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"Deadly Negotiations"
by Lady Rainbow

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em. Wish I did
Notes: This is a reworked chapter. (I have at least one in every story, it seems. Sigh.) So yes, this is a different chapter five than the one that was here before. Someone asked me about how the MACOs got to Enterprise so quickly, so here's the answer.

Slight Spoilers for ENT "Harbinger" and "Countdown".


Five

Travis sighed and rubbed his temples. His lunch sat untouched in front of him as he tried to concentrate on the PADD in his hand. A hand shot out and plucked the PADD out of his fingers. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sergeant Nate Kemper. The MACO tossed it into the center of the table, then sat down with his own lunch tray.

“Eat, sir,” Kemper said. “You aren’t going to be able to think straight in the next meeting if you don’t.”

Travis managed a smile and replied, “Yes, Dad. And I thought you were allergic to peanuts.”

“Nope, I’m not. Alejandro is, though,” Kemper said with his mouth full of peanut butter sandwich. “He’s sticking close to Philippe and Chang’s off annoying Lieutenant Commander Reed. Money and Hoshi’s checking in on McKenzie. Good thing is, the doc over there, the strange French guy—“

“Bernard. And yeah, he’s pretty strange. He makes Phlox looks sane.” Kemper nearly spit out his sandwich at the remark, but he went on, “He’s okay, though. Fiona’s doing better than he expected, and she should be back on duty in a day or so.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty tough. There was a reason why the major left command of the unit to her.”

That reminded Travis of something he wanted to ask him. “Nate, can you answer a question for me?”

“Yeah, sure, Lieutenant.”

“How did Lieutenant Commander Reed managed to get you guys on this mission so quickly? I thought you guys went back to Earth after the Xindi thing.”

“Ah, that. Well.” Nate cleared his throat, then took a calculated sip of his water. “It’s one of the Major’s last standing orders.”

“Hayes?”

“Yeah.” Nate glanced around him, then lowered his voice. “After that fistfight with the Lieutenant Commander, he had some respect for Reed...um, grudging, you understand. I think he had more respect than he let on. I overheard the Major talk to Reed and said that if Reed needed anything at all in the future, just let him know. Of course, this was assuming the Xindi didn’t blow us all to kingdom come.”

“Then Hayes was killed on the Xindi Sphere—“

“And McKenzie kinda assumed the promise. So when Reed called her, well, it was a no-brainer. We owed Reed, so we came running.” Kemper chuckled. “He’s not a bad guy...even during the time we were on Enterprise, we thought he wasn’t that bad. I dunno where he got the idea that the major was trying to take over—“

“Well, he and the major didn’t exactly get along at first. He thought it was a professional take-over—“ Kemper suddenly coughed and looked uncomfortable. Then Travis finally put two and two together and got five. “Personal, too?”

“Um...yeah. Let’s just say that Reed was competing for more than just control of his department.”

Travis sighed and looked up at the ceiling. No wonder Malcolm was so pissed off. Though Hoshi and Hayes would’ve made a cute couple too. “Did she know?”

“I don’t know if she did or not, actually. You’ll have to ask her. But the Major told us that if anything happened to her and he wasn’t around...to make sure she was all right. And if Reed ever hurt her, to go kick his sorry ass.” Kemper laughed at the memory. “Though I think it would take all of us at once to take Reed down if we did.”

“I think Malcolm would take that as a compliment.” Travis shook his head again at the story. So, that explained how the MACOs arrived so quickly, and why they seemed so overprotective.

“Yeah, don’t tell the Lieutenant Commander about...well, the deal with Hoshi, OK. He doesn’t know about that and I’m not sure how he’d react if he ever found out. Matt—Major Hayes—said he’d come back from the Beyond and yell at us if we told anyone.”

“Matt? I thought his name was Jeremiah? Oh...his middle name, right. Fiona said something about that.” Travis’s grin became wider. “Don’t worry, consider my lips sealed. If Matt comes back to haunt you, tell him he can yell at me because I asked.” Travis’s communicator chirped. He sighed and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Damn. Come on, Nate. Time to play politician again.”

“No offense, sir, but I’m glad you’re doing it and not me. I’m more likely to tell ‘em all to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I’m not gonna say I’m not tempted,” Travis admitted as they made their way to the exit.


It was a complicated affair. Not only was Guillem Montclaire and Philippe present, but the entire executive board, a handful of executive stockholders and EdML’s lawyer, Yvonne Letrec. Also attending was Admiral Forrest and Captain Archer via subspace. Travis felt all eyes on him, but he ignored the cold glares of the EdML contingent. He took comfort in Archer’s encouraging look and Forrest’s smile. Hoshi sat next to Travis, and Malcolm and the MACOs took position around the room.

To his surprise, the meeting went smoother than expected. Guillem took a professional attitude and kept a tight rein on his board. They quickly debated each point on the agenda and made some compromises, but it took all of Travis’s skill to earn each one. The board members protested at every concession made.

“We cannot do this,” Monsieur Pierre Biori groused. “Imposible, Monsieur Mayweather! This requires us to make sacrifices that will weaken the integrity of this consortium. Absolutely not.”

“EdML will still be privately owned and administered,” Travis pointed out. “The checks and balances will be in place. All we ask is that there be some kind of accountability with the Starfleet Transit Authority—“

Monsieur Giuseppe Vernet scowled and leaned forward, his hands still on the table. Those hands trembled, betraying every one of his eighty-four years. “Directly to a military organization? This is insane. The next thing you will have us do is allow military personnel to be stationed on our private property.”

“How about if we appoint a neutral civilian liaison between the consortium and the Transit Authority?” Admiral Forrest spoke up. “One not affiliated with either EdML or Starfleet.”

