George Everett Rolph slowly paced the immaculate display room of the DSE office, Pittsburg. In the back of his mind, he took in the awards, lined up behind seamless armorglass, stretching back over multiple generations of daring spacefarers. His attention was focused on the inside, on the voice inside his head from his neural communicator.
"That is a substantial increase. Do we know yet if it's being subsidized by an outside entity? Kishiro, perhaps?"
The next few paces proceeded in silence, the rest of the team talking in low voices as their eyes followed the boss. "We have done all we could on the monetary front. The shareholders won't stand for operating at a loss, market rate or no! I'll make the necessary calls." Another short pause. "Good. Ensure that at least one vessel is operating around the clock. Report back in forty-eight hours."
One of the staff huddle, a diminutive man, broke off and strode up to the boss. He flashed a table of numbers on his datapad, and Rolf took them in without breaking stride.
"Node 297, Cole."
"Online, boss." "Howdy there folks. I just thought I'd remind ya'll about the tentative agreement we got goin' on here. We're still in great need of any of them Propulsion systems, and I know your people stock the best quality. If you're thinkin' of re-negotiatin' the price, I'll have my people look at the numbers again-" a woman from the group shook her head "and get back to you real soon. Meanwhile, why don't you continue them deliveries, and we'll talk reimbursement if we end up re-negotiatin', eh?"
One of the armed men in the room cleared his throat. "VIP is on the way, boss. Two minutes, give or take."
"Larissa, get me the latest on these people again, smart summary. Maybe the mics picked something up in the shuttle."
"Way ahead of you boss. Nothing but polite bullshit." "Well, no harm in trying. Be ready."
The woman merely nodded.
Rolf positioned himself near the big probe by the entrance, thumbs casually tucked into his belt. He cleared his throat, recalling the recent comm to get back into gear.
Finally, he nodded to the armed man, who activated something on his wrist. The doors slid open.
Pittsburgh, not exactly seen by most as somewhere pleasant.
The planet has a huge industrial background on Boron Fever, habitations, plants and refineries is all that is on the planet. Everything else is sand.
The Ozymandias Orbital came from it's primary mooring in California, a short distance away. The new Liberty Government rules on certain ships had James on edge. His beloved Bustard had been approved a new license but he was still on edge. He'd only ever hired external work forces for moving his base and delivering various goods. This was a meeting he'd been both hoping for and dreading,
Accompanying James outside of the crew piloting the Bustard were his cousin, Paul and his niece, Lola. Neither Paul nor Lola had been involved with any external communications until now. It's only down to desperation that James had reached out to the DSE to begin with.
Extremely self-proud, this was the last final stab before he had to admit total failure.
Upon mooring in orbit, a small shuttle was boarded by the three Preston's as they made their way to the co-ordinates for the meeting. What to expect, they didn't know. Visibility was poor due to the thick industrial smoke only raised tensions further as they blindly allowed the autopilot to whisk them on their way.
Upon landing, James was the first to exit the shuttle and politely approached the man stood before him.
Hello there, I'm James, I'm to meet Mr Rolf with my family and colleagues, could you escort us to the correct place please?
The DSE employee led them up the immaculately kept path and to the front doors of the DSE Headquarters, not a word spoken as the three visitors were in total awe of the wonderous building stood before them. How is it possible to have been kept so clean and tidy with all the smog?
It was no sooner than these thoughts and awe were almost rudely interrupted as the DSE employee's voice announced their arrival.
Rolf took them all in. He was struck by the man's apparent youth, though with certain available treatments from Cryer, one couldn't take age for granted. Still, his lack of experience showed by the lack of staff - no security, and only a pair of assistants, who looked vaguely similar. He stepped forward.
"Well, howdy there folks. My name's George Rolf, and I'm the CEO of this fine company. You can call me George - only people close to me callin' me Mr. Rolf know they've messed up somehow, heheh." He offered his hand to shake.
James promptly stood forward and gave a firm handshake.
"This is my niece Lola, my cousin Paul. A pleasure to meet you.” Both sheepishly also shook hands with George in turn as their names were announced.
James nervously but boldly said, “An amazing facility you have here, so clean. Shall we get down to business?”
Rolf smiled at the compliment, though it hardly reached his eyes.
"And here I was thinking of showin' you around this here display." He guided the younger man towards it by putting a fatherly hand on his shoulder. Cole already had the cousins well in hand, pouring out his charm as he displayed the company's latest acquisition in Cortez.
