Winner said:
[X] A daring solution
You have the inkling of an angle you can play. Perhaps this is what Rousseau meant when she said you have a unique chance, but do you dare to throw in your own bid? An outpost managed by you with support of both parties, with all the wrangling of two behemoths that comes with it.
From your office built high into the dome, you gaze upon the arriving party. Admiral Patrick Cavendish marches in through the entrance first, taking Hailey's offered handshake and exchanging a few words you can't hear.
He's dressed in a parade uniform, putting your diplomat's professional business suit to shame with its pomp. Rows of meaningless medals glisten on his chest, visible even to you. He's joined by another man in less impressive, but still formal clothes, a secretary of sorts, you guess, as any second-in-command would be left with his fleet.
As the group starts following after Hailey, the final element of the entourage rolls out from the entrance. Four massive suits tower over the unarmored people, each at least a head taller. The armor is black and bulky, the blue and gold starred flag the only visible patch of color on the chest plates. Unlike either your own middling suits or the sleek white ones that came with the VIP, these are lumbering behemoths. There're gas tanks for zero-g maneuvering, servos large enough to double as hammers and the boots clank on the walkways as automatic magnets control their movements. Some distant part of you notes that the suits aren't built for walking about in gravity, but judging by the reinforced exoskeleton, they could probably withstand the deepest oceans on Earth anyways.
The party makes their way to the side you set up as their staging ground, and once they disappear from view, you head down to meet them. A single soldier stands guard by the door, and no doubt has already reported your approach, but you don't need to talk to him, pinging Hailey instead, letting her know of your arrival. Right before you'd have to stop and wait, the door slides open and you step inside without breaking stride.
"Admiral Cavendish, allow me to introduce the leader of Little Klondike, William O'Rielly," Hailey stands to the side, a polite smile on her face.
The admiral stands by the window outside, a glass of some dark liquid held in his hand. Without turning to you, he speaks.
"It'd be a pleasure any other time, I'm sure. But I'm not a man for pleasantries. Tell me why did you offer to bring us here. What's your angle?"
"A combination of factors," you follow his lead, remaining curt, "from advice to honest belief that I can prevent a disaster. I've never really seen eye to eye with Brussels, but this time there's more we have in common than I would have expected."
"Currying favor then? How base," the man turns to face you, his beady grey eyes glaring at you.
"On the contrary, I think I have a solution unique to me that I can offer."
You leave your statement hanging, letting him mull it over and warm up to you. Eventually he obliges and asks, "Out with it then."
"I've received a briefing from the EU joint command, but it came with dire threats. I presume at least you know why you're out here."
"I do. Some science babble, and to make sure we don't give ground," he nods.
"Control of the anomaly is the root of the issue, yes. But really, isn't it more about making sure the Americans don't take sole control of it?"
"They won't."
"At a massive cost, both real – in time and fuel or worse, in lives – and in missed opportunities. Not to mention that the third side of the Earth Triad remains uncontested in the old belt and beyond."
He grunts, but lets you continue.
"I've studied some of your work," a little flattery won't hurt, "Space isn't suited to long-term conflicts, a small team here to oversee a tiny but crucial mission would be much more advantageous."
His eyes remain staring at you, but a light has entered his gaze. Whatever else, he's quick enough on the uptake, so you bull on.
(Roll, convincing Cavendish, required 75-15=60: 63)
"I have little interest in military technology that would realistically threaten Earth. I've already handily beaten back what I would be expected to deal with. I'm also a known entity in
your sphere of influence, no one would look at us running the mission as the EU giving up on her borders. Add to that the fact that if you wanted, you could glass this asteroid. Me being in charge of the outpost leaves you all the leverage while I shoulder the risks."
"Nice words, but I've seen projects fail due to incompetent leaders before. What makes you qualified to lead?" he protests, but you can tell it rings hollow and weak, you've gotten him to at least consider things.
"Exhibit A," you gesture around you, and for a second you could swear that the admiral's stoic lips twitch upwards. "And if that's not enough, we have direct experience in managing a research station. The Martian Prismdust outpost about two weeks forwards from us remains in operation and even profitable, both in financial as well as scientific terms. I believe they came through for you on a ship development project, and I don't need to add any emphasis on how time-sensitive such matters can be."
