The Lord High Baron Bahnderad stood on the steps of his magnificent fortress and watched as various shuttles touched down on the nearby landing pad.  Most of the Barons knew the routine quite thoroughly. No one's main ship was allowed inside the planetary defenses, and all shuttles were deep scanned to make quite sure no heavy weaponry came in on them.

Bahnderad had been extremely interested to see if the Siolastres, what  a ridiculous name, attempted anything different. Alas that they didn't. He'd been less than happy that his assassination attempt at the Red Limit Bar had failed but at least it had fairly seriously wounded the annoying male of the couple.

COBRA troops (he did hate that name - well, perhaps not as much as he claimed) in full dress uniforms lined the walkway and the stairs up to him.  He greeted each of the Barons upon arrival. Well, except young Ty who was, as usual, hung over and lurking somewhere inside.

The shuttle from the living ship Aaru finally made an appearance. Bahnderad was interested in just who they selected to accompany them for protection, being allowed only four guards. No doubt there were more aboard the shuttle but that he hardly cared about. He just didn't want a bunch of them trooping into his home and into the meeting room.

Bahnderad plastered on his smile for Tregarth, who he didn't trust an inch, and then for Robard Meir, who was the sort of man the appelation cobra fit perfectly. You never knew what side he was really on. And then came the incomers, sticking their noses in other's business and, if all the reports were accurate, happily taking responsibliity for blowing up Sutta and pissing off the Syndicate. A rather stupid thing to do by any measure.

Bahnderad bowed and said, "Welcome Madam?  Siolastre.  And Mr. Siolastre?  The Darroch is here already, no doubt testing the quality of my brandy. It is good of you, as the head of the House Siol'Ster to join us."

Dinah smiled.  "You're too kind.  But then you always are, are you not?  It's a skill I admire."

Marc standing behind her, his hand on a sword that was strapped to his waist, frowned, as he looked around at all the uniforms and all the hardware they carried. "Expecting trouble, are you?"

"The Rim," Bahnderad replied easily, "is a bit uncivilized. You never know when trouble might arise. I've always found it prudent to be prepared. Please, go inside. Refreshment awaits. I've one or two latecomers to greet and then I'll join the rest of you."  Bahderad motioned for them to go on inside and servants were handy to show them to a large hall where refreshments were laid out and the other Barons mingled.  Not surprisingly, perhaps, there were no other women, other than for servants, here as guests, although there were a few bodyguards of the female persuasion in the crowd.

Most eyes swung toward the Siolastres as they entered. Most were also hostile.

"So nice to be back among friends," Dinah murmured to Marc.  "I've missed them so."

"Oh, I don't know. They do rather intrigue me," Marc replied, running his eyes across the throng.

"Do they darling?  Perhaps we can have a few of them over for dinner one night soon.  Oh there's Daddy Darroch.  And I see Tregarth and Meir.  But where's our friend Val?"

"He's lurking over by the potted palms. I suspect he's working on getting potted himself," Marc replied, nodding toward a rather isolated corner. "Let's go plot revolution."

"Sounds like fun," she said and let him steer her where he wanted her.

"Hullo, Drum," Marc said as he held out his hand to Daddy Darroch. "Boys currently out of quod and not dead yet?"

Daddy Darroch laughed.  "No thanks to them," he said.  "Still, you never know.  While they live there's always hope."

"Personally I think you should prentice them out to McGee and Zaf," Marc replied.  "Not sure they'd learn anything legal, mind you."

"They don't need an education in illegal, they already got that under control.. I heard it went well on Tyvek.  And that they were no more trouble to you."

"It did go well, and they were quite wonderful. Don't tell them I said that though," Marc added.

"They said you were unhappy that you weren't able to be more help when last we met.  I'd like to try to make it up to you," Dinah said.

"Oh," Drum said. 

"I'm hosting a small get together on Earth in a week.  I'd like it very much if you and your family would attend."

Drum rubbed his chin.  "Well, speaking for myself I shall certainly be there.  I'll let the youngsters know and they can answer for themselves, but I imagine they'll say yes, seeing as how it's a chance to see Earth."

"And, generally speaking, Dinah is cut from the same mold as your kids, so there's always hope of maximum mayhem," Marc added.

