NationStates Jolt Archive

A dark, shadowy room. In the centre is a desk. Sitting behind the desk is a man. The man sighs, and presses a button. "This is the boss. I want a status update on the program."

"It's almost finished, sir."

"Excellent." The man pulls a cigar from his mouth, and blows a smoke ring, relaxed. Because this is the CEO and President of the Omega Corporation. Most powerful independent software company in Assington and Roania.

And he had contacts elsewhere. Because this man was also the Boss of the powerful Lokii Syndicate, the most powerful criminal organisation on the planet. Not a red cent passed illicitly anywhere in the Pacific or Mediteranean without his hands being in some way connected to it. He was worth millions, billions.

And the best thing was, if anyone actually tried to trace his bank accounts, they would fail. As far as all but the most obsessed detective would be able to tell, all of his money was legitimate.

"It's good to be the boss." He whispered, his throat dry. Xavier Romiraty smiled in the darkness. He had but one crime left to perform.

And then the world would be his own.

<----------------->

Miles beneath his office, a red eye glinted dangerously as the project entered its final stages.

In an office on the top of the tallest building in the Five Civilized Nations, the Sky Dragon, a 2,310 feet tall skyscraper, the board of the Crusade Corporation Conglomerate talked about the hostile activities of the Omega Corporation.

The CEO of the company, Crown Prince Alexander Crusade, was very angry, "What!?! Omega Corporation's planning on a hostile takeover of our subsidiary Orion Software!?! Who they think they are!?!"

"Calm down, my Prince," the CFO, Joshua Quo said, "We have to figure out how to stop the Omega Corporation. Already they have control a 49.1% stake in the company. We only control 48.7% of the stock... The remaining 2.2% of the stock is owned by independent shareholder..."

"Well, buy up all the stock you can find. I don't want Orion to fall into the hands of the Omega Corporation."

cool story :lol:

A team of very, very competent and skilled Lokii thugs arrived at the home of Mr. Henthrow, the sole remaining unaligned shareholder of the Orion Corporation. Each of them knew what they were doing. Each knew the goal they were working for.

Soon, Orion's labs would be working for the project.

They entered the house. There was a flurry of sounds. And then they left, carrying several tickets of stock portfolios and tickets.

The poison they had injected would make it seem as if the man had had a heart attack.

<-------------->

And miles and miles away, in a crummy, low-rent dive in the Port Agua Undercity, a detective woke up. "God... another day, another boring job."

OOC: Okay, now that the preliminary plot has been established, you can join as either a detective/bodyguard, a stock broker, an Omega/Lokii thug, or an Orion employee.

Jhon Macentyre, a well educated man and the brain behind Dannelands newest inventions in warfare. The Gundams. Sat in his studyroom in his house.
Looking at the computer as numbers flashed by. The telephone rang, he picked it up.

"hello?"

"Yes hello, my name is Bob Evans and I work for the DNB (Danneland National Bank) and we have some information regarding some stock that you own"

"well.. go ahead"

"Well, it seems that you own 2.2% of in Orion Software correct?"

"yes that is correct, what about it?"

"well, we have an offer from Crusade Corporation Conglomerate that wishes to buy those stocks. Making them the major stock holder. the pri"

Jhon interupted the man on the other line

"No no no, the stocks are mine and mine only, I was one of the founders of that company and I wont sell them. It has more sentimental value than money value.. tell whoever is in charge of COO that they can take their offer and.. well, you know the rest"


OOC: AAH! Ignore this post. Im to frekkin slow on writing >_<

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: Ofcourse they can, just look at good ol' Bill Gates ;)

I dunno what kind of tweakin you would do. But if you could get him in the RP I would apreciate it.

(OOC: Roania, Crusade Corporation Conglomerate is a 5CN government company, owned by the King himself. Plus all the patents Orion Software possesses is owned by the Crusade Integrated Corporation. And to put everything straight, Orion Software does high-tech military programming, mainly for the military of one of the 5CN colonies, House Ecaz.)

Alexander Crusade sat uncomfortably in his seat. Luckily enough for him, the Crusade Corporation Conglomerate controlled the board of Orion Software, thus they could make many decisions before the next board meeting.

Hastily, the board called a shareholders meeting in two weeks, hoping by then, the situation would be resolved. Meanwhile, the board began to liquidate the capital assets of Orion Software and to transfer all valuable research data to Crusade Integrated.

