The next day and a half went by in relative quiet. Newscasts ran every hour or so updating the "YPC situation," with little from the company beyond canned statements saying there would be an official statement soon. Sofia could only imagine that legal documents were flying fast and furious between Richard's office and YPC headquarters, especially now that he'd pulled in government oversight.
They passed the time with—according to the crew—activities normal in tunnel downtime: caring for the bubbies, equipment repair, napping, and occasionally sneaking off for sex. The last one Sofia avoided, since it was hardly sneaking. Everyone knew who was missing and what was going on behind the one closed bunk door. Marta agreed that it was both hilarious and not for her, though they did share one of the inadequately-sized-for-it bunks at night for sleeping, while Tre swapped between Petey and Lanel, since the two males of the triad were too large to share, and three to a bunk was out of the question.
Afternoon was well underway, quiet except for the grunts and soft complaints of chionisaurs anxious to be outside. When the doors snicked and hissed open, everyone leaped to their feet. Sofia prepared to dive for cover and take Marta with her, but there was only one person in the doorway and he certainly wasn't Security. Instead he was dressed like the work crew, a cadaverous, mournful-visaged figure comfortable enough with the chionisaurs to pat Popsicle's nose on the way in.
"Stefan?" Shara stepped forward to greet him, her stance wide and wary.
"Shara." He shook his head, something like amusement lighting those sad eyes. "I guess your lot's been causing a ruckus. We've all been ordered here for a meeting."
"All?"
"The crew leads." Stefan stretched, cracking several vertebrate. "Don't think all of us would fit in here."
"Any idea what it's about?" Marta called from where she'd been brushing Snowglider's back.
"Not a hint."
The crew leads trickled in after that, Sofia keeping careful track of who was hostile, just in case things got physical. They certainly were a varied group, from Aliyah, tall and reserved, to Max, tiny and fierce, who muttered about reprisals if Shara had gotten their contracts nullified.
Shara's crew drew up closer, an instinctive pack reaction, and Sofia's head swiveled between one group and the other, worried that a fistfight might break out, when her comm pinged. Richard.
I'm on my way down to you, the text read.
You're on planet?
Took the express. Sometimes it's better to be a physical presence in the room. Harder to ignore that way. I'll be there in a moment, but so will the YPC contingent. Sofia, all of those things you laid out for me, now's the time to have them on the tip of your brain.
Stunned, Sofia could only text back, Okay. She glanced up and caught Shara's eye. "Um, Richard's coming down."
"He's here?"
Marta only nodded. "He must have insisted on a meeting. If they're seriously talking about renegotiating, it makes sense to have the crew leads here."
YPC minions reached them first, hesitating in the doorway with…furniture. Shara barked at the bubbies to clear a space and the minions trooped in to arrange a huge conference table with doc screens, chairs, and fancy water pitchers with matching glasses. The minions trooped out. The crew leads stared at each other in confusion.
"Shara," Aliyah's throaty voice carried in the sudden silence. "Explain. Now."
"Seems old Y-Corp's been screwing us over." Shara nodded at Sofia. "Ms. Cancino's lawyer's been looking into it. He's one of those high-powered business-law attorneys. He says some of the stuff in our contract's not even legal."
Stefan cocked his head like some giant wading bird. "But we're on work release. The contract's whatever they want."
"Exactly what they would have liked you to believe." That familiar bass—Richard was here. "Richard Khoury, gentlefolk. Ms. Cancino has retained my services to represent you. The truth is, Yule Planetary has managed, either through influencing key players or through holes in the process, to sidestep government oversight of your contracts. An entire bureau should have been looking out for your interests. But that's a battle for another day."
He completely ignored the open mouths and the more suspicious expressions as he made the circuit of the room, shaking hands. His command of the room was so complete, Sofia missed the person still standing by the doors until Richard turned to them.
"And this is Mx. Hue, the agent assigned to your case from Interstellar Correctional Bureau Oversight Division."
The agent offered a courteous nod, but there wasn't time for more, as the lawyers and managers from the resort arrived in a tightly packed mob. Just as the furniture minions had, they hesitated at the door, looking over the positioning of the chionisaurs before proceeding inside with proverbial noses in the air.
The suit in the lead turned right to Sofia, ignoring everyone else in the room. "It's time to stop all this nonsense, Ms. Cancino. We've been more than fair in our offers of compensation for your inconvenience. If you persist in disrupting the normal workings of this resort and the lives of everyone involved, we will be forced to call the authorities to have you removed."
Right to bully mode. "You do know the feed's still running, right?" Sofia stepped out from the safety of her friends, using her strident voice to its best advantage. "And how dare you. Inconvenience? It's dumb luck that you didn't kill me. No, I’m not backing down, and no, I'm not going away, because this is about a hell of a lot more than me now."
