Play it by ear ha?
Ian remained silent, watching empty space, thinking about the things his coleague had just said, and trying to understand them in an holistic way.
I guess everything will go just fine then... He said after a while, and drank the last bit of whiskey on his glass.
It's getting late my friend, I should get going to my suite. Some hard work awaits tomorrow. You know, preparations for the toast and such.
He then stood and offered Mr. Maloney a handshake.
Rest well Maloney, I asume I will be meeting you again on saturday, right?
[IMG float=right]http://i.imgur.com/HCvgwNW.jpg?2[/IMG]As ever there was a roaring fire in the smoking room, radiating a comfortable warmth and a flickering light. A solitary figure sat in one of the large leather chairs. He didn't frequent the Duchess often, despite having held an invaluable entry pass for much of his life. The Director of Operations of Borderworlds Exports had won the affections of Lady Keswick of Cambridge at a ball he'd been able to attend during his youth. He'd been introduced as a friend of Lord Darling, who he'd been serving with in the Armed Forces as a young first lieutenant. Her father had a key going spare.
He glanced down at his watch to check the time - the MP he'd been due to meet should be arriving soon. He flexed his bad hand - the strong one - out of habit. It was an artificial replacement, skeletal and harsh. Today he could have afforded a perfect Cryer duplicate, covered in carefully toned and coloured synthflesh and hidden from polite company. He'd eskewed that luxury in favour of something much more robust and utilitarian. He found that the hand was a constant reminder of the brutality of the universe, which was an ever important perspective in the modern world. That and it unsettled the other board directors, which was useful.
The door at the room's entrance whispered open, exposing the silence to the jovial chatter of the lobby for just a moment. The room's temperature dropped slightly as air pressure rushed to equalise itself over the threshold. Right on time. Sir James Cromwell rose to his feet and turned.
The door swung shut behind him, cutting out the bustle of the rest of the building. Puctual as always, a quick adjustment of his glasses was all that Sir Richard Northridge required to be ready for the... social frivolities that sometimes were required of a Member of Parliament. His duties as one of the many New London Members had often brought him to The Duchess over his rise through the Royalist Party ranks, but this particular smoking room was usually kept for Bowex's purposes. This is what brought the Cabinet member here today, a meeting with an 'influential financial adviser to Her Majesty's government'.
A few strides over to the two velvet smoking chairs nearest the fire brought Northridge face to face with the Director. "Thank you for the invitation, James, a pleasure to see you again",
he said, proffering his left hand (the habit he'd developed) and his well-known smirk - the best he could offer as a smile. "How have you been? Running the war effort these days it seems, depending on who you ask of course."
.
Sombre as ever, Cromwell nodded. "I'm well. It is a pleasure to see you again, Sir Richard." He met the hand shake with his real, organic left. "As for the war effort... We don't run it, but we have an understanding with those who do." The two men had interacted sporadically throughout their careers, with Northridge working as a career politician in the Department of Business, Innovation and Skills. Cromwell had come to the Great Game later in life, attached as a civil servant to the Department of Trade and Industry after an honourable discharge from the BAF due to injury.
Taking a seat, Cromwell popped the clasps of the suitcase that had been resting on the coffee table next to his chair. From within he grasped a pair of fine Augsburg cigars. "One of the few civilised products of the Rheinlandic House," he sighed, proffering the item. Next he retrieved a small metallic object - a metal lattice encircling a tiny chunk of purple crystal. The surrounding structure looked unwieldy and crude compared to its almost ethereal prisoner. He tapped it lightly with his artificial hand. There was a small flash and the device began to hum, rumbling on the very edge of human audio.
On the opposite side of the room, the internal mechanisms of well hidden quantum computer listening device promptly seized and irreparably fused. 36 light years away, an intelligence operator swore and broke his fist punching a wall. Cromwell smiled wanly. "Just a trinket I carry with me for good luck. Pay it no heed."
Taking the cigar from his old acquaintance and taking out his own cigarette case given to him by his son several years ago, Richard produced a thick weatherproof match for the two of them. The memory of his son, who had gone missing during the war with Kusari, brought out a slight hesitation in him. The corner of Richard's mouth had barely dropped before it returned to his smirk once again.
"You always were rather lucky, James. *Ahem* other than that... unpleasant scuffle with the Mollys, of course." Stopping for a moment, he struck the match on the side of the case, lighting both cigars before shaking it out. "Still, twenty years in the Game and now raking it in as Director. Both of which keep you in good standing with the Royalist party." Taking a long puff and exhaling, he finished, "And as luck would have it, you get to fill me in on whatever you lot are up to now that requires such a luxurious location for the discussion. What did you have in mind?"
James took the match and held it to the cigar, puffing lightly until the end reddened and a small coal formed. Both men reclined and settled down for business as the smoke lazily coiled around them. Various strategically positioned motors whirred into action. Hazmat filters scanned the foreign body on a molecular level and removed any trace carciogens or contaminants that had not been caught by the tobacco's initial manufacturing process. The smoke was then deposited back into the room for atmospheric purposes - clients had complained when it had been removed altogether.
"What we have in mind, is change." He pulled a small dataslate out of his suit pocket and deposited it on the coffee table. Turning it on, a sheet of figures sprang into the air and hung equidistant between the two men where they could could be easily read. "You know as well as I do the situation we're in. The real situation - not the one we give to the BBC. We're facing destruction as a people. I'm advocating inventive solutions. Kusari are no longer our enemies" - he paused, gauging Sir Richard's reaction. "Those days have passed, and the ones reponsible are dead or fallen from power. A state of uneasy cold war exists between us, yes, but that must be rectified."