"Suppose I agree to have you be the sock puppet of this base – don't make me laugh, there's going to be at least a platoon and a frigate on site," he cuts down your protest, "How do you intend to convince the Americans to go along with this?"
"Leave that to me."
-.-
The second ship arrives much like the first, the only difference between the delegations being that the accompanying officer is female and the power armor is a dull grey. Just as before, Hailey leads them to the other side of the dome and you make your entrance as they've settled in.
(Roll, convincing Burke, required 75-15 = 60: 30)
This time, the admiral in the room is seated at a table, glaring at you from the offset, and takes the initiative as soon Hailey finishes her introduction.
"O'Rielly, let me make this clear: I consider this a waste of time, but wasting time is good for me. That's the sole reason I'm here and the longer you play at peacemaker the longer the Europeans' wallets have to bleed dry. Make your pitch, but don't expect me to fawn over you."
You purse your lips in frustration for a moment, but forge ahead regardless, "Admiral Burke. I believe I can offer a solution that fulfills the pentagon's orders to you while simultaneously freeing up your own time and resources."
The man regards you passively, not a single muscle twitching, and you continue, "If Little Klondike were in charge of the eventual station, then your forces could still maintain access to the site. These are not just empty words: we've stood up the Europeans before, with no backing. If you were involved in the supply of such a station then you'd also maintain a constant presence there, and as pretty much anything going there would be traded through us as vital supplies, you'd be neatly bypassing the embargo still active. The ownership…"
"No."
"Excuse me?" you blink at the interruption.
"I see you've been forwarded the official strategic objectives of my mission and you think you'll use those against me. Let me enlighten you: I am a patriot, and I follow the spirit of those orders."
He stands up and stalks up to you, although the intimidation factor is lessened by the fact that you're half a head taller than him.
"A contested site can not be constructed while the sector remains in EU control. Any supply shipment will be passing through here unless we are the sole owners. That means that the opportunity for data to slip through is far too great. It also means that European privateers have several safe harbors to fall back to after sabotaging the freight trains. You coat your offer with honey, but beneath it is still a beehive."
He's standing in your personal space, just short of touching you, and although you do an admirable job of maintaining decorum, your tone slips.
"So, you'd prefer to spend the same supplies each month on your fleet rather than take a tiny risk once a year?"
"I do as the President asks, and he's told me not to blink."
Both of you stare at each other for a moment before sharply turning away.
"The summit is starting in thirty minutes, admiral. I hope peace will prevail," you force out before turning on your heel and marching out, Hailey half a step behind you.
-.-
"Well boss, he wasn't lying about what he was saying," Hailey informs you when you sink into the chair set up for you in the central meeting room. Neither of the soldiers is here yet, and you have a few minutes to compose yourself.
"Will, you've got a plan B, right?"
For a moment you remain silent, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes.
"I suck at giving up you know."
"Oh?"
Opening your eyes, you shoot her a reassuring grin, "There's still another angle I can push. Although I wish I had more time to work it over with Cavendish. He, at least, seemed reasonable. And I'll have to hype up New Ireland."
"You're not going to tell me what the plan is, are you?"
"Patience is a virtue." She pouts at you, but you remain silent and wait.
Right on time, the doors open and the admirals march inside, followed by their aides and a pair of soldiers each. Carpenter's men remain at the entrance, unsure until you give a subtle shake of your head and they settle to stand by outside.
"Admirals, I believe introductions are unnecessary."
The two seize each other up, near perfect mirror images of the other.
"Patrick."
"John."
They take the seats set around a circular table as you remain standing.
"I've spoken with each of you, and as you can tell by the lack of smile on my face, there's still work to be done. However," you clap your hands, keeping the attention on yourself, "There remains a matter that I believe we should clear up together before we declare this summit a failure."
You round on Burke, "Admiral, have you studied the Union's stance on this sector in particular in depth?"
"Nothing strange has been brought to my attention."
"Would it be fair to say," you turn to the other man, "admiral Cavendish, that before the discovery of the anomaly, Europe held a decidedly hands-off approach here?"
The man takes a moment to consider you before nodding and you continue.
