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  • Results 1 to 10 of 10

    Thread: The Daily Grind

    1. #1
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      Open The Daily Grind


      0 Not allowed!
      Handing her another piece of flimsiplast, Denoel's assistant continued her long litany of instructions keeping the government employee abreast of all that was going on in the Imperial world. "This one's a copy of the contract that Kuat signed with the navy," the well dressed female informed. "I've sent copies to Intel as well as our legal team for final verification. The numbers have all been rechecked by your accountants as well."

      Nodding, Denoel's brown eyes were growing tired with the many things that she had to keep track of in one day, but it was what she had signed on for. "Terence was happy with this deal?"

      "He didn't hang up on me."

      That was a plus and usually meant the acquisitions department head of the navy felt they had gotten a good deal on the newer modifications to the now dated cruisers. "Meaning yes," she added after a long silence.

      "Yes, ma'am. Sorry."

      "No," Denoel glanced up to the very integral part of her job, an assistant that was able to keep track of all that went on in the background. "I have to deal with him on numerous occasions," she continued. "The dinner parties and other gatherings are part of my daily routine, it seems." Setting the page onto the stack on her obsidian desk, she then took the next as Gloria handed it to her.

      "This one's the final order for those Stormtrooper Two rifles that had been requisitioned three months ago. Finally didn't have a problem with shipping this time."

      Knowing piracy was still a problem when crossing various borders, she hoped the navy would be able to get a handle on that issue soon. Though it seemed an elusive goal, to be sure. Sighing, Denoel noticed the fifty crates tallied as arrived and stored within the vast warehouse complex that the military commanded. Their part numbers now added to inventory, she hoped that was the last she would have to deal with that mess.

      Straightening, the shapely human female backed. "And you have an eleven o'clock with the Sienar represenatative, don't forget."

      "Right," she grinned, nodding as tanned fingers closed the file and placed it within her private safe, concealed within the desk's foundation and closed the door. The biometrically sealed locking mechanism would secure the hard copies of everything that had passed through her office, keeping her own butt out of the fire in the future should anything ever come up. Billions of credits flowed in and out of her office for the military, so she had to be on point.

      Glancing at the hovering, holographic chronometer over the long desk to her right, she pushed herself up. "Best do my rounds before the luncheon then."

      Grinning pleasantly, Gloria led her from her spacious office and out into the maze of cubicles and glass-walled offices. Thousands of people that helped the Imperial machine run everyday and this was only one of hundreds of departments that the bureaucratic monster hosted. More leaders than soldiers, she mused.

      Thanks Alen Wiki

    2. #2
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      Passing the dining hall, she continued on hearing the holovid on within the large cafeteria, news casters going on about the latest events around the Empire, some blaming the Republic for far-off events that may or may not have happened. She had learned to take the news with a grain of salt lately. Some eager to have a paycheck didn't mind stretching the truth a bit, if not outright creating some fantasy apparently emerging from a "source" with an inside track. She had heard most of it before and was surprised that there were a select few that treated these stories as if they were gospel. Though some cafe's would be boring without the latest gossip stirring those seated in their pricey interiors.

      Leaning into the doorway of one of the many offices that she frequented during her tour, she grinned at the portly, suited man as he glanced to her from behind a bank of monitors, their light reflecting off of his glasses. "Hey, boss. Haven't heard yet about the back order from SoroSuub, but the sales rep said they were on schedule," he informed, turning his beady, blue eyes back to the screens before him. "And the manager from Tykon assured me that the new locks will be up to specs and they're on schedule for the fourteenth ship date."

      "Good to hear," she breathed a sigh of relief. "Any word from their C.F.O. on the costs for the upgrade?"

      He turned his attention back to her and shook his head. "Not yet, but I'll keep on that."

      Smiling, she pointed at him in appreciation as she moved to leave him again. "That's my boy. Keep me apprised of that one and let me know if I need to schedule a visit."

      "Will do."

      Moving on, she soon noticed the head of legal approaching, com node in his ear as he smiled at her while still talking to someone on the other end. One of those hot shots that never ceased to try and impress her, being the head of this vast department. "Get back to you later," he stated to the unseen call, then clicked it off as they neared. "Hey, Dee. Got tickets to the opera for Friday, you interested? Box seats."

      "I have a flight tomorrow night, but thanks."

      Sighing with disappointment, "Sorry to hear that. Should've asked first, huh?"

      "Yep," she chuckled, moving past him and not wanting to stop knowing he was probably just talking to at least one other on that same subject before she met him. "Still waiting on the contract details for that purchase with Corporate Sector."

      "Yeah, have my team on that now. Should have that ironed out by the morning."

      Nodding, she was growing impatient and hoped they weren't totally rewriting it again. "I'll need that before I leave here at nine."

      "You got it."

      Yeah, right.

