Chapter 3 - The neutrality

Garland Unger gave a sharp, lizard-like nod.

If it is merely engine and reactor schematics you require, the Republic can accommodate. While advanced, they are not the state secrets you might imagine. We are more interested in the survival of our pilots within the Novanium fields.

The representative moved toward the door but paused, looking back at the holographic display of Robert's latest triumph.

Your work is a masterpiece, McBullum. But as a man of politics, I must offer a warning. The Terran Federation is not known for its patience when its citizens arm their rivals. You gave the Vossk Emperor a heavy ship—the ME T'munk—that could single-handedly dismantle a Terran patrol. They will come for answers.

Robert didn't blink. He simply turned back to his console, bringing up a new blueprint that blended Nivelian aesthetics with his own tech.

Let them come, Garland, my enterprise maintains absolute neutrality. I'm a businessman, not a soldier. If the Terrans want a ship that can out-fly the ME T'munk, all they have to do is bring their credits to the table just like everyone else. I'll sell to the Federation as readily as I sell to the Republic.

Unger let out a dry, clicking sound—the Nivelian equivalent of a chuckle.

A bold stance. I hope for your sake that your shields are as strong as your resolve.

With the agreement signed, Robert began drafting the ME Gazer—the Nivelian mining variant. It would be faster and more elegant than the ME Fortress, but at its heart, it would still beat with the same McBullum pulse. Robert knew the Terrans would be arriving soon, and he already had the perfect pitch ready for them.

******

The air in the docking bay felt significantly colder when the Terran Federation representative, Admiral Peterson, stepped off his shuttle. He didn't come with the grace of the Emperor or the diplomacy of Garland Unger; he came with the weight of an empire that considered Robert its citizen.

McBullum, the Federation isn't pleased. We have reports that the Vossk Emperor is flying a heavy fighter—the ME T'munk—that outclasses anything in our border patrols. Why are you arming our oldest rivals with such devastating hardware?

Robert didn't look up from his tablet. He simply swiped a screen to display the McBullum Enterprises charter.

Admiral, I've said it before and I'll say it again: my enterprise is neutral. I sell to anyone with the credits to pay, the Vossk included. Besides, the ME T'munk is built with pure Vossk technology. It was designed specifically for Vossk customers who value honor and heavy armor.

Peterson's face reddened, but before he could threaten Robert with a treason charge, Robert gestured toward the far end of the hangar.

However, I haven't forgotten my roots. I've designed something specifically for the Terran doctrine of speed and precision. Meet the ME Hammer.

The ship was a sharp contrast to the insectoid Vossk designs. It was a sleek, aggressive Terran-styled interceptor.

Stealth: It came with an integrated Sight Suppressor 2, the pinnacle of Terran cloaking technology.

Utility: It featured an integrated Nirai SPP-M50, allowing the pilot to repair allied ships in the heat of battle.

Power: With five primary weapon slots and a massive cargo bay for extra energy cells, it was a sustainable engine of war.

The ME Hammer isn't a tank like the ME T'munk. It's a ghost. It strikes, repairs its wingmen, and vanishes before the enemy can even lock on. It's the perfect counter to a heavy Vossk frontline.

The Admiral's anger cooled as he walked around the craft, his tactical mind already placing the ME Hammer into stealth-ops divisions. He realized that if the Federation didn't buy these, Robert would likely sell them to the Midorians or the pirates of Loma.

{His voice now professional} I'll inform the High Command immediately. They'll be sending a procurement team. We can't allow the Vossk to hold the technological edge, even if it comes from the same shop.

Robert watched the Admiral leave, a quiet smile on his face. By arming everyone, he had made himself the most untouchable man in the galaxy.

******

Pandora Station had never seen a day like this. The docking bays were filled with a chaotic mix of faction banners as the galaxy's three biggest powers converged on McBullum Enterprises. What was usually a sterile shipyard had turned into a crowded, tense trade fair.

On one side, a Terran Federation procurement fleet stood at attention. Admiral Peterson barked orders as his pilots boarded a massive delivery of the ME Hammer. He watched the sleek, stealth-focused interceptors with grim satisfaction, knowing his borders would soon be guarded by ghosts.

Directly across the promenade, the Vossk were arriving in force. Having heard tales of the Emperor's personal vessel, Vossk clansmen from every corner of the empire descended to purchase the ME T'munk in massive quantities. Their deep, guttural clicks filled the air as they ran clawed hands over the heavy, insectoid plating of their new fighters.

The tension between the two groups was thick enough to short-circuit a droid.

The Terrans looked at the ME T'munk and scoffed at the "lumbering, bug-like tanks."

The Vossk stared back with four-eyed contempt, mocking the "fragile, thin-skinned toys" that the humans called ships.

In the middle of this cold-war staredown sat the Nivelians. Having arrived to pick up their first batch of the ME Gazer, they seemed entirely uninterested in the posturing. A group of Nivelian engineers had found a comfortable spot on some crates and were literally eating popcorn—a human snack Robert had introduced to the station lounge—while watching the Terrans and Vossk trade insults.

{Crunching on a kernel} I give it ten minutes before a fistfight breaks out.

My credits are on the Vossk for the first swing, but the Terrans will probably try to file a diplomatic protest first.

Robert McBullum watched the scene from his balcony, sipping a drink and checking his spiraling credit balance. His comical vision for a "comfortable life" had officially turned the galaxy's military hierarchy into a neighborhood rivalry.