"Ah, then I'm sure they'll be there.  They thrive on mayhem."  He looked around checking on the people nearby.  "I've heard rumors about your new project," he said.

"Which one would that be?" Marc asked. "We've several projects in mind."

"The colonization project," Drum said, his voice bland and his eyes watching the room.

"Ah. Have we sufficiently pissed off the powers that be in the Rim with that?  They've been harassing our shipping."

"Oh I'd say so.  I've heard that it wasn't your charm and good looks that garnered you the invitation here.   So if you're truly sorry about my unhappiness over our last meeting, perhaps you'll see this business venture as a way to make amends."

"We'll keep that in mind," Marc was saying as servants began ushering folks toward the meeting room.

The meeting room was sort of Knights of the Round Table meet A Space Odyssey.  The table was made of some exotic non-Earth wood that gleamed in the sci-fi lighting. There was a sort of holographic thing taking up the open center of the round table. Marc was staring at it a bit perplexed about it when Robard Meir walked by and informed him, "It's some sort of privacy shield that covers the table once everyone is seated so we are in complete privacy. Or so the Lord High Baron Bahnderad would have us believe."

"Ah. How interesting. Do you ever actually discuss anything a spy might want information on?"

"Oh yes, you'll see," Meir replied as he left them to take his own seat.

Dinah shook her head and took the seat she was informed was hers.  Then she turned politely attentive eyes towards the head of the table and waited.

"I'd like to welcome our guests, the heads of two Trading Houses, the Weru'Ster and the Siol'Ster.  They've been kind enough to join us so that we can discuss the current security situation in the Rim."

"I'd like to invite our guests to share their thoughts first,"  Bahnderad said and took his seat, letting the two trading houses figure out who went first.

Dinah looked at Drum and pushed her chair back so she could stand.  She ran her eyes over the attendees and then smiled, a slight, self mocking smile.  "At present I have no thoughts on the security situation because in my view there is no security on the Rim that isn't self provided.  That said, I have no problem providing my own and am even willing to share."  She let the smile widen a fraction and sat again.

Drummond Darroch stood when Dinah finished. "She's pretty much put the nail in yer coffin, boys. The Council of Barons, as I recall, was formed as an attempt to provide some sort of interplanetary security.  So far as I can see, between the pirates and the Margassans, you guys are playing third fiddle, or something, because you sure ain't doin' your jobs."  Drum smiled all round and sat down.

Tregarth stifled a snort and nodded.  "Ah, the mighty wind of honesty blowing free and unhindered," he said to the air in general.  "Let us hope the ceiling isn't affected."

Bahnderad scowled. "It is true that things have gotten more dangerous of late. Only look at the sudden destruction of the pleasure world on Sutta.  The Syndicate is angry and is lashing out at whoever they can find."

"Ah, so the Syndicate is the problem?  Not your inability to protect shipping or planets?" Marc asked.

"Not the pirates?" Dinah chimed in.  "Who when last heard from weren't so much pirates as men trying to feed their families. Or rather some of them are.  I've not polled them all."

"It sure wasn't the Syndicate that attacked my ship the other day.  All hands missing, not to mention the cargo," Drum offered. 

"But, as I said," Dinah continued, "I've no problem working with others, sharing the resources so fortuitously and undeservedly mine.  Or even the expertise of my security force."

"Then I think, gentlemen, you should take the lady at her word. By all means, take advantage of her offers of assistance," Bahnderad replied.

"Of course, the space lanes along the northern frontier are off limits. And pirates having nothing to do with them," piped up one Baron neither Dinah nor Marc knew.

"Oh?" Marc asked.

"Margassans," the Baron said as if the word itself were a curse. "We all know that they are berserkers and killers. I lost a ship just recently. The cargo was gone and the crew was.... dead. And most painfully dead.  All aboard. The Margassans had left their mark to make sure we knew who did it."

"And what mark would that be, exactly?" Dinah inquired.

"They carve their symbol into the bodies of the dead," he replied.

"We all know what the Margassans are. They control the northern lanes and take what they want when they want it." Bahnderad explained.

"They aren't someone to mess with," Meir commented quietly. "They want to be left alone. They haven't attacked my shipping and some of my worlds are closer to their territory than yours, Kalesh.  If you leave them alone they won't bother you."

