Part 31

Gentlemen. Welcome. I am pleased to see that you have all decided to attend.
First, allow me to thank you for coming on such short notice. I understand that you are busy men, and I don't mean to impose upon you for too long. Nevertheless, there is a certain issue that I feel it would be in our best interests to discuss.



I am sure you're all well familiar with this sight by now. This "company", this "Slev, Tark'la & Sons", has been growing at a rate I find alarming. Despite being a newly formed organization, they have managed to outdo each and every one of us in a matter of months. This is, I'm sure you'll agree, unacceptable.



Tell me about it. I've never seen a company shoot up so fast in my life. Those guys are good.
Au contraire. They do not know the first thing about commerce.



Oh really? Your little chart there says otherwise.
They are upstarts. Two men barely out of adolescence, one piddling, sub-par ship and a skeleton crew. This...success they have been enjoying is the result of luck. Nothing more.
Nevertheless, should this trend persist, our futures will be grim ones indeed. Make no mistake; we will, all of us, be run out of business if these fools continue to prosper.
What makes you so sure of that?
I have access to certain exclusive sources of information. They have led me to understand that Emperor Dred, fat cretin that he is, has decided to have us participate in a contest, of sorts. Quite simply, the first company in the colonies to attain a net worth of one million kubars will receive an accolade from the Emperor himself, and have the full support of the royal family from there on out.
Once that happens, all other companies might as well cease to exist. We will simply fall off the radar. Insects before a titan.



Oi, you. I was told there were going to be doughnuts at this thing.
If we could just concentrate on...
...by whom?
I dunno. Bloke with the tentacles, I think.
I never said that.
Well someone must've. Otherwise why would I be here?
You know, now that the issue's on the table? A doughnut wouldn't go amiss. Just sayin'.
Enough. There will be no doughnuts.
How 'bout a muffin?
Focus, gentlemen. I will not have this meeting sidetracked by confectionery.



Alright, nancy boy. I'm hearin' a lot of talk about these Slev and Tarkin fellas, but so far that's all it is. Talk. You got some plan for dealing with 'em, or are we just here to listen to you whine?
I'm glad you asked, Mr. Vandergriff. I do indeed have a plan, but I shall require the assistance of everyone in this room to see it realised.
You see, gentlemen, when dealing with large and dangerous prey, one does not simply go in for the kill. One enlists the aid of a pack, and the pack works in tandem to-
BOY I SURE DO LOVE UNNECESSARY HEAVY-HANDED METAPHORS
...
ESPECIALLY LONG-WINDED ONES THAT WASTE EVERYONE'S TIME
...Mr. Vandergriff. Mr. Puffer. You are to ensure that they do not gain control of any more facilities or ship upgrades. Should there be any further auctions in the coming weeks, make sure that one of you outbids them. We cannot risk allowing them any more market strength.
Mr. Gizzy. Mr. Roke. You two, I believe, have access to the fastest vessels of anyone here. Your task is simple; deprive them of commodities. Beat them to their every destination and buy everything worth buying. Everything. Leave nothing that will turn them a profit.
Uh, I'm not really a clairvoyant? How are we supposed to know where they're going before they even go?
And just how the hell am I meant to find out what they're bidding? Call 'em up and ask nice?
There are ways, Mr. Vandergriff.



Evenin'.
This is Brow, an associate of mine. He specialises in the gathering of, shall we say, intelligence. He will be providing you with the information you require.



Now see here. Us ganging up on these fellows is one thing...I've always said that one needs to be ruthless to play the game...but I'll not have any truck with spies. That's just not on.
I'm sure there's no need for such a reaction. Industrial espionage is a perfectly common practice.
Common, vulgar, and thoroughly questionable. Not to mention unsporting. I knew there was something shifty about you the moment I walked in the door.
Consider my company withdrawn from this endeavour. I'll not be a party to your trickery, thank you very much.
...very well. Don't let me detain you, then.
I certainly won't. Good day.






Well hell. Now what?
Now we continue without him.
I thought you said you needed all of us?
I am prone to exaggeration. Are there any further queries?
What's your part in all this, exactly?
An excellent question. Suffice it to say that I will pull the strings of fate and see that their luck takes a turn for the worse. You'll understand if I don't go into detail, I'm sure.
Has anyone ever told you that you're really friggin' creepy?
Repeatedly.







You think we can trust this guy?
...that's either a trick question or a stupid question.
Maybe we should just drop out. I don't like it.
Neither do I, but he's got a point. If we don't do something, STS are going to stomp us flat. And I don't think he's lying about the whole thing with the Emperor. It sounds like something Nicolson would do.
Fine. But we can at least agree that he's creepy.
Yes.
Damn creepy.
Yes.
Like, holy shit.
Would you please get off my ship?
I like the chairs.






Pleather.
Please get off my ship.





Brow. It seems that Trading Corp. IV will not be participating in our little enterprise.
Shame.
Indeed. Strange that he balked so suddenly once the issue of espionage came up, is it not?
Very.
One would almost get the impression that he himself had something to hide.
Almost.
Something that could ruin his career, perhaps.
Perhaps.
I'm sure you know what to do.
Right.






Doughnut?
...
Yes.