    3. #3
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      Stepping from the racy, black luxury speeder, Denoel's tanned legs found purchase on the permacrete surface as she slid out from under the risen door, then quietly fell back as she moved toward the front entrance to the restaurant. It's manicured lawn and wild flowers delicately tended to by agricultural droids, she appreciated the facade to this haunt for many governmental employees and other businessmen in the Empire. Opening upon her approach, Denoel continued inside and approached the maitre'd whose pleasant manner didn't seem to ever wane.

      "Misses Quane, good morning. I have your table ready," he informed, then led her into the elegantly lit interior. Sunlight brightened the outer edge of the dining room as they coursed through the growing crowd, still being early for lunch as she had a knack for being earlier than her appointments. A trait that her father drilled into her growing up. "Here we go," he pulled her chair out and held it as she sat, then helped her scoot in. "The usual for cocktail?"

      "Tea, actually. Thanks, Mason."

      "Yes, ma'am. I'll notify Serena. Enjoy."

      Nodding to the equally young man, she scanned the sparse crowd in the dining room, nodding to an older couple that never seemed to fail being here for brunch. A daily ritual, apparently. Turning her attention to the hovering menu, a manicured forefinger pulled it up as she scanned for something light, yet filling and soon chose a soup and salad. Reclining once more, brown eyes turned to the outer windowed wall, noting the approach of a black limo which stopped under the cover of the portico and soon, the driver opened the door for her appointment. Well dressed, the three males and one female stepped from the vehicle and disappeared behind the entryway's wall and large flora. Soon, she noticed the maitre'd escort them to her table and she rose, shaking their hands in turn.

      "Hope we didn't keep you waiting," the elder salesman and director of Sienar grinned.

      "Not at all, just arrived myself," she returned, sitting as the rest of them did. "Hope your trip was uneventful."

      A light chuckle erupted from the quartet as two began ordering something to drink. "Indeed," Tremaire smiled. "No adventure with pirates or other unsavory characters. Nice, since the HoloNews Net seems to be full of such stories lately."

      Being an ex-pirate herself, she refrained from mentioning that. "Some seem to have a flair for the melodramatic, that's for sure."

    4. #4
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      Arriving with their drinks, the tall brunette smiled and moved to her other tables, leaving the Imperial with the businessmen. "So," Denoel began now that the niceties had been exchanged, "I hear that you have something new in the pipeline that the army and possibly, navy might be interested in."

      "Indeed," Tremaire grinned, taking out a small holoprojector and set it on the table. Touching one of the buttons on the small panel facing him, the image of a boxy troop carrier emerged. "These have been modified and refit to transport twenty Stormtroopers to a fight. Only needing two crew, it's fast and maneuverable compared to the older transports that the Empire's known for. The Lander's hull is strong enough to protect the soldiers to their drop zone and then get them back to their ship or garrison, regardless of where their support's located. A gunner can support the troops with this," he pointed to a roof mounted cupola and gun. "A F-Twenty blaster cannon, laying down cover fire as they disembark."

      Evaluating the transport, she was impressed by the many redundant systems that it seemed to have, protecting those aboard and ensuring they escaped any trouble, should the need arise. Though everything looked good on flimsiplast, she mused. "I like it. Love it more once we get to see it in action. Let the army try it out and see what they think." Brown eyes rose to the director of sales for the megacorporation.

      Nodding, he seemed satisfied with their latest design. "Sure, that wouldn't be a problem. I'll have our team fly one to your base here and let the army take it through it's paces." Glancing to the equally mature salesman to his right, then back.

      "How much?" Denoel knew this was where the corporation loved to dig into the Imperial coffers.

      "This transport is the top of the line, so," he mused a moment, a typical sales tactic. "Forty each."

      Denoel knew that was too high and so did he, but she would play for a moment. "We'll see. Sienar's always been a great ally of the Empire, so I'm sure we can work something out."

      Raising his glass, he smiled and they all took a long sip, but both parties knew this negotiation was going to take months, if not years to hammer out before the military saw the first vessel.

    5. #5
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      Actually, if that transport was 'top of the line', you would have offered it last year when your cost cutting austerity measures affected the repulsorlift technology.

      The Minister of Defense, in his ever "annoyingly quiet" state walked up to the table? Was he eavesdropping? Sure he was, though not out of mistrust for the government operative, the overpriced ships of Sienar Fleet systems were going to be addressed today. Truth be told, normally Tauren would not involve himself in these types of negotiations, but with the disappearances of Minister of Intelligence and the Empress herself, he had to step in where needed.

      The F-twenty is useless for anything other than armed dissidents. Also how do you know that the hull is strong? The curvature of the design? The angular styling? No impact armor to speak of.

    6. #6
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      Denoel smiled as the minister walked up to their table, rising as she set her glass down and motioned to the chair to her right. "Mister Tremaire Dyson, this is..."

