EVE Fiction

The trip had been blessedly uneventful. The Wine Song’s crew had already netted a tidy little profit from running trade goods along the caravan route but Norin had his sights set on one more prize. A call had passed along the caravans of an agricultural world called Targin Flat. The world had been recently recolonized by a brave group after the previous inhabitants went missing. Upon the colonist’s arrival, they found the infrastructure of the previous colony more or less intact with the neglected equipment and dwellings as their major concern. The colonists called upon the merchant captains for goods and materials but none had braved the trip.

Dark rumors had circulated among the merchant fleets that a deep incursion from Sansha captured the original colonists. Many of the trader captains were interested in tapping this new market, but were anxious of being the first. Often heard were ‘What if they return’ and ‘the place is an ill omen’. Most of the captains were content to wait and see who would be the first to chance it.

The Wine Song crew, to a man, felt that this would be an opportunity worth chancing.

Norin hailed the colony and landed the Wine Song on a broad strip of worked bed rock. He powered down the hauler and moved to disembark; pausing only to glance in a mirror to make sure his appearance was acceptable. Outside, a small contingent of people in simple work clothing waited until it was safe to approach. Norin stepped out of the ship with a bottle of wine, and was greeted by a deeply tanned grey haired man.

“Captain,” began the colonist, “I am Roget Behn. I’m the…” he struggled briefly, “Mayor? Governor?”

Norin beamed a friendly smile and chuckled at the man’s awkwardness. “May I call you Administrator?”

Behn looked pained as if the title fit clumsily. “Please Captain, call me Roget.”

Norin took the man’s hand in a firm handshake and said, “Only if you call me Norin.” This brought a smile from Roget and he shook the captain’s hand briskly.

“Roget,” Norin began, breathing deeply and looking around, “I have brought, for your approval, mechanical equipment, seed stock, some frozen supplies and construction materials.”

“Excellent, Captain Norin,” Roget began with a genuine smile, “I was beginning to worry that my calls for materials would go unanswered.” Roget paused, suddenly fearing he had said too much. Norin could tell that the desperation of the administrator’s tone may give the man a fear of being overcharged.

“We are but a small colony,” Roget began, looking awkward, “we don’t have a lot of money.”

Norin’s grin turned reassuring. “Be at ease, Administrator,” he said, using the man’s title, “I’m not here to raid you. My intent is to open trade with you and your colony.” The captain swept a hand around the cultivated fields and said, “I may, however, aggressively ask you for the privilege of bringing your excess harvest to market,” said Norin with a mock serious look that quickly washed into a friendly smile.

“In a show of good faith,” Norin continued, “I’ll gladly open my books to your accountant so that he can see what our purchases cost and, with the addition of a little something for my crew, what I will sell them to you for.”

The thought seemed to brighten Administrator Behn and he began to look comfortable as he told the captain about the regions, their crops and a bit of the history of Targin’s Flat. Norin signaled for a crewman to bring a couple of glasses and pulled a tool from his pocket. With the deft ease of a man performing a familiar task, he pulled the cork from the wine bottle. When the glasses were brought, he carefully poured the deep red wine into each glass.

“This is a very fine wine, captain.” Roget said. “I wonder if you’d care to sample some of our vintage.”

Norin’s eyes lit. “Why administrator, I would be deeply honored.” Roget had a bottle brought in and Norin sampled it with obvious pleasure. “Roget, I could find an easy market for this.” He said. “If you would be so kind as to exchange a few cases of yours, for an equal share of what I carry, I will test the waters and see what I can fetch for a price.” He turned back to the administrator, “Honestly, I could probably put your colony on the map with this alone.” He poured more of the administrator’s wine into his glass.

“That would make me very happy, captain.” Roget responded, reflecting the formality.

Both men settled back, enjoying their wine and looking over the pastoral vision of the worked fields. One of the Wine Song’s crew whispered to Norin. “It appears that our unloading is complete, Roget, and the coin has been exchanged.” He turned to the administrator with a more serious face and asked, “May I ask what that blight is over on that field?”

Roget blushed slightly, “It is a ship of some sort. I am unfamiliar with its make. The sad thing is, it’s taking up valuable field space and we have no way of removing it.” He cleared his throat, “Salvage metal does us little good with no foundries. Do you think this would be something you would like?”

Norin focused on the hulking mass of metal. “Salvage price is down and I can see where the farm land is far more important than storing rusting metal.” He pondered wistfully. “How much of this do you have?”

The administrator looked thoughtful. “There are 5 such wreckages. “ He cast a shrewd eye to the merchant captain, “Would you trade a load of materials for taking such wreckage?”

Norin cast a level gaze back to the administrator, working numbers in his head. After a few moments, “I will bring two loads of equipment and materials for the five wrecks you have. Maybe I could talk you into a few more cases of this wine?” He said, holding up his near empty glass.