Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 02_ Shield of Lies - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [102]
And Belezaboth Ourn did not like being kept waiting.
His ship’s engineer had examined the sealed box with all the means at his disposal, but after a discharge from the box had destroyed his test instruments, the engineer had returned it with a shrug. All Ourn really knew is that with the blind box attached, the hypercomm conversed with it, and the box conversed with a Yevethan hypercomm at an unknown location.
Muttering an imprecation against Nil Spaar’s fertility, Ourn called for a toko bird and a slaughter knife to be brought to him. He had been stuck on Coruscant for weeks now, unable to leave, waiting on the viceroy to keep his promises. He was not about to let himself be stuck in his room, unable to eat, waiting on the viceroy to answer his calls.
Mother’s Valkyrie was still sitting on the landing pad where it had been battered by the departing Yevethan thrustship Aramadia. With the mission short of funds, Ourn had refused to authorize repairs, expecting to sell the cutter as scrap when the ship Nil Spaar had promised him was delivered. Then spaceport ground crews had covered Valkyrie with a bubble-like lien seal when the unpaid berth fees mounted.
It was embarrassing to have the Paqwepori consular ship sitting there under a debtor’s lock for everyone to see. It would be humiliating to have to stand in line to leave Coruscant on a shuttle. And it was unthinkable for the delegation to return home penniless aboard one of the rattletrap commercial liners that came calling at Paqwepori.
There was only one acceptable resolution, and Ourn clung to it unwaveringly. Nil Spaar must keep his promise of a Yevethan thrustship in payment for the damage to the Valkyrie and other services Ourn had rendered to Nil Spaar. Then the delegation could leave Coruscant not only in grand style, but in such a way that everyone would know that the Paqwepori had powerful friends.
The only troubling matter was that Nil Spaar was so often unavailable when Belezaboth Ourn tried to reach him. The last two times he had called with information, Ourn had been relegated to speaking to underlings. And his three attempts since deciding to withhold what he knew and insist on speaking directly with Nil Spaar had gone completely unanswered.
For this, the fourth, Ourn had baited the hook, leaving a message that he had information about important developments near Koornacht. But, still, he had been waiting five hours.
The toko bird and a response from the Yevetha arrived at the same time, and Ourn rudely chased the former away so that he could receive the latter. To his delight, the face that appeared was Nil Spaar’s.
“Belezaboth Ourn,” Nil Spaar said. “What is that sound?”
The toko bird’s squawking over being rejected was still audible from the outer room. “Viceroy! An honor and delight to have a chance to speak to you again. Disregard the noise—it is a wild animal outside, nothing more. What news do you have for me? Is there any further word on delivery of my ship?”
Ourn thought he saw regret in the Yevethan’s expressive eyes. “Consul, this has become a matter of great awkwardness,” Nil Spaar said. “My people and yours are nearly at war—”
“No, not our people!” Ourn said, dismayed. “Why, there is not a single Paqwepori citizen in the New Republic’s armed forces—not one! The societor has forbidden it.”
“And I hope that will be an example to other rulers,” Nil Spaar said. “But there is a great fleet poised to invade our territory, and they do not seem to have been left wanting by your absence.”
“Oh, that fleet is nothing but bluster,” Ourn said dismissively. “The Princess hasn’t the will to use it, or the support to do so.”
“I find her a strong and canny dictator,” Nil Spaar said. “I cannot believe that she would make empty threats.”
“If you could hear the speakers