      "I know who he is," the salesman and his entourage rose, nervously now at the comment made. "Good to see you again, Mister Saryl." He then introduced his four companions and reclaimed his seat as they all did. "You're right, of course, but this modified version is better than the last. Redundant shields, double plated hull and even a short range hyperdrive should the need arise. And besides, the F-Twenty is only for support as you already have our newest TIE fighters that no doubt have cleared the landing zone before your troops even land."

      Denoel loved this, smirking behind her glass as she took another sip, glancing to her guests now sweating and trying their best to regain some credibility with the Imperial representatives at their table.

    7. #7
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      What good is "support" if the weapon does not do enough damage to support? Troops need to know that the gunner who is covering them is able to take out a target that they might not see. You also have yet to answer my question about the hull. Though I will admit that your attempt to redirect to the new TIE fighters is an interesting one. Would you be referring to the "fo" or the "sf" model? What is the point of them? Why distinguish between the two when the differences are little more than a paint job?

      As the server brought him a drink, the Minister of Defense signed the bill, he would be paying for this dinner, but this was also a tactic to let the words hang in the air.

      You will forgive me if you are proving to do little more here than trying to shore up contracts that former Emperors once threw out with impunity. Times change, needs change. Now, you will stop wasting Ms. Quane's time,
      and insulting her intelligence, please.

    8. #8
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      Obviously flustered, the elder salesman nodded, glancing to Denoel apologetically as he now tried his best to reclaim some dignity at least. "I'll have my engineers take a look at the hull again and make adjustments," he stated, returning his gaze to Tauren. "It shouldn't take us long and as you know, tweaks are common with new projects. I'm just glad that we could offer something like this to our best clients," he pressed out a grin, obviously trying his best to shore up the widening gulf between them.

      Denoel cleared her throat, knowing now she had an opportunity to propose what her liaison in the Imperial department of defense had expressed. "Terence Akil," she began, knowing Tauren would recognize the head of requisitions within his own office, "had proposed some time back that you work with the military closer and develop a project with what they've come up with according to current needs in the field. Most of our fights now are with unpredictable mercenary syndicates with more imaginative weapons and tactics. What worked against the Republic no longer works against newer technology. We need something that can help our men in the field recognize dangers and either neutralize them immediately, or warn the crew early enough so they can call someone in, or avoid it altogether. The last thing Mister Saryl needs are a larger requisition of body bags."

      Tremaire nodded, obviously humiliated enough, but now given an escape to the light once more. "That would be great, actually. I'll send a team of our engineers to Bastion within the next two weeks and have them talk to the men." Taking a drink of his liquor, he set the glass back down once more.

      See how easy that was, she mused, nearly laughing but she knew that wasn't professional. At least not while the man was sitting here with them. She glanced to Tauren and winked, then noticed the waitress approach with their meals, then set each down before everyone at the table. Another opportunity for a distraction from the last few minutes of discussion.

    9. #9
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      If you are going to attempt to sell Ms. Quane that glorified school bus again, I will not oppose it, as long as the "double plated hull" and "redundant shields" are done away with for explosive impact armor and an increased sensor suite. All for the same price, of course.

      Changing his tone, Tauren knew that what he was demanding would tack on another price tag, but the ball was in Tremaire's court.

      When I was in Imperial Intelligence, I instructed others in sabotage and "double plated hulls"
      are simple to dismantle. That may do for the Cartel, or the Republic, it will no longer do here.


      This was not his meeting, this was Quane's, Tauren had little to do with it other than signing off on the equipment, as far as he was concerned, her time was valuable and he didn't enjoy it being wasted.

      He didn't enjoy anything being wasted.

    10. #10
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      Beginning to enjoy their meals, his four companions being rather quiet, Tremaire nodded at Tauren's additional requests and began eating. "Absolutely," he pressed out a grin. "We'll get our engineers here, as I mentioned and see what they and your soldiers can come up with and go from there."

      "Sounds good," Denoel knew that hurdle was vaulted, though not gracefully for the visiting representatives of Sienar. "I'll let their requisitions department know and you and Terence can work out the details of your visit. Sure he'll be looking forward to it."

      Moving on to other things, they shifted down to small talk though most of what her guests were interested in was the changes that the Empire seemed to be going through lately, most of their stories on the HoloNet being less than complimentary. Revamping the government and thus the other departments that once made the Imperial machine great seemed to be getting a facelift. Though with that she deferred to Tauren, knowing that was more his department.

      "What I can say on that front is the Empire is as strong as ever," she deflected. "Most of what you hear in the news is fluff anyway. Typically you're getting someone's slant on the truth rather than what's actually going on." Besides, what the Imperial hierarchy was doing to change things wasn't anyone else's business, she mused.

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