A way about you...

[Julius Sedaire]

There was a certain quality that was needed in business, that unfortunately his hot-blooded brother Julius lacked. Cal had lacked it too, for years. But whereas lack was a flaw eventually ironed out of Cal's makeup.... With Julius it had become a sort of strength and cornerstone. The ability to compromise, and the fact that sometimes even if you were right, you might have to say you were wrong just to get along. That was what Caladan Amadeus Sedaire was doing today as he walked into the boardroom in a pressed suit and tie of fine green and blue linens. Though one cheek held a smudge of engine grease and the nails still held some grit. And was that a spanner in his pocket, some might wonder?

See today he dressed nice because... Well... Today he was taking over the family business. Hostile like.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

As he walked in, some stood and moved to the front of the door to shake his hand, and some stayed seated, eyes cold, fingers drumming on leather bound ledgers. Cal made careful note of which and who, though his research beforehand showed true in that the board members who didn't at least try to give the air of congeniality were the ones he suspected were thinking of the move themselves. Unfortunately for them, Julius favored the good-time guy their father was. Cal favored the shrewd and calculating side of his mother, with just enough of his father to not be so cold and distant with it as she was at all times.

Shaking hands, he turned from the Head of the Board and smiled broadly, gesturing for a brandy pour as he took a presumptive seat at the head of the table. No guesswork. Strength.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

As the Head of the Board stumbled over himself, put off play at the protocol breach, Cal smiled and gestured to the seat at the back of the table. The man may have stood to shook his hand and smile and say how good it was to see him alive. But he had not attended Cals' funeral when he was thought dead, and instead had worked night and day to try and seize assets that his parents were left juggling. The man was invaluable, shrewed beyond belief. But he was a shark, a half Corellian with a dash of Coruscanti for the other half. And Coruscanti were brutal in the corporate world, and respected only strength. If Cal could sway him over to his way of thinking, the rest would fall in line to be honest. Half or more were indebted or outright owned by the man like so many trinkets or puppets.

And so, as Cal leaned back and raised his glass in a toast, it was more like an ancient knight saluting at joust. And the feet crossed on the glossy table were just insult to the challenge.