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: Ofcourse they can, just look at good ol' Bill Gates ;)

I dunno what kind of tweakin you would do. But if you could get him in the RP I would apreciate it.

(OOC: Don't worry, its all good...)

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: Ofcourse they can, just look at good ol' Bill Gates ;)

I dunno what kind of tweakin you would do. But if you could get him in the RP I would apreciate it.

(OOC: Don't worry, its all good...)


OOC: Great thanx :)

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: Ofcourse they can, just look at good ol' Bill Gates ;)

I dunno what kind of tweakin you would do. But if you could get him in the RP I would apreciate it.

(OOC: Don't worry, its all good...)


OOC: Great thanx :)

(OOC: And its okay that you cancelled my order... I was roleplaying a true reaction by my nation...)

OOC: No one can hold 2.2 of a corporation. He's fine.

Well, not as such, because thugs will be coming to visit him, but his place in the thread is fine. Just a bit of tweaking will fix it.

OOC: Ofcourse they can, just look at good ol' Bill Gates ;)

I dunno what kind of tweakin you would do. But if you could get him in the RP I would apreciate it.

(OOC: Don't worry, its all good...)


OOC: Great thanx :)

(OOC: And its okay that you cancelled my order... I was roleplaying a true reaction by my nation...)


OOC: And I RPed my reaction. Though, now I'l have to find another fleet -_-

OOC: I have a detective character. I might bring him in if I see an opportunity... I'm definitely going to watch this one. :)

(OOC: Just a note, the ships aren't built by my nation, its actually built by an Aerospace company called Cala and March Yards. Its owned by independent shareholders.)

(OOC: Just a note, the ships aren't built by my nation, its actually built by an Aerospace company called Cala and March Yards. Its owned by independent shareholders.)


Ah well, after I find out what TBD does about the war, lets talk things over like grown men eh? ;)

Just as he sent the communication, another Pretty Important Executive of the Tranest Corporation’s Private Contracts Division walked into Morit’s office.

“I hear you’ve got a very interesting contract, Morit.”

Danestar Gems liked to indulge a penchant for monochromatic color schemes, and the shade of the day was aqua. Clothing, makeup, contact lenses, nails, even her stylish wig were vivid with the color. It tended to distract people from the functionality of the microelectronic devices concealed in the nails, jewelry, and even the wig itself. Gems was one of the few colleagues Morit allowed himself to approve of. She was just as ruthlessly persistent as he was, and she was inventive, too. It made her a very valuable executive in the Private War subdivision.

“Oh yes. I think you could say that.” Morit didn’t exactly grin, but his eyes narrowed in satisfaction and amusement.

“Well?” Danestar demanded impatiently.

Morit chuckled. “Someone’s decided to take on old Xavier Romiraty.”

Aqua-tinted brows rose. “Not really!”

He nodded. “Oh yes. Very really.”

“And your client is?” It was a breach of etiquette, not to say security, to ask, but Danestar already knew she’d be pulled in as a subcontractor on this one, or Morit wouldn’t have told her anything at all.

He folded his lips primly. “A member of the Board of Orion Software.”

She grinned, aqua-tinted lips parting to reveal even white teeth. “So that explains the big hush-hush project in Southern Wastes. And…” she eyed him shrewdly, “you need me.”

“As you so perceptively surmise, dear Danestar. I need you.” They exchanged smiles, in perfect accord.

(OOC: If you want to go this way with this thread, it would be a fun way to link into this other thread: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=118013&highlight= , where I’ve already started building a mysterious facility for a mysterious client:

Acting as agent for a client preferring anonymity, Tranest Corporation has opened an account at Bank of Rienne, Ceyce, in the name of the Southern Wastes government, and deposited $10,000 for two lots, separated by at least 3,000 meters.

Lot one should be 12,500 sq. meters; lot two should be about 3,400 sq. meters. Neither should have any blockage to airspace, as we will be installing hoverports; both should have groundwater tables no deeper than 38 meters. Neither should be on known geographic fault lines or seismically active geological formations.

Upon receipt of the geographic coordinates of said lots, we will forward to you the number of the Bank of Rienne account.

After that, there will be no need for your operatives or designates to provide security. Tranest Security will handle all security operations during facilities construction. Upon completion and handover of the facilities to our client, they will assume security responsibilities.

