Curiates And Curiosity
08 Aug 2018Cernig10
White petals the size of dinner plates, delicately edged with cyan blue, fluttered down to the manicured law in the slight artificial breeze of the Emperor Gaylen Trasken Tribute Garden on Emerald in the Cemiess system. A slightly-built man, balding and middle-aged, leaned back on his park bench and looked up through the branches of the alien tree, enjoying the long twilight of this luxurious world. He sighed and pulled a silver flask from a pocket of his brocade jacket, taking a quick swig of excellent Eranin Pearl whisky.He shouldn’t be this unhappy, after all, he told himself. Take Penny, for example. He had no illusions about why she’d stayed around, he knew what her career had been before, but having the vivacious young woman around was good for what ailed him and he’d told himself sternly to keep things platonic while he bankrolled her reality show “The Gourmet’s Guide To The Galaxy”. Now, he’d told her he’d be stepping back from the show a bit, staying on as executive producer rather than co-host. He’d bought, then freed, an expert slave chef from a top hotel. Tony Sapphire was a colorful, photogenic, ex-pirate and would definitely bump the ratings. The two were filming their first episode together just a little ways down the path, at an open-air restaurant popular with the Imperial elite, and Penny was loving it.
Then there was the reason he was sitting on this bench instead of watching the show’s filming. His carefully groomed Imperial connections had proven very lucrative, as he’d hoped. He’d doubled his wealth from even a loose association with the Denton Patreus camp in the Senate; an association that had brought new trading contacts, names to drop to functionaries to cow or impress, and insider knowledge of who was amenable to a little greasing of palms. The Empire’s toffs may pride themselves on their honor and ancestry, but they liked making easy money and being ‘in the know’ just as much as any Alliance commoner or Federal citizen. Still, the Imperial elite knew one thing better than most – power wasn’t always measured in credits. He still hated the idea of slavery too, it left a bad taste in the mouth...Jack took another sip of whisky.
“Excuse me, Mister Cernig?” Jack’s introspection was broken by the young man who had approached him. This must be the man he was here to meet. He looked up. Tall, thin, with a high forehead and long nose, and dressed in the very model of Imperial businesswear. A small silver badge pinned to his lapel: a stylized Imperial eagle superimposed over a delta symbol.
“It’s Cernig-Dix, pronounced ‘deese’ like the Old-Terran French numeral.” Jack corrected absent-mindedly for maybe the millionth time in his life. He gets to his feet and offers his hand. “And you must be the one Vice-Admiral Reeves mentioned at the Tiverion Academy dinner. He said we might be able to help each other out.”
“Yes, I served with the Admiral in Patreus service, when he was the Senator’s flag-captain and I was on the Senator’s staff. His family and mine go way back. Please, let us sit down again, it’s less conspicuous, just two gentlemen enjoying a rest and a chat in the gardens.”
As the two men sat on the bench, the new arrival noted, “Did you know this bench is dedicated to the memory of Lady Emelia DeCrosse-Boone, the Governor of Turir’s grandmother? I thought it fitting. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Marshall Wreyn Kaira, Baronet of Foster Relay in Smethells 56, which I hold in fee for my liege, Duke Alden Rowe of the Praetorian Curiate Assembly.”
Jack’s eyebrow rose a fraction at this introduction. This man may be young but he was well connected to the Patrean faction, born of a noble family in the Yauri system, and already a combat commander with a string of victories in his own right. His insurer’s brain was a sponge for this kind of detail and he’d read copious bios on possible contacts before this meeting. He knew the young PCA nobleman, at least on paper.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Marshall.” Jack inclined his head slightly as he said this, but kept eye contact. “I’ve heard of you, of course – and not just from the Vice-Admiral but from my contacts in Turir and Eotienses. Governor Boone himself made sure some news reports of your exemplary service for Lord Rowe and the Empire landed on my desk when I mentioned that I might be able to meet with a PCA representative.” He paused, then lifted one hand and carefully (this dangerous man wouldn’t go out unarmed, but it’d be well concealed) reached into his jacket for his cigar case, offering the young baronet one of his finest Kamitras. “I have to be direct here, I think. How may my humble self help the PCA?”
Wreyn didn’t answer right away, as the two men used Jack’s platinum cigar cutter and traditionally-made wooden matches to puff their cigars into life and enjoy the aromatic smoke. Finally, he spoke up, “We’ve heard about you, and been told by people on the Patrean staff and in positions of trust in Imperial governance that you’re an honorable man. Our investigations of your business interests subsequently bear that assessment out. We’d therefore like you to invest in one of Rowe Holdings’ subsidiaries. Specifically, Barnyard Corporation. You’ve heard of it?”
Jack nodded. The shipping concern handled a lot of the local government’s agricultural logistics business in the area around the SPOCS 900 and Nyoru systems. A sizable stake in that company would give his ships, and anyone he sub-contracted, an entry into that lucrative market - so he’d not just make money but have favors and new contacts he could use.”How much of an investment were you thinking about?” he asked, casually.
“We were thinking around a one-third stake. That’d also give you to a seat on the board.”
Jack nodded slowly, “That’s quite an offer, and I could certainly raise the money.” he told Wreyn truthfully. “I’d be a fool to say no, but I’d be a bigger one to say yes without doing due diligence.” Like pouring over the Barnyard Corporation’s public records and what his contacts could procure for him of their internal financials, as well as re-structuring his banking and loan arrangements in Turir and Eotienses to raise the capital. He thought about the possibilities for an instant, and decided there might be more on the table.”That’s unusual, isn’t it? For a mere Imperial citizen, and one not resident in a PCA system, to be given such a prominent position?”
Wreyn nodded immediately, he’d obviously expected this line of negotiation and come prepared with an answer. “Such a prominent position in the Duke’s businesses would mean he would entitle you too. We’re thinking the squire of some rural farming area on the planet Celsius, complete with a small manor-house, in fief. It’s not much but it’s true nobility, not the honorary stuff that gets ladled on by the Imperial Naval Auxiliary. That would come with a commission in the PCA’s military, of course, and we expect our pilots to show up and fight, not just be paper warriors.”
“Of course,” Jack replied. He didn’t enjoy combat, but he’d do it when necessary to protect his interests and those of anyone who had proven an ally. “It’s certainly a generous offer. Give me a week, two at the most, to study Barnyard’s financial position and I’ll have a definite answer. Another week to free up the capital if we mutually decide to proceed.” He’d already decided he’d take this offer even if Barnyard’s financials were on the outer limit of the Empire’s often-corrupt business and governance standards for honesty and soundness.
Wreyn stood, and bowed slightly. Jack did the same and offered his hand again. Wreyn took it in a double-handed clasp and nodded. “We have an initial agreement then. I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Enjoy the rest of your day, and the gardens.” He turned and strode off, nodding greetings to a few prominent Imperials he obviously knew, and who obviously knew him.
Jack watched him leave, mind whirling with possibilities. As he did, a curious sight attracted his attention, snapping him out of his concentration. A massively built man in a monastic robe, one hand bio-engineered into a huge claw but now tightly bunched into a ball of emotion, stood under the white-flowered alien tree, his other hand delicately tracing the nameplate below it’s spreading branches where it’s discoverer’s name was inscribed. The man’s face was the very epitome of sorrow, one tear rolling down his face. “I wonder what the story there is?” Jack wondered, then he turned back towards the garden restaurant and Penny’s filming, which seemed to be wrapping up.