer for awhile. I'll instruct the captain to fill you in on our procedures and fleet policies. Then we can talk again."
"Fine by me." Blackjack smiled. "Anything else, boss?"
"Yes, start organizing the personnel records for your crew. I'll want to go over them with you next time we talk."
"Why?" Blackjack asked suspiciously. "I thought selection and assignment of the crew was my responsibility."
"It is," Tambu soothed. "I just like to be familiar with the individuals serving under me."
'All right. It might take awhile, though. I was never big on record keeping."
"I'm particularly curious about two of your crew," Tambu commented, unable to resist the jibe. "One of them is a short-haired blonde in her late twenties; the other is a boy in his mid-teens, Spanish-looking. I think you know who I mean."
Blackjack was visibly unsettled by the request.
"You weren't kidding when you said you had your sources, were you?" he said wonderingly.
"No, I wasn't. Tambu out."
He waited until Blackjack's face was gone, then leaned into his console once more.
"Are you still there, Puck?" he asked.
"Didn't miss a word," Puck replied, his features materializing on the screen.
"Good," Tambu nodded. "Try to get invited on board Blackjack's ship-and take a few extra people with you. I want a report from you on their armament and personnel to check against Blackjack's data. Can do?"
"Affirmative, boss."
"Keep me posted, then. Tambu out."
For a few minutes, Tambu leaned back in his chair smiling to himself. He considered calling Whitey, but rejected the thought. The board was clear, and his eyes hurt from staring at the screen for so many hours.
On an impulse, he rose and moved to the door of his cabin, activating the small intercom set into the wall. Hearing no conversation in the adjoining cabin, he depressed the button by the volume knob.
For long moments he waited, knowing that Ramona might not notice the small light glowing on her console even if she were in her cabin.
"Yes, boss?" Her voice came through the intercom at last.
"Can you come in here for a moment? Nothing important. I just want to talk to a live person for a while."
"Sure. Coming through."
He reached down and unlocked his side of the door, and a moment later heard the click as she unlocked her side.
"Care for some wine?" he offered as she entered the cabin. "I opened a half-bottle a couple hours back and haven't gotten around to drinking more than a glass."
"Only if you'll join me," she smiled. "It's silly, but my mother always told me a lady never drinks alone."