NationStates Jolt Archive

A small shuttle in the orbit of the Dersconi capital...

Nothing of any particular significance when thinking about it in the public sense. It requested general landing clearances, and said clearances were given. It was the usual sort of every-day public dealings. The shuttle made its descent, landing at its designated platform. Its passengers were haggled by peddlers as they tried to con the newcomers out of their money.

Yet, one man seemed out of place with these passengers. He wore business attire that stood out. This especially took the interest of the peddlers, but their attempts to sell him anything were filled with not but failure. As the man left the disheartened peddlers, he casually flagged a cab, the vehicle pulling up to him. As the man entered the vehicle, the cabby turned to him.

"Where ya goin', bud?" The man's thick accent was apparent, and he definitely looked the type to be of a minority ethnic group within the Dersconi race in general.

"The Palace," the businessman answered behind emotionless features and a pair of sunglasses.

"The palace?" The cabby was a bit taken aback. "Man, that's on the moon. Don't you do your homework? You foreigners are all the-"

A wad of cash in the cabby's face cut his sentence short. "Then find me a place where people who know how to get to the palace hang around." The business man was devoid of emotions, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

The cabby snatched the money, flipping through it before tossing it on the seat next to him and putting the vehicle into drive. "Right, boss."

OOC: I took a bit of liberty with your businessman, hope it's okay. Figured I'd avoid one-liners. :)

The small cab made its way through the streets of Drakongard on the planet Jörmungard quickly, evading potentially congested areas - after all, there was a substantial amount of cash sitting shotgun.

Eventually, the Skaugran businessman found himself being let out of the cab in front of the Nightwatchman, a high class "entertainment plaza" consisting of several bars, hotel, casino, brothel, and spa. He walked in through the gold double doors and into the marble antechamber, decorated as one would expect a palace to be decorated. Okay, he thought, running the directions through his head. Up the stairs two floors, hallway to the right, pass three and turn left, Shiaratos. The Skaugran sighed and made his way through the directions the cabbie gave him, finally coming to the Shiaratos bar, only to be stopped by a rather large and strong man who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win.

"This is a private club, sir." The businessman shrugged.

"I'm looking for Kandajr." The bouncer stared him down and gave him a once-over, smirked, and nodded. "Sure, bro. Just head on in, he'll be at the bar. You can't miss him." The bouncer waived him in, and if the Skaguran was curious as to why he was just randomly allowed in a private club, then with enough thought, he might have guessed that the bouncer was a psionic - like most of the Dersconi - and managed to warn people of the incoming foreigner.

Needless to say, the bouncer was right - it was hard to miss Kandajr. For one, he was decked out in an Aumanii Shock Trooper uniform, but with Dersconi insignia. Two, he was talking with a large Aumanii Shock Trooper. Three, Kandajr Kazankrov was the Chief Diplomat for the Dersconi Amaranthine Imperium, as well as a freelance reporter. In fact, Kandajr recently wrote a peace on Skaugra a few months ago, about its troubles with the host country of Naggaroth, and actually interviewed the Skaugran businessman about the situation. Well, he thought. Here goes nothing.

OOC: Take it away, Ska.

The business man took no extra time than he had to, casually walking up to the bar and ordering something off of the menu of drinks, something with no alcohol in it. He wasn't here to get drunk for it would ruin this business venture. Once he received his drink, he handed the bar keep a wad of cash the size of the one he gave the cabby and told him to give everyone a free round on him. This would probably serve him better in the future.

Once he took a sip of his drink, he turned to face Kandajr. "I know you know who I am and I sure as hell know you knew I was coming in, so I'm going to cut to the chase. I need to see the Andropov family."

While Skaugran money was worth less than the Dersconi Xelmarks, alcohol was very cheap, so the stack managed to serve all and then some. Needless to say, everyone was, while curious about such unusual circumstances, very happy with the newcomer. Kandajr smirked and winked at the bartender. "If he keeps this up, we might have to make him a member!" They shared a chuckle and Kazankrov bid his farewell to the Aumanii Shock Trooper, leading the Skaugran businessman out of the bar.