"I find it helps folks to know what they're getting into." He said, glancing at the long row of named plaques, and then back at the man beside him.
James looked on in awe of the almost endless podiums, stands and displays of awards and assets the DSE had acquired under the leadership of Rolf. Almost lost for words, he looked back at the man with his eyes glistening.
“Truly, remarkable. You seem to have every part of the industry covered tenfold, although I have done my homework. From my perspective, you were exactly the right man to reach out to. All we’ve managed to achieve is a single installation with a few niche but very much functional factories to list our assets. By far our largest being a Barge class vessel, fitted out to refine various minerals. I must ask, what is it you saw in us to being worth entertaining your time?”
As James spoke he felt that the question could backfire horribly, his nerves were certainly showing to his family if they weren’t to Rolf himself.
Rolf considered the question carefully. He gestured to one of the nearby windows, containing a stylized jump gate of a much older design.
"Son, have you ever considered why Liberty has only four major publicly-traded companies? Matter of fact, I'd say most Houses are the same in that regard, eh?" He pointed to the display.
"This here celebrates the achievement of an Allison C. Renner and her team in expandin' our reach beyond The Barrier, into Bretonia. But do you think Renner was DSE?" He smiled at Preston, and this time his eyes crinkled at the sides. "We like to remember her that way, so that we can lay claim to that achievement. But she and her people were freelancers, just like you." He spread his arm to include the man's family in the gesture.
"Are you beginnin' to understand what I'm drivin' at?"
Until now James had always believed it’s a dog eat dog world. That no corporation would look at anyone or anything unless it’s pure cash driven. He also had a huge sense of personal failure on his shoulders. How the Ozymandias’s operations hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped- just scraping by, in fact.
Rolf clearly saw something in what James and his team had achieved, the first point of ‘dog eat dog’ will always be true, but Rolf helped him realise in that instant that what he had achieved thus far was far from a failure.
Still, with much to learn he addressed Rolf again. “I see exactly what you’re saying and I thank you again for this opportunity, for both my team and yourselves.”
He walked over to the display of the Cortez acquisition, his eyes glistening as he looked at it.
“Are there any other displays here you’re particularly fond of? Don’t get me wrong, every single one individually is outstanding, just curious if any of the others top your favourites?”
His warm smile was hopefully taking the tension out of the air.
"There are many. But I find that them historical highlights ain't nothing compared with what we are able to achieve, here and now." He walked over to the display nearer to the other end of the room, with Preston craning his neck to notice the ones passing by. He stopped by a display containing three gates, with a stylized Kusari torch in the background.
"Take this here display. You'll be thinkin' that it's just another few gates, completed mostly by local labour, and you'd be mostly correct." Rolf briefly gazed inwards and wryly shook his head. "But the legal groundwork needed to even begin construction... The Keiretsu don't like outsiders pokin' around in their business."
He turned to Preston, giving him a nod and indicating that the formalities were now satisfied.
"And neither do we, son. But we both know an asset when we see it."
Rolf extended his arm in the direction of doors on the inner end of the room.
James, Paul & Lola were clearly buzzing with excitement, none of them had any idea what was in store, only that the bit they feared most was now over.
James, with a beaming smile, responded, “Well, you certainly know how to make people feel good about themselves! If you can’t tell already, we’re very excited to be working with you!”
James took almost bouncing steps through to the next room to which he’d been ushered. Paul and Lola eagerly followed suit. As James approached the door it opened automatically where he returned to normal pace, awaiting Rolf.
Rolf nodded to his team, and everyone but Larissa and Cole stayed put as they followed the Prestons into the tastefully-appointed conference room.
The conference room was well lit, had light refreshments placed neatly all the way up the centre of the marble table. Multiple seats with the same marble effect for the ridged parts, soft leather faced parts for the parts which make contact with the person sat in the seat.
The Preston's eyes all looking around at more awards and heavily detailed displays surrounding them.
They each took a seat on a single side of the table. Lola pulling a notebook from her bag eager to note down anything she thought relevant.
Rolf made himself comfortable at the head of the table, and motioned for his staff to take their places. One of the armed men shut the door, and enabled additional protection with the press of a button.
Rolf pressed the lid of a container by his arm, which popped open to reveal a neat row of Green Devils.