“As I recall, your Cargo Transit Authority tried to do this,” Monsieur Jean Battonne pointed out. “And they were weak and ineffective. Because of that, we find ourselves in this dialogue to begin with!”

“The Cargo Transit Authority didn’t discharge their duties as specified,” Forrest’s tone was cold, “partly because of political reasons and partly because of outside interference. We will not have a repeat of the CTA’s ineffectiveness, believe me. There have been reports that were backdated more than ten years that never were investigated properly. That will be one of the first things we will correct.”

Travis raised an eyebrow. Reports like the ones about the murders of Philippe’s parents? He noticed a dark look on Philippe’s handsome’s features and a disturbed expression on Guillem’s . The head of EdML and his lawyer, Yvonne Letrec, exchanged a quick glance, so quick that Travis would have missed it if he wasn’t keeping an eye on them. He spotted Kemper’s nod of confirmation.

“...grievances against cargo transport claims, unexplained lapses in procedures, changes of personnel—“

“That is quite enough, Admiral Forrest,” Guillem said. “I will not answer to your accusations unless you have tangible proof of them. I am sure my nephew will make this investigation high on his priority list when he assumes his rightful position as head of the consortium.”

Philippe’s tone was as cold as Forrest’s. “Be advised that I will make a thorough investigation and find the truths of the matters, gentlemen. I understand the importance of a swift resolution, which will not happen if we are immersed in unproductive argument.” He deliberately avoided looking at either his uncle or the admiral. “Lieutenant Mayweather, I believe we still have a major topic we have not even touched upon yet.”

“Yes, Monsieur Trieste,” Travis replied formally. “The issue of cargo transport convoys from system to system. I understand there are some consortiums who are already doing so for protection from pirates. Under the formal Cargo Transit Authority regulations, that’s permitted as long as the convoy numbers six or less and with permission from the CTA and the associated consortiums.”

Silence fell in the room. No one said a word as they all remembered what had happened to Horizon and her sister ships. Then Guillem said, not unkindly, “As I recall, none of the cargo ships of the last attack had been affiliated with any consortium. Plus, it was the Cargo Transit Authority who accused them of contraband and fired upon them.”

Monsieur Vernet added, “Perhaps this may be cause for all cargo transports to register with a consortium, to gain protection from such illegal attacks.”

Travis opened his mouth to speak, but it was Captain Archer who interrupted this time. “Lieutenant Mayweather, it was my understanding that most crews of the transports aren’t affiliated by choice, am I correct? What percentage of them are?”

Travis thought for a moment, then answered carefully, “I’d estimate that sixty-five percent of the Boomers aren’t and thirty-five are. Most cargo captains prefer to be independent contractors, with the flexibility to accept contracts. They’re more like free agents, if you want to put it that way.”

Guillem stroked his chin. “Perhaps if more of the cargo captains and crews join a consortium of some sort, they might be able to form permanent convoy routes. We can provide adequate security to protect them from attacks from pirates and raiders.”

“It would make it easier to keep record of manifests and crew transfers,” piped up Monsieur Biori. “And it would cut down on the possibility of smugglers and rim runners as well.”

Travis kept a tight rein on his temper. “Would registration with a consortium be required for a guarantee of protection? I don’t know if some of the Boomer captains would agree with that.”

“Pride goeth before a fall, Lieutenant,” Guillem reminded him. “Forgive the reminder, but this last tragedy could have been prevented with adequate security measures.”

He felt a tight grip on his arm from under the table. Hoshi had placed her hand on his wrist and squeezed it. Travis took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty.

“They could register with the Starfleet Transit Authority,” Forrest suggested. “That way, we can still keep track of them and they can still maintain their sense of independence. That pride that you refer to, Monsieur Montclaire, is the same one that built the consortiums in the first place. If you have no one who works for you, you have no business. Simple as that. I doubt you want to alienate your working force.”

They spent more than four hours trying to work out an acceptable compromise. At the end, it still wasn’t to Travis’s liking, but at least the issue was being discussed. He breathed a sigh of relief as Guillem and Forrest brought the meeting to a close. The executive board lingered in the room, chatting with Guillem and Philippe. Travis wondered if Philippe had talked to any of the board members during the long lunch break, or any of the potential candidates to take his place as intermediary.

Malcolm put a hand on Travis’s shoulder. “That was well done, all things considered,” he said in a low voice. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“Thanks, Malcolm.” Travis replied. He tried not to smile at the odd looks that Kemper, Chang and Romero were giving Malcolm. “Actually, I’m glad we were able to talk like grown-ups for the most part.”

“Yes, they were all on their best behavior,” Philippe agreed, “even my uncle and Admiral Forrest. The board seems quite impressed by our performance, Travis. I think old Monsieur Vernet is considering hiring you permanently.”

“I’ll take my regular job, thanks.” He looked at Monsieurs Biori and Battone as they left the room together. “Did you talk with any of them?”

“I did, and they seemed agreeable in supporting my takeover of EdML. They don’t seem to approve of some of my uncle’s business practices.” Philippe’s blue eyes became like ice chips. “Apparently, there are some unfinished issues that I must take care of.”

Travis glanced sideways at him. “Careful, Philippe. You aren’t formally installed yet, and there’s still the problem of someone trying to kill us.”

“We’re working on that,” Malcolm said, with a look at the MACOs and Hoshi. “I think we’ll find a solution to that problem.”

“Of course, that leaves me with the hardest part,” Travis muttered. “I have to contact my Boomer friends and tell them about Guillem and Forrest’s proposals. This is not gonna be fun. They’re gonna hit the roof and go through it when this gets out.”

“Want to trade places?” Philippe asked with a slight smile.

Travis thought for a moment, then sighed. “No, Philippe. Not a chance.”


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