Kalesh stood and looked thunderous. "You, Meir, have always been blind."

"Perhaps," Meir replied quietly.

"It has, when ever I've considered the situation," Dinah said, "seemed to me that the whole Margassan boogie man thing was remarkably convenient."

"A point that's occurred to me on a number of occasions," Drum said.  "A number of the things they're accused of - well the motivation doesn't make sense."

"They've never made sense," Ty Valarian replied bitterly. "It wasn't your world that was totally destroyed! How could you understand their ferocity and their insanity!"

"You're right of course," Dinah said.  "But when you consider alternative explanations for their behavior they do make sense.  That's what's so puzzling.  Still, as I said, it wasn't my world."

"There were extensive investigations when Ty's world was destroyed," Meir answered Dinah. "It was... They tore the world to shreds within moments. And announced that it was a warning to the rest of us."

"A warning?" Marc asked, watching Ty struggling for control.

"Yes," Meir continued. "They claimed the Doge Valaria had destroyed several of their frontier settlements, and that he was amassing arms to attack the Margassan home system. I'm sorry Ty, but there was ... the world exploded from the inside. It looked to me, as I studied the readouts, that it was Valeria's own munitions that caused the majority of the catastrophe."

Dinah leaned back in her chair looking at Marc.  "Exploded from the inside.  Interesting."

"I'd like to review those readings some time," Marc commented thoughtfully.

"This gets us no where," another Baron hissed.  "I agree, we have been remiss with regard to protecting the shipping. I suggest a coordinated attack on the Pirates."

Drum gazed at him.  "Somehow I find that most -- daring -- of you."

"What exactly does that mean?" the Baron demanded jumping to his feet.

Drum opened wide innocent eyes.  "Why simply that it is a daring venture.  Bold, forceful, decisive."

The Baron wasn't mollified but he sank back into his chair after a look from Bahnderad.

"I'll take your suggestion into account, Baron Field. Have we any other old business to attend to?" He looked around. "No?  Then new business?"

Dinah smiled as silence settled over the room.  "A short meeting.  We should write down the date."

"So," Marc said, clapping his hands together, "is it on to the banquet and dancing now?  I do hate these boring meetings."

"And I'm ready for a drink," Drum said, pushing his chair back.

Bahnderad sighed. "And you, Field, wonder why we never get anything done.  Fine. I'll comm you all with a proposal within a week. The meeting called to an end."

Dinah worried her lip watching the meeting break up.  Then she whispered to Marc.  "Something about all this strike you as weird?"

"No, not particularly. But then I think none of it makes much sense. What exactly is bothering you?"

"I though we were here to get spanked."

"Well, what could they do?" Marc asked as he headed on over to the booze. "I mean, we aren't Barons, haven't signed on to their rules or prejudices so what could they do?"

"Threaten?  Browbeat?  Torture?  Or a number of other things," she said.  "all this makes me want to have a long chat with the pirates."

"Threats make them look weak," Marc replied. "Browbeating only works if they believe you'll cave. Perhaps they know us better than we thought they did.  As for talking to the pirates, which ones?  The real ones or the fakes?"

"Both," she said, accepting the drink he'd poured for her.  "Seriously Marc, there's something strange about all this."

"Well, I agree. But this isn't the place to talk of it, darling. I dare say the place is bugged like mad."

"Too true.  So how long are we staying?"

"Dunno. You pass out all the invitations to Earth?"

"Yep.  I surely did."

"So we wanna cut and run then? There's a few folks here I'd like to talk to but not here. Not now. Most of them will be on Earth and we have control of the environment there."

"If there's other's you'd like to talk to perhaps we should invite them?" she said.

Marc frowned. "I'll give it some thought. I would like to talk to Paxx about them first, see what he knows."

"Then I'm ready to leave whenever you are my love," she said.  "I mean it's been fun and all but I don't want to outstay our welcome, you know?"

"Oh I agree wholeheartedly. Let's wander over and offer our host our goodbyes."

They did and then they were outside and boarding the shuttle.  "Well," she said.  "What now?"

"Now we head to Earth. And see what exactly we can make of this party of yours."