"So, you want to see an Andropov, eh? Heh." The Dersconi continued walking down the hallway until he arrived at rather nice looking elevator marked "PRIVATE." Kandajr smirked.

"You're in luck. Tarakh happens to be on the planet today. I'll take you to him." Kandajr stood in front of the door as the security scanner confirmed his identity, the doors opening up into the chamber.

The transporter ring immediately came to life, instantaneously moving them to the top floor, where two seven foot alien guards - two of the Ekhaecan, the sister race of the Dersconi - blocked the doors. Kandajr sighed, and it was only a few seconds wait before the two doors opened and the guards stood aside, and His Imperial Highness Veliky Kynaz Tarakh Tsarevich Andropov, Kynaz-Nyebnyoi Drakheimr, beckoned them in.

After serving a strange vodka/tea mix common amongst the Dersconi, Tarakh - dressed rather casually, in only a T-shirt and shorts - flopped down onto a recliner and motioned the Skaugran businessman to a loveseat across from him, setting his drink down on the glass table between the two pieces of furniture. Kandajr sat off to the side, and Tarakh spoke first.

"So, I heard you needed to speak with me, and you also seem to be one to cut to the chase. So do so."

"Very well, then," the businessman said, seating himself across from Tarakh. "GearCorp Industries is in a precarious position. Recently, as I'm sure you already know, the Jannarii government began handing out letters of marque to individuals seeking contracts. We recently acted as mediator for eight of said contractors, providing the contractors with their own ships with full compliments."

Placing the briefcase on the table between them, opening it but not turning it to face Tarakh quite yet. "The Board of Directors has no idea how the Overlord would react to our doing so and, as such, we find that we need to...protect our assets."

Turning the briefcase now, Tarakh would see what looked to be several data slates. "We have recently had two of our Board Memebers 'resign,' and we're looking to replace them. We believe that it would be in the best interests of your family, as well as GearCorp Industries, if we had two of the Royal Family of Derscon on the Board of Directors."

Tarakh nodded, running the businessman's words through his head. After Kandajr came back from Skaugra, Tarakh helped edit his piece in the Journal of Interstellar Relations, and managed to see all of the notes and drafts that didn't make it into the piece. So far, all was going as expected.

"I see. Well, it is an enticing offer, and the Andropovs are known for their business ventures..." Tarakh's voice trailed off, and the Grand Prince feigned going into contemplative thought. It was faked, though, as everything so far was predicted.

"However, merely being on the board of directors is not something that would, shall we say, give us much stake in the security of the company. If we're investing in your security, naturally, we are going to want it to be worth our while."

"Hence these data slates," the businessman responded, picking one up in his hand and handing it to Tarakh. "Each one of these data slates is the physical copy of one share of GearCorp Industries. In total, in this briefcase, there are but two hundred of these shares."

He then snapped the case shut and slid the container across the table to Tarakh. "This is but a gift from the current Board of Directors. Should your family choose to accept these positions, the Andropovs will find themselves one eighth the owners of GearCorp Industries, the sole investors with the most say in the company."

Tarakh held the data slate in his hand, raising an eyebrow. He turned back to the case and replaced the slate, snapping it shut again. Smiling he looked up at the Skaugran businessman and extended his hand. "I think you have yourself a deal. Two Andropovs will head to GearCorp Headquarters to take their position on the board as soon as possible and work out the details of the Andropov positon in your company." He pulled out a bottle of L'Empereur Reserve cognac and poured a glass for each of them. "I believe this will be the beginning of a long and friendly relationship between our two organizations."

The businessman accepted the glass offered to him, raising it in a small toast. "To a productive partnership between GearCorp Industries and the Andropov Family. May our future investments in this corporation benefit both in the long run."

He raised his glass to Tarakh.