Dank was thrilled, but the dedicated communications staff began furiously decoding the messages to find some clue as to their current political standing.
"Sir," one of the Specialists monitoring communications announced, "We have found an open two-way command channel from Earth Prime."
Junior mentally went over his prepared speech in his mind, but as he ordered the command channel routed through the bridge open communication channel, he realized he would never get to recite it.
"High Fleet Colonel (slight pause) Junior, welcome to Earth Prime. Please, at your convenience, join High Command at the space station S382956 in geostationary orbit over
Junior acknowledged the transmission and ordered his ships to make way for the traditional rendezvous point and took the lift down to the shuttle bay.
On the way, he stopped at the forward lounge to find both Dank and Trixie May entranced by the swiftly growing blue orb out the view port, Trixie May by the real view and Dank by the increasing flow of information through his data terminal.
"It's beautiful, Junior," Trixie May could hardly tear her eyes off the planet to toss a smile at him.
"Very much," Junior agreed, his own eyes not focusing past the observer.
"They still play baseball," Dank said, by way of greeting, scores and statistics flowing past him on the screen, "the league is government controlled, but attendance is way up from the historical records we had back home."
"I thought they banned all sports that didn't involve robotic combat?" Junior asked.
"Not banned, just controlled," Dank explained, "The players are all government employees on fixed salaries."
"Y'all should know," Junior announced, "I gotta leave the ship for a bit, fill out some forms or somethin' on that space station yonder." He pointed.
"I'll go with you," Dank said, standing.
"Not this time, Dank," Junior shook his head, "I need y'all here in case anythin' happens. I'm leavin' McComb in charge, but I want y'all to help him if'n he needs it."
"What if you need help," Trixie May asked.
"I reckon this is a trap, Trixie May," Junior admitted, "but we ain't got no choice but to walk into it and see what happens. I can't have y'all trapped with me if I can help it."
She took his hand, "You jus' signal if there's trouble, Junior."
"I will," Junior promised.
"And don't you be goin' down to the surface without us, you hear?" she added, giving his hand a tight squeeze.
The shuttle, piloted by someone McComb recommended, glided to a graceful stop on the floor of the landing bay in the space station. Junior keyed the hatch open and stepped out into the crisp, clean air the recyclers churned out. The space station, unlike the long ranged crafts, had access to real atmosphere in regular shipments so the air lacked the metallic smell of that in the G5496.
Junior unconsciously took a deep breath before descending the ramp and looking at the officials sent to greet him.
"Welcome aboard, High Fleet Colonel," a large, heavy man in flowing metallic aquamarine robes greeted, "We are relived your journey was successful."
Junior smiled his friendliest smile and replied, "Me, too. I brought a mess o' that Be-Esunium stuff on the shuttle with me, but there is a bunch more on the ships."
"That's fine, fine," the man replied, "I don't have anything to do with that. I just need to process your citizenship papers. Do you have a few moments right now?"
Junior replied that he did, and followed the man, flanked by two guards, into the heart of the station. He left the pilot on the shuttle, with orders to leave the launch sequence running. While he hoped to not need a speedy get away, he was not about to start taking unnecessary risks.
Chapter Thirty Seven Interlude
File: Datanet Core Server Gamma Delta Thirty-Seven, Galactic Society, Era: Modern -0, Index Property Management, Benevolent States United, Wealth and Bounty, Information which is known by all the Faithful but which should still be documented
Since property, after religion, was the primary source of war in ancient times, all property management is at the sole discretion of the Benevolent States United. As such, property ownership is decided in all cases by right of inheritance, armed or unarmed single combat or by decree of the Benevolent States United (long may They reign).
Deeds and titles are kept in secure archives, with property transfer occurring at Benevolent States United processing locations. Unclaimed property is kept in the care of the Benevolent States United until such time as the rightful ownership is determined or the proper chain of inheritance established.
Junior followed the man, who had introduced himself as Official Bryan, down a well lighted corridor and into a small room. There, the man presented Junior with a small tablet, not unlike the data terminal Dank or McComb carried.
"This is your citizenship and employment contract, Junior," the man explained, "It is pretty standard as those go. It also gives you full rights to all of the possessions and accounts that formerly belonged to," he checked the screen, "one Martin Stevens, which belong to you by the Benevolent States United's Darwin's Right." The man smiled.
"What do I do with it?" Junior asked.
"Whatever you like. Sell it, keep it, give it away. It's all yours, every credit."
"No," Junior clarified, "What do I do with the pad?"
"Oh," Official Bryan understood, "Just place your thumb on the pad, your assets will be credited to your citizenship account and encoded to your DNA. This is all stored in a secure location on the Datanet."
Deciding he had nothing to lose, Junior pressed his thumb into the depression. He felt a sharp sting. Before the pain had fully faded, a green light flashed on at the top of the device signaling that the transaction was complete.
"Is that it?" Junior asked.
"Yes," Official Bryan replied, "You can stay and explore the station or return to your ship." He smiled again.
Junior was tempted to visit the surface, but decided to return to the G5496 to complete the official preparations and then drag Dank and Trixie May to the surface with him.
He was allowed to return to the ship and began coordinating the delivery of the ore. His crew and the ground crew seemed to have the issue completely under control, so he logged into the data terminal in his cabin to check his account.
Fleet Colonel Martin Stevens had apparently been incredibly wealthy.
Of note, there were references to an estate in the country south of
Junior looked at photo documents of both properties and decided his first real visit to the surface would be to the rolling hills and tranquil forests of the
Dank and Trixie May were only too ready to accompany him when he went.
