Theobald chuckled: “When one is used to be an Orbital captain for as long as I am, it becomes second nature,” he laughs merrily, “and it seems I am unable to shrug it off even in private.”
He turned business in an instant again, frowning and thinking: “Efficiency, well I like that. I will contact my former first officer, Matthew Davis. He commands the Isolaiva, one of Orbitals supply transports. She is a tanker with a huge cargo-hold, capable of transporting large chunks, ideal for a task like this. I am pretty sure he will help us with his ship.” His mind was working fast now, checking and calculating, weighing options: “I hope he agrees, that I will take command of her for some time.” “I’ll send out the offer for a convoy, maybe some of the other transport captains might come too,” he sighed, “hell, if we are lucky our security division Spa-SEC might even send one or two escorts, but honestly, I doubt it. They are mostly busy with escorting the Triton-Expedition ships to the edge. But one’ll never know if one never tries.”
He looked at Ian’s datapad, visibly surprised: “Wow, haven’t seen one of these for ages,” then he continued: “I’m going to make the arrangements with Orbital. At the best we have a couple of ONE-transports and fight-capable escorts from Spa-SEC, at the worst we have one extra transport, the Isolaiva. As soon as I know when Orbital is ready, I will let you know.”
He smiled and leaned back, visibly relaxed, sipping from his glass: “So it is settled. God, I am glad this gets finally done,” and he handed back the datapad: “I can't thank you enough, Ian, for all your help, again. If you or the Congress is ever in need, don't hesitate to ask.”
Ian grinned deviously, slipping his ancient datapad back into his coat. "Efficiency is key in operations such as this." he said, looking off toward nothing.
He then looked at his dwindling bottle of whiskey, frustrated that he felt no different than before he began drinking it.
All that remained was perhaps a single deep swig.
"Any help we can get would be much appreciated. I'm not sure how many of my brethren will be keen on helping a...forgive me..."
He looked guilty before continuing. "...corporate Captain. Though, I'll see if I can't persuade a few Congressmen with a work order.
That usually tends to work. Might even help once they know you're my friend."
He finished the last swig of his bottle, and set it down carefully, looking disappointed. "I swear they cut their bottles with water here." He said with an acidic tone.
"We should start organizing things as soon as possible. The more we wait, the further the debris can drift."
His face became serious for a fleeting moment before a wide grin spread across his lips. "You know, old pal. This could be fun. Junkers working with Orbital towards a common goal. It's almost unheard of.
Should turn a few heads, I'd think."
He trailed off, as his datapad had started beeping.
"Well, would you look at that..." He laughed. "Maybe I do have some leverage to get some of my brethren to help us."
He tapped out a message on his datapad, furrowing his brow as he did so.
He absent-mindedly spoke to Theobald. "You were saying that if the Congress needs something, we could just ask? I might have an idea.
I feel an alliance would benefit both of our organizations. Perhaps even a 'This for that.' arrangement on top of it. Stop me
if I'm getting too egregious."
Ian grinned at Theobald, and shouted to the bartender. "Hey barkeep, more drinks please!"
The bartender walked slowly over to their table with two bottles in hand. “Here,” he grumbled and put them down rather hard, “help yourself. I’ll put them on his tap,” and snorting he indicated with a nod of his head that he meant Franklin. With another rather unfriendly grunt he turned around strolling lazily back towards the bar. “Charming chap,” Theobald grinned, opening the bottle of whiskey and pouring Ian a generous amount into his glass. He lingered a bit, thinking and then filled his own glass with the amber liquid. “I might give this stuff a try,” he smiled, raising his glass and toasting towards Ian, “to Junkers and Orbitals joint ventures,” and he drained his glass. “Mmh, not bad,” he commented. Looking at his friend he continued: “As soon as I have slept off all this booze, I’ll inform HQ about the plans and set everything in motion. It should not take long for our ships to arrive. However, I can’t tell for sure when we get Orbitals approval or what date they will be able to offer, but it shouldn’t take too long.”
The Orbital captain surely showed signs of intoxication by now, grinning far more than their meeting began. After he has filled his own glass again with Vodka this time, took a generous sip and leaned forward: “and now I am interested in this idea of yours, which you have mentioned. Can’t blame me for getting curious, eh?”