"In fact, there's only a single station here that's actually sponsored by the European Union: Azure Star. Of the other stations, Deckard and Prismdust are suborned to local entities, Ironbond is backed by an international corporation," you raise your hand to quell protests, "which is nominally based in the Union, but that doesn't mean much. The COD, who kicked this whole mess off, exist, near as anyone can tell, on donations, many of which come from the States, but again, that doesn't mean much either. Both are private institutions. The biggest players are New Ireland and me, Little Klondike. My own origin has never been a secret, and I'd like to think that I've shown myself to be a fair businessman with purely rational alliances – although that's probably too strong a word for the few business dealings I have active at the moment. That just leaves New Ireland."
You take a quick breath to keep up your momentum, at least you have their attention.
"As I understand, part of the reason for our current venue was that New Ireland already hosted an EU embassy. I can assure you that it doesn't mean that the station belongs to them. I've met the Chois myself. They're entrepreneurs like myself. Before I threw a wrench in their plans, they wanted to become a central hub for the local space. I say space, because they were aiming for it before the sectors were a thing. Someone on Earth decided that this was to be a Union area, and they just went with the flow. I'm sure they'd be overjoyed to also accept an American embassy."
Cavendish clears his throat before you can continue.
"Your point, Mr. O'Rielly?"
"Admiral Burke told me that the local sector is a hub of EU activity and ports. I would like to illustrate how this is not the case."
The American remains impassive, but after a moment asks, "How many other stations are there?"
"None," you shoot him a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, "When I was picking out an asteroid to claim, I knew I was being audacious to say the least. This place is away from the biggest stations and the density of celestial bodies is quite low. Why that is, I leave to the scientists, but it means that until now, we've been left alone for the most part. The EU has minimal investment here, and in the name of international peace, I'm sure Admiral Cavendish would be willing to consider putting in a good word with the people back in Brussels for an American embassy on New Ireland. I assure you; the station is big enough for both of you."
You glance at the European, but thankfully he doesn't seem insulted by you speaking for him.
"The crux of the matter, Admirals," you continue, "is that something out there would provide you with incredible leaps forward. And that there's a
party that's not present here, for now. No one wants to kick off world war three, but no one can trust each other. Both of your governments told me that the other is blocking a joint effort for fear of sharing military secrets. I'm as neutral of a middleman as you can ever find, and I'd be insane to withhold data from either of you."
(Roll, tiebreaker, required 75-15+(30-3)/2 = 74: 79)
You can see that Cavendish is convinced – or at least indifferent enough to follow through – but Burke still seems be teetering.
'Cursed stubbornness, hasn't ever changed his mind indeed.'
"Admiral, you told me you're a patriot."
"I am."
"Surely you can then believe in your own scientist to pull ahead when presented with the same data."
A silence descends as everybody seems focused on the grimacing face of John Burke.
"I want that embassy."
"The Chois will take you, and if they won't," you swallow, "I will, to prevent war."
"And I want results."
"I recommend you look up a recent paper on practical nanite applications by a Lena Weissmeier. Our R&D department is top notch."
This time, its Cavendish that speaks up.
"In that at least, I agree with my colleague. We'll expect results, or giving you control is no better than the current situation."
When you nod, the man rises.
"Good. Now, I've been here for seven long hours, and I've received reports of minor anomalous readings from my vice-admiral. The situation remains volatile, and I'm not sure what could be worse than if things were to go to hell with me here, and what happened to the first ship happening to the fleet."
The other admiral grunts in agreement, "The details will be hashed out by other people. We'll be in touch. Lieutenant Angelo," the woman in question pockets the tablet she used for taking notes and snaps a salute.
"Sir?"
"Congratulations on your promotion, lieutenant commander. I'm placing you in charge of the eventual military attaché to the base. Start assembling a platoon when we get back on the ship."
The woman tenses imperceptibly, but training kicks in a moment later, and she turns to follow after Burke with a "Yes, sir."
When the Americans leave Cavendish turns to his own aide.
"Well, lieutenant commander Feuer, you don't need a promotion for the task, but you'd be my first pick for our side of the equation."
"Understood, sir," the man replies, eyeing you curiously as the other party also exits, leaving just you and Hailey.
"You sure know how to write cheques with your mouth, boss."
"Thank you, I try."
-.-
I'm cutting it up here as a natural end of scene. No vote, which feels weird, and there's still the rest of the turn, but it seems to me to flow better this way.