"The latest batch from Cortez. Help yourselves, folks." He said, touching one to the multi-tool on his wristband. The room began to smell of a rich loamy fragrance, with a pleasing acrid undertone. Rolf took a big hit, and exhaled with satisfaction as he surveyed the room.
"Now, let's get down to business, eh?"
Cole motioned, and the big panel screen on the wall came to life. Rows of incomprehensible data organized themselves into a number of simpler charts, all floating in a vague approximation of a solar orbit. Rolf pointed to the big DSE logo.
"We'll leave the regs for last. How about you folks lay out the state of your assets, and we'll decide how best to proceed." Rolf settled back into his seat as the Prestons exchanged glances, and launched into their pitch.
All three Prestons were curious about what the green things in a box were from Cortez. They raised curiosity but did not detour focus.
James, as always spoke first; “We are very proud of our base, having been in operation just over a year now. I believe the base once belonged to the DSE to begin with, alas, I could be wrong!”
He reached into his jacket pocket and picked out a small computer chip, slid it across the table to Cole who plugged it in as normal. Cole slid the presentation remote over to James. As if it was a table hockey puck, he diverted it toward Lola.
“You're up Lola!”
Sheepishly, Lola stood but the moment the first video-slide showed, her confidence exploded as if she'd been heading meetings all her life. She'd clearly rehearsed a number of times previous.
The image on the screen showed the outside aesthetic of the base. There was a clear distinction 50/50 split on the base, quite unlike any other.
The left side made up of several large biodomes, through which massive slides, dance floors and rest areas could be seen. All very colourful. The right hand side the exact opposite. Hyperactive factory-based modules clearly defined. The middle section also split into two. One clearly for welcoming guests for entertainment, the other for the mass delivery of raw materials and goods. They were split, with security weapon platforms guarding each respective side. The base looked like a Frankenstein sort of creation.
Lola: "Welcome to Outpost Ozymandias. Acquired in early 830 AS as a dysfunctional near wreck at only core two in level, we immediately sought to move it from the inhospitable area of Kepler into Liberty. The plan, which we have achieved and exceeded by far was to offer competitive rates on equipment and weaponry, but also offer a place to party, blow off steam, relax. An odd mix, business and leisure, however it's this unique mix which has seen us through to today. It's worth noting to date that we have successfully re-habilitated over 400 would have been' Xeno's from following a life of terrorism. Instead, they are now off in their own directions as Freelancers, mainly in Rheinland and Kusari. We haven't kept tabs on them, but they went in the correct direction."
She slides the presentation button over to Paul, who takes her place standing.
"Thank you Lola. The entertainment side is largely overseen by Lola, however she does do many other things as well. I primarily oversee the manufacturing side of the establishment. Our base boasts fully functional factories for producing Jump Drives of all classes, Docking modules suitable for all classes, an Exotic Weapons Foundry, an Exotic Equipment Fabricator, an Exotic Materials Fabricator and our very own style of Hydroponics producing some of the finest food you can imagine. We are very proud to be able to say we have perfected the blueprints of each and every codename gun. Our only custom thus far has been the Liberty Security and Military forces. Some mild interest from Rheinland officials but nothing overly profitable. We do have plans to make our own line of snub weaponry, however for now, we have no fully operational prototypes we can offer for testing as we are still running our own tests."
As Paul speaks, images flash past of the state of the art equipment and laboratories, along with some images of weapons being produced.
He slides the presentation button back to James, who continues.
“In addition to all the fine trained staff on board of the base, we field our flagship for testing the equipment. The Ozymandias Orbital, bustard class vessel which has undergone some quite significant modification. We've lost a considerable amount of cargo space in favour of a much, much more powerful secondary power-core. The result being that the ships weaponry can be used for far greater periods of time, whilst also allowing us greatly enhanced jump drive capabilities. There are some other drawbacks, but that's not important for now. We are also very pleased that we have an AWES- Implant ship, a Mastodon produced by none other than your company ”
He chuckles lightly as the screen goes dark and the room lighting returns to a normal level.
James walks around the table to be directly opposite Rolf.
“We have made advances over others in areas we have deemed a requirement, however, what we'd honestly like to do is perform like an actual haulier operated business which will support the paycheques of all staff we have on board, so any future research can continue without breaking the bank so to speak. We are willing to re-direct our workforce to become a robust, respectful and reliable haulier, & Manufacturer, just like you sir.”