Neg Wyndahl
Vice-Fixer
Legal Department
Tranest Corporation
Confederacy of Effrenata

The government of the Southern Wastes accepts your offer, but however has no knowledge of geographic fault lines or seismically active geological formations in the said area. Thou it is known that a complete sewer system and disused underground rail network exists, but these have never been.......um......er........'fully' scouted out for various reasons.

Government of Southern Wastes


Wyndahl handed the communication from Southern Wastes government over to Lindarn Rett, a Very Important Executive from Tranest's Private Contracting subdivision, without comment. (It was never smart to comment on the activities of the Private Contracting arm of the Tranest Corporation. They had no sense of humor and took security matters so very seriously, indeed.)

The slender, young-looking Rumlian smiled thinly as he read it. "Really. This could hardly be more interesting."

He reached into an inner pocket of his rather foppishly-cut tunic and pulled out a datachip, dropping it into Wyndahl's inport. A detailed map of the Southern Wastes area, with three-dimensional overlays showing geological, topographical, and other analyis, popped onto the fixer's reader. Two areas, one large, one smaller, were highlighted.

"These will do. Forward the coordinates to the SW government and set up the blind account at Rienne Central."

The thin smile widened to a feral-looking grin. "And tell Morit that we have the go ahead. They should ready the disinfectant units for deployment."


Feldahl Morit, Operations Manager for Tranest Private Contracting, was meeting with two Field Supervisors.

"You drop simultaneously. Fortress 127 will release all three hoverlanders midway between the two coordinates, at T=0. Landers 1 & 3 will go to site Alpha, 3 to site Beta. Drop the homing beacons first, then the disinfectant cannisters. Each cannister's load is pre-calculated for precise coverage."

"At T+0.06, drop the dispersal fans. T+0.11, drop the advance landers with their loads. They will have 15 minutes to establish preliminary perimeters with the explosive trip barriers, and set up the proximity warnings."

One of the Field Supervisors, Ged Brokenknife, frowned. "Why are we bothering with proximity warnings? I thought there were no indigenes except unauthorized surplus-- gangs and so on?"

Morit shrugged. "Fixers. Candy-asses."

The Field Sups rolled their eyes, and subsided.

"Once the perimeters are down, regular stage one deployment can begin. Task Groups One and Two will commence full perimeter construction, Groups Two and Four will do full survey-- topo, geo, seismo. Five, Six and Seven will handle operational security, Five and Seven at Alpha, Six at Beta. We want full IR, sonic, and duplo sounding by T+2.30."

"Apparently there's some kind of network of subterranean tunnels-- sewers, rails, who the hell knows what. As soon as the survey teams locate a viable entry head in each zone, Task Groups Eight and Nine will drop and begin digging."

"We have a fifteen-foot caradium structural framework, disassembled, to anchor the permanent perimeters. I want those sites sealed off from prying eyes by T+6.0. Clear?"

The Field Supervisors nodded, and left.

Morit pinged the Client Rep. "We're on schedule. The subterranean modifications we discussed will be forwarded through the usual channels for your approval in..." he checked the timetick at the corner of his display, "eleven minutes."

The words "message received" appeared in text on his display. He pinged his secretary for the next contract file.

If you’re not interested in taking it in this direction, just ignore this. Information on Effrenata can be found here-à http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=113835&highlight= )

"Twice in one year!" As Lucius Turner entered his office, he could hear loud shouts. Familiar voices. "Oh crap."

The chief of the Judiciary, Minister Charles Stryke himself, was walking towards him. "Your captain says you're the best."

"Really? He doesn't pay me like I am."

"Quiet. You've tumbled with Lokii before, right?"

"Right." Lucius moaned silently. Not a-frikkin-gain!

"They're acting up in the 5 Civilised Nations. You're going up there."

"What! But they're foriegners!"

"You've had experience. I want you to look into links between them and The Omega Corporation."

<------------->

That had been 5 hours ago. And now he was on a plane hurtling out of his comfortable homeland to deal with a criminal organisation which wanted him dead. Again. Just once, he'd like to have a normal case.

<----------->

Romiraty pressed another button. "I'd like to speak to the commisioner of police from this city. Tell him that I'm expecting Lokii to attack one of my factories."