The IC agent stepped between them, offering a hand to the lead suit. "Jesse Hue, from Interstellar Correctional. I don't believe we've met." The tone said in no uncertain terms, I am the authorities.
To his credit, the executive or manager or whoever he was smoothed a mask of diplomacy over his shock before the handshake ended. The round of introductions began, people sorted themselves around the table, and Richard pulled Sofia aside before joining them.
"Deep breath. Dial it back now, right?" He patted her arm. "Let me get things started, then you can show them how we're here to work with them instead of against them."
Sofia nodded and eeped at a hard nudge against her back. Moon was trying to accompany her to the table. Shooing her away didn't work at all, but Sofia did manage to get her to lie down so she wasn't looming. Chionisaur as intimidation factor could at least keep the corporate types off-balance.
Mx. Hue opened proceedings with a list of regulations YPC was currently breaking or skirting the break point, including improper use of compensatory funding. They made it clear that lack of oversight was the Bureau's fault, no matter how the program had arrived at that point, and that the goal of their visit was assessment and correction rather than punitive proceedings.
The legalese flew fast and furious after that as the attorneys at the table went over Richard's filings and possible counter-filings. It all sounded like a pissing contest to Sofia, and most of the crew leads looked either bored or annoyed. They weren't stupid or uneducated people. Grifters, forgers, thieves of either physical items, monetary streams, or corporate secrets—all of them had needed sharp skills and quick wits in their previous lives. But this was all shots firing far over their heads—nothing to do with them.
At one point, Richard held up a hand. "Unless your goal is to dismantle the work-release program you have here, which would leave a gaping hole in your ability to offer the best possible guest experience, I believe we should be focusing on how your program can be improved in keeping with correctional regulations without a serious negative impact to your bottom line." He gave Sofia a little palm-up wave in invitation.
"Good afternoon." Sofia stood so she'd be better able to bring up charts and graphs on the floating holo pad. "You all know me as the woman who survived the pod crash, but I do have an actual life." A few uneasy chuckles followed her comment and she found a smile despite her anxiety. "Normally, I work in logistics, and having observed your transport operation from the inside, I can say with confidence that your emphasis on keeping the work crews isolated from each other has created some glaring inefficiencies."
A lot of bristling and muttering greeted this, but she'd expected it and forged on.
"Let's start with the configuration of your shuttle bases. Six of them, separated by several miles—"
One of the corporate managers, a woman who wore a seemingly perpetual lemon-sucking expression, began, "Our environmental impact studies—"
"Oh, yes. Read them." Sofia brought up the grid showing the stations. "Vital to take into consideration. But they didn't specify a single shuttle at each site. Shuttle landing temps and energy footprint of the base allow two shuttles per site as well within safe parameters. With only three bases requiring an operational budget— Well, you see the cost savings on the next chart."
Everyone at the table leaned forward, expressions ranging from shrewd to shocked. Sofia could've sworn she heard someone mutter I told them this years ago, but she couldn't tell who.
"You're cutting the routes in half." Max squinted at the charts. "Doesn't that mean only half the work crews? The rest of us get sent back to the colonies?"
"No. Not at first, at least. Same number of shuttles landing. Same number of deliveries. It might be possible to combine work crews over time with natural attrition as sentences are served and shuttle drops maximized, but it doesn't have to be that way." Sofia gazed around the table. This was the tricky part. "The plan on your readers details a list of ways the supply chain could be more efficient and cost-effective. But the big one is this—to run most efficiently, the entire supply chain should run under a single operational budget with its own management. Work-release crew pay and maintenance would fall under this same budget as well, to correct the irregular deductions from several departments from crew pay that fell outside of IC regulations."
There were disapproving faces among the corporate folks and a good deal of suspicion from the crew leads, but internally, Sofia grinned. They were listening and absorbing. Let her talk long enough, show them enough numbers, and she'd have them.
Richard gave her a tiny nod as she went on to expansion of living quarters at the bases, hydroponics, better power grids for the camps along the supply routes, and so on. The crew leads shot objections and suggestions at her at each stage in the process, which Sofia recorded in her notes for later consideration. The ICO agent took diligent notes throughout, nodding, only stopping her for a question here and there.
Actual negotiations would take days, but the people she needed on her side were coming along for the ride and the ones who had started out as antagonists were making tentative inroads toward cooperation.
Marta pulled up a crate to sit beside her, a silent pillar of support. For her, for the bubbies, for all the crews, Sofia would turn everything upside down, shake it vigorously, and set it back in a way that actually worked.