Black Hearts, Part Eighteen (PG)

[jeriendhal]

“You’re absolutely certain this is going to work?” Rufus asked, as the White Knight approached Jackson’s Whole. Miles had to admit seeing the planet grow larger by the moment in the cockpit’s canopy was an impressive sight. He just hoping the compact fighter was nowhere near as impressive to the Consortium picket ships that orbited the world right now.

“Not in the slightest,” Miles admitted. “The Jackson Whole Consortium’s concept of diplomatic immunity can be remarkably flexible at times. We can only hope that the credentials I offer hold.”

“And if they don’t?”

“We outrun whatever pursuit they offer, head outsystem, and come in on a Barrayaran fast courier.” And lose several days of time that we cannot afford to give up, Miles thought.

“Right,” Rufus said, sounding dubious. Then he touched the side of his flight helmet briefly, listening. “We’re being hailed.”

“Fell Station?”

“That’s on the opposite side of the planet at the moment. It appears to be Kyrin Station, the commercial facility you mentioned we should find.”

Miles nodded, “Just what I was hoping for. Patch it through to me.” He waited for the circuit to be switched over and then said with as much diplomatic force as he could muster, “This is Lord Miles Vorkosigan, Eighth Auditor to his Imperial Majesty Gregor Vorbarra, Emperor of the Barrayaran Empire, on a diplomatic mission. We request docking instructions immediately and a channel to the Barrayaran Consulate.”

The voice at the other end didn’t sound impressed. Stand by for docking instructions, Lord Vorkosigan. Be prepared for your customs inspection as soon as you dock, it said in a bored tone.

They haven’t yet attempted to confirm which wormhole we arrived from. Good, Miles thought. There was simply no way to avoid the fuss that was going to occur when the station’s administrators checked that, and discovered the fighter had come out of seemingly nowhere, but he was hoping to avoid it until after they had docked. “Negative on the customs inspection, Kyrin Station,” he said firmly. “This ship is to be considered a diplomatic vessel.”

That will be an additional surcharge, the station reported, and told Miles the sum. He winced, and hoped Gregor would forgive the hit the Emperor’s privy purse was about to take. “Understood, just add it to our bill,” he said, “Lord Auditor Vorkosigan out.”

“Now what?” Rufus asked.

“Now we dock, and then get our asses into the Consulate as soon as we can,” Miles told him. Then he sat tight, gripping his seat as the Vulpine accelerated his nimble fighter, approaching the station at literally breathtaking speed before flipping over to decelerate and slip neatly through the docking bay entry, the White Knight’s scimitar wings folding around it like a shy flower. As soon as the fighter touched down and the outer door was sealed, Miles popped open the aft canopy and hopped out. “Stay there and keep your helmet on, until the Consulate rep can meet with us,” he requested.

“Fine, but where are you going?” the Vulpine asked.

Mile grimaced, pulling off his own helmet as he waddled towards the nearest hatch. “To find a damned bathroom!”

By the time he got back, the station’s Barrayaran Consulate representative, Lord Vormelcher, was already standing by Rufus’ fighter, wearing a combination of exasperation, confusion, and outright worry, no doubt trying to figure out just why an Imperial Auditor had arrived so suddenly and mysteriously to disrupt his routine. “Lord Auditor, welcome to Kyrin Station,” he greeted, holding out his hand. “May I escort you and your pilot to the Consulate?”

“Thank you, Lord Vormelcher,” Miles said, taking the older man’s hand. Vormelcher had the look of a man perpetually in a hurry, unsurprising given the usual Consortium disregard for diplomatic niceties. He watched as the representative’s eyes widened when Rufus climbed down from his fighter’s cockpit, taking in the Vulpine’s digigrade legs and polarized helmet.

“Milord Auditor, who is this?” he asked, gaping.

“Consider him a diplomatic representative, as important as you or myself. Further explanations will have to wait until we are on Barrayaran soil,” Miles said. He turned to Rufus, “Kyrin Station normally guarantees the integrity of the ships docked here, but the White Knight may be a special case, all things considered. Do you think it will be safe?”

Rufus’ helmet bobbed. “Yes, Miles. I’ve got a monitor linked directly to her in my personal com link. Anyone starts fiddling with her cockpit or hull and she’ll send out an alarm to me.”

“Good. Consul, let’s get back to your offices, where I hope things will be made more clear.”

All three of them walked at a rapid pace back towards the Consulate, and Miles could feel the stares of the passersby in the corridors they transited. A man walking through a pressurized corridor in a spacesuit wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, and Rufus got more than a few doubletakes when they looked down and saw his peculiar leg structure. That was the one very large flaw in Miles’ plans so far. Like it or not, the element of surprise was not going to be on their side, whatever they did now. Mavra Chan would have to be either blind or a complete fool to miss the fact that we’ve come to Jackson’s Whole, he thought. She’s got to know we’re going to try something. But what other choices did we have?

TBC

Comments

[stoutfellow.livejournal.com]

Lord Vormelcher

Tuckerizing, are we?

[jeriendhal.livejournal.com]

Hey, at least its not as bad as good ol' Sgt. Pouncer. :)

[countrycousin.livejournal.com]

re: not best scene - I'll bow to expert opinion, but I liked it.

Re: not knowing what's happening next: gleep!!??? Who's driving this bus???

Ooooohhh Uuuupdaaatee

[mjkj.livejournal.com]

Woah, great installment *happy for update*


mjkj


PS: Does this appear also in the Terinu forum? or is this LJ only?

Re: Ooooohhh Uuuupdaaatee

[jeriendhal.livejournal.com]

Oops, haven't posted the link yet.

[kikibug13.livejournal.com]

Awww... Miles is IN!

*sits tight, grips chair handles, and prepares for more*

It's good! :) It might not be action-packed as other installments, but I've found that doing the connection pieces is very important for the story.

Me likes.

Sorry... but I couldn't resist pointing out that one S is missing from Mile grimaced, pulling off his own helmet as he waddled towards the nearest hatch. “To find a damned bathroom!”

[josanpq.livejournal.com]

Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!

Things are really getting tense. :-)