Cormond

Carid enters the bar, noticeably favoring the leg that had been grazed by a blaster. This would not be a long stop, so he saw no reason to remove his helmet as he approaches Pellaeon.

Quite the show from orbit, everything satisfactory on our end?

Without waiting for a verbal response, Kebiin lifts the pad and quickly connects its readout to his own HUD.

Kebiin laughs while he does a mental tally of the many uses he will find for his share.

Of course, as long as the credits are good I'm sure I'll be able to accommodate the work. Is there something you need done at the moment?

It was surprising that a Devaronian engaged in legit trade and banking, but he was credited as representative of an important comercial firm and the moff wasn't a man to be mislead by appareances.

"Riv Hessan, I heard you wished a meeting"

The moff's office was cold and unforgiving. Many straight lines and hard materials, with hints of luxury: there were delicate artworks in key positions over the room, well-lit and properly displayed, tastefully.

"Indeed, governor"

Ju'oda's marks were pale in the morning, but they pulsated slightly in a pinkish tone. He gestured for the tall alien to speak further.

"I represent a company which has a significant interest in expanding their interests in Brentaal, my Lord"

"So I've heard"

The conversation that followed went from the menial to the vital and, when it was finished, they had arranged the safe passage and the expedition of a trade permit for the company's sizable trade fleet. That would, surely, increase the traffic significantly and, most importantly, would yield even more taxes to the imperial treasury in customs. He sent a report to the sectorial overlord regarding the cycle's economic figures. Displayed on the holoscreen were raising numbers, all over the board. The moff had made sure the trade from the Core to the outer fringes would be redirected through Brentaal and with the establishment of Coruscant, again, as Imperial Center, the system had been bursting with economical activities.

The Devaronian bows and leaves, and Ju'oda could hear the whistle of the sliding door and the scrambled comms of the Death Troopers outside, notifying the departure of the banker to the security staff. The near-human moff leaned back on the chair, his fingers pitter-pattering its arm. He keyed something on the console.

Yes, the Muuns and the old bankers in Taris are still ahead of us, but not for such a huge margin.

He remained pensive for a moment. Considering customs were overflowing the treasury and that the trade route crisscrossing the system was the most efficient way of traveling to the uppermost systems in the galaxy... He introduced some numbers into the datapad.

Yes... that could do.

He had to increase, further, the atractive of Brentaal to investors and traders, so he figured out that by lowering customs a small percentage that would make the system more competitive. The potential loses would be compensated by the higher income yielded by the greater comercial traffic. He sent the proper orders to the bureaucrats in charge of the system's customs. Furthermore, he arranged a meeting with the planet's leading families. He had to ensure they would be willing not only to invest in improving their respective infraestructures for trade, but also ease the relationships with other entrepenurial families willing to invest in Brentaal. In exchange, the moff would provide guaranteed standards and the safe umbrella of the imperial authority to avoid aggressive competitivity and the absorption of local companies by the largest Core-located enterprises.

That would do, indeed.

He allowed himself a slight smile, while caressing the brooch that held his cloak in place.

"Fetch me the ledgers"

The commander simply nodded while the Quarren nervously twirled his tentacles.

"I swear, director, by my mother's spawning, there's no..."

Ju'oda raised a single finger, clad in a black glove.

"Karris, you were brought here for a reason. Unless you insinuate I do not know how to do my own job"

"My apologies, sire, I did not wish t-..."

A single gaze silenced the alien, who looked like he could bathe the director with ink.

"Aha. Shipment #14-AlphaConcord. Where are the records for this? It left Brentaal one season ago, yet there is not a single trace to where it ended"

"Pirates, sire! They raided the..."

"Why wasn't this reported to the port authorities and the IEA? A few Gonzati-class cruisers could have patrolled this route and found the lost cargo which was... coaxium. Which is listed and categorized as a strategic commodity"

"This is a shame, my lord, but the ship and crew were lost and I was afraid insurance would not pay back if I reported this to the pertinent authorities"

"Alas, sadly, for you, that much is untrue"

Replied the humanoid with a slight smile, while the Quarren's beady eyes could not conceal his terror.

"I planted an agent among your crew, trader. He reported every step of the operation. Your ship was not stolen, you sold it, with all its cargo, to the Resistance, that terrorist organization"

The alien went pale, all he could, and try to mutter some excuses.

"I-I-I... that's not... I swear... I s-s-wea-..."

"Sadly, my agent was unable to follow them to their hideout, as your crew was disembarked on a neutral planet"

"I had no knowledge of this, please, I will more closely watch over my business, this won't repeat it--"

"Undoubtedly it will not. I signed your execution half a rotation ago"

The director leaned back on the chair while the Quarren was dragged out the office, yelling. An assistant-director stood behind the near-alien director.

"Sire..."

"This is the second time it happens under your watch. Let this be an example of how I scrutinize your dealings, officer Torrge. This shan't happen a third time, you heard me?"

"Indeed, my lord, it shall not"

The director stood and watched through the viewport.

"Leave"

The assistant-director left with a nod. Ju'oda was left alone with his thoughts.