"For almost six centuries, Kusari was Bretonia's strongest trade ally, edging ahead of Rheinland and even Liberty in trans-border shipping output and revenue." He pointed to a line graph of corporate tax statistics from the decade prior to the Tau War. "Currently, Kusari is a fallen economic giant - their fleet is decimated and their government unstable. Despite this, their manufacturing baseline is untouched - they simply need the markets to make use of it. By alienating their commercial interests, all we do is further press them into the embrace of Rheinland and Gallia - which may I note, BIS already reports to be forming an increasingly hostile singular powerbloc."
He leaned forward. "Divide and conquer. Welcome their interests with open arms. Secure the boons of their import goods, take the money from their exports in return. Make them doubt the validity of an alliance with the Gauls, and see the benefits of returning to the fold of the established status quo. That is what we have in mind."
Scanning the data reel as he had often done throughout his career, Northridge blew a smoke ring through the projection as Cromwell finished his explanation.
"Things have rather changed in the last twenty years, haven't they? Bretonia had weathered the War and emerged the strongest, Kusari was our best trade partner, they had... tensions with Rheinland, and the French had unfortunately been stranded in Sol." Looking over to the other man directly, he continued, "Thinking of it now, everything seems reversed. Other than Rheinland being a mess, and even the Nomads seem old hat these days."
With his short laugh almost as if clearing his throat, he leaned forward, "While I don't think we'll be getting our fleet back or driving off the Gauls any time soon, an open-armed tactic does have its benefits. I don't quite have Thames House on call, but how are our boys in the Black Guard and the Diligents doing up north? A bit of aggressive persuasion worked rather well in the past, not to mention it would keep some of them out of Bretonia and stop scaring off the Rheinlanders!" This comment brought the smirk forth once again.
"So far as I'm aware, the privateers continue to do what they're best at. We're subsidising bounties on Gaul vessels in the Taus as well. Asymmetrical warfare won't replace Stokes hull panels when Leeds falls though." Cromwell lent forward and swiped at the projection. A new sheet of figures slid into view, with this one containing a lot more red numbers.
"Estimated production outputs." He pointed to a sharp plunge. "The Leeds economic cliff. If the planet had fallen without any preparation, we'd be forced to surrender within two weeks. Fortunately, BMM have been openly or covertly evacuating and outsourcing assets for the last three years." At this point the downward spiral diverged - one tapering off and levelling out, the other continuing to fall.
"Sprague looks to be a promising replacement, but it isn't the miracle solution many of your fellow politicians believe - or at least hope - it is. It'll take years to bring it up to speed. We need Kusari for survival as much as they need us for recovery." He pinched the end of the cigar out using his mechanical hand and dropped it into the ashtray. "I also have another strong bargaining chip that may make this a far more attractive proposal in Westminster."
"I've been in communication with my counterparts in both Samura and Kishiro. Naturally neither knows about my correspondences with the other. Both are petitioning their government on my behalf for a resumption of trade rights for all Bretonian assets. The Kusari junta have already responded favourably according to the CEO of Kishiro."
"Yes, we've been getting reports about your efforts to keep the House running should things get a bit messy. An awful shame to cede anything to the Gauls, but as you said we are facing destruction. Most of the important assets have been moved off Leeds already you said? If you've kept up on your history, James, rather a strange situation to be relying on the Yanks to come swooping in after we've held the line for so long."
Looking away from the graphs and figures as the hologram faded away, Northridge took another couple of puffs from the cigar.
"Up to your usual tricks as well I see, what a lovely animosity they have going on there. With both of them in a position of power, compared to say Gateway running around with its sense of importance." With a smirk he continued "Of course, making us a valuable trading partner with Kusari reduces the chances of them swooping in on Charles' beck and call. On that note, what about inevitably running into the frogs out there if the new Republic does let our boys out and about? We can't be having them taking our goods off to Gallia either. Any plans up your sleeve in that regard for me to pass on?"
Cromwell snorted. "Liberty, late as ever. I seem to recall they were rather tardy with their intervention against Rheinland in 800'. It took an invasion of Bretonia and Kusari before they came to their senses." He plucked the slate from the table and turned it off. "Ground defences are not my forte, but Leeds is probably as well prepared as it'll ever be. The Army should be able to carry on the fight even after the orbital space has fallen. BMM have been taking care of the specifics of their end of the infrastructure. So far as I know, the Royal Engineers have been using their sappers to prepare the various assets that can't be removed for... permenant decomission. The Gauls are in for a rather firey surprise when they land. If we cede anything, it'll be burning ashes."
A silence rolled out for a moment or two as both men contemplated the crackling flames in the hearth. Appropriately, a log collapsed under their scrutiny, sending up a sheet of sparks. Cromwell adruptly refocused. "You asked about our plans in Kusari, didn't you? We've got various contingencies for meeting Gauls within their core space. Generally, we'd focus on avoidance, but we do have one or two more devious tricks hidden away. Kusari takes a very stern view of private paramilitaries and will probably ban the use of our ExSec patrols. Most likely to prevent possible conflicts, but it does also potentially leave us vunerable."
"To circumvent this, King's Cross has been working on retrofitting several of our Shires with end-market docking modules. Simply put, we've developed hull refraction techniques with which we can spoof most scanner technologies. We could easily enough stow a security ship in our hold as a last resort 'pocket pistol'. This could entail taking care of any unexpected pirates, or... opportunistically removing isolated Gaul merchants. In any case, Gateway has managed the last year with relative ease. It may be worth emulating their business practices within the House." He steepled his fingers again.
"I couldn't comment on preventing Kusari corporations from taking cargo to the Gauls - that would be the domain of the Home Office and security agencies. Despite this, my personal recommendation would be to liaise with the Council in order to gather intelligence on who is doing what, and the 'Irregulars' to ensure those who are abusing our trust suffer for it."
