Private IGBC | Cream on Chrome

[Caulder Dune]

Christophsis - Chaleydonia
Technoid Manufactorum Office Building

The elevator rocked slightly as it shot to the top floor. A few notes of a Skakoan hymn filtered through obscured speakers.

"Tech-noid, Man-u-fact-or-um," Caulder said, out loud, testing the words in his mouth, "Manu-fact-orum."

He continued this practice, working around each syllable as if it were a mountain in and of itself. As far as corporate names went, it was a work of art - a mouthful of the highest caliber despite only being two words. You had to respect it. Caulder repeated it again. And then once more, for good measure.

It was the kind of word you could stumble over if you weren't careful, and Caulder was nothing if not careful.

The Umbaran cast a sideways glance to the only other person in the elevator: his assistant, an unnerving-looking protocol droid that loomed a head taller than him. It stared straight ahead, still as a statue, red photoreceptors boring into the reflection of itself in the elevator doors. It made him more than a little uncomfortable, but such was life.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slid open. The droid shifted in place, straightening its posture as if disrupted from deep thought. It wordlessly followed Caulder out of the elevator.

From there, it was a quick walk to the office of Gat Tambor.

---

Gat Tambor​

 

[Gat Tambor]

The Skakoan identity was not one which so easily endeared itself to the overwhelming majority of the Galaxy's inhabitants. To anyone outside the methane doused industrial world ; Tambor could only be described as an eccentric and little else by other xenos. The Skakoan hymns which projected idly through the corporate wing of Tambor's installation deeply embedded within one the several high rise sprawls of Christophsis could only sound so starkly alien to any not familiar with the staunchly unique tongue of Tambor's native species. Sounding more than an instrument in itself if only barely regarding itself as tasteful to any of foreign ear.

"Foreman Tambor...Mr. Caulder Dune is soon to be here ; shall I begin the atmospheric transition?" The feminine voice of the copper plated protocol droid attending Tambor's office sounded out to him ; speaking in his native Skakoan as the Foreman toiled away at corporate work.

Begrudgingly; Tambor agreed as he lifted himself from the luxurious synth-leather padded seat. Thus began the slow and methodical process of placing the atmospheric pressure suit over his form. Each and every time he was reminded why the stark majority of his kind kept to themselves and never cared to leave his homeworld only to harbor a bitter, hard-nosed and xenophobic insular outlook to the rest of the galaxy's inhabitants who could roam the stars unfettered.

Soon enough the Methane atmosphere had dissipated in Gat's sealed office, making way for a sterile, oxygenated one whilst a smooth and genuinely smothering fragrance was piped through to conceal the otherwise...pungent smell that accompanied the methane atmosphere.

The doors slid open with a smooth metallic hiss ; the protocol droid present starkly to greet the Umbaran.

"Welcome, Mr. Dune. The Foreman awaits your meeting eagerly. Please, follow just this way..." The protocol droid offered, motioning a stiff metallic arm to follow as she led the Sith in her awkward mechanized gait.

"Would you desire any refreshments for your meeting with Foreman Tambor?" The droid inquired before eventually another set of blast doors opened to reveal the Skakoan's office. Furnished enough to make it look like it belonged enough a corporate chair of decent station though largely insignificant save for the windows peering over the cityscape beneath.

Standing up from his seat the Skakoan makes way to the Umbaran, running a hand up to adjust one of the several knobs over his chest plate in order to manipulate his voice modulator.

"Dune - to wh- OooEEoOOOOeeoOOOo what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a chair of the Banking Clan?" Gat said - his voice modulator shedding his true Skakoan speech for a brief moment before he was able to level it off and speak concisely.

Caulder Dune

 

[Caulder Dune]

A copper-plated protocol droid was there to greet him. Dune could see the head of his own mechanical companion turn to stare silently at it, as opposed to the straight-ahead staring it previously seemed to enjoy so much. Caulder gave a slight, disbelieving shake of his head once Tambor's droid had its back turned.

He followed her wordlessly to the office, hobbling along with the support of a cane he carried.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you," he said, almost sounding apologetic when it offered him refreshment.

In short order, Caulder Dune entered Gat Tambor's private office. He was immediately surprised to find it smelling faintly pleasant. Skakoans had such wonderful design sensibilities when it came to atmosphere control. From methane to an ocean breeze at the drop of hat - it was practically an art.

They shook hands, as stalwart captains of industry were wont to do, and then it was straight to business.

"It is always a matter of note when Skakoans incorporate. I find their engineers make for reliable investments. More uniquely, I've heard that the Technoid Manufactorum has ample business ties to both the Empire and the Confederacy. Is that correct?"

Behind Caulder, his protocol droid's head moved slowly from right to left, then left to right, as if surveying the room.

---

Gat Tambor​

 

[Gat Tambor]

Alarming - to say the least ; How much Caulder had already picked up from the Manufactorum's status in its rather infantile state within the Galactic marketplace. Though that was perhaps one of the primary directives of the Banking Clan and thus it couldn't truly suprising ; if anything a bit flattering that the Skakoan's corporation had warranted attention from the bankers so quickly. Perhaps his reputation among his fellow Skakoan as a well on the rise luminary of technological development had somehow breached the Methane atmosphere and at least fluttered among corporate circles as a footnote.

Regardless ; the InterGalactic Banking Clan had to deal in the potential of their clients rather than the history of them if they were going to retain any level of fortitude in their investments.

After a brief but firm shake of the hand ; Tambor sat himself behind his desk once more, if only a faint posturing of innate insecurity in the presence of the Umbaran before offering him a focused gaze ; the white and amber of his eyes barely peeking free from the metallic respirator visage that laid clamped against his pale green face.

"You would be correct ; the bulk of manufacturing takes place within Sith space and we've already established several contracts with the SIth in conjunction with one of their generals who has sent us the demand specifications for his designs..." Gat states flatly ; all but breathing a muffled sigh of reflief as he was able to speak clear, concise and unfettered by the ever delicate tuning of his voice modulator which converted the ear screeching notes of the Skakoan tongue seemlessly into Galactic Basic.

"Though...as you might be well aware ; the Confederacy is more inclined to favor men of our ilk, men of industry than the Empire is..." Tambor stresses candidly.

Caulder Dune

 

[Caulder Dune]

Caulder seated himself across from Gat, both hands resting on the head of his cane. He refused to relax into the back of the chair, preferring to remain leaning forward for some odd reason - perhaps out of fear his old bones wouldn't be able to get himself back out.

"Oh, I am more than aware," Caulder replied. "The Banking Clan's efforts to bring Sith space organizations to the table are somewhat hamstrung by their belligerent foreign policy and protectionist economics."

What Caulder - and to some extent, the Banking Clan - ultimately desired was a peaceable galaxy, amicably bonded together through shared markets and trade agreements. An end to the worst acts of galactic warfare that interrupted trade between the wealthiest regions. Commerce from the Corporate Sector and Tion Cluster was no longer reaching the Core - not to mention the majority of the Outer Rim. Money was being lost. Wealth was drying up.

The ripples could already be felt, and would soon intensify in the coming years. Everyone outside the Empire would be worse off for it, and most everyone inside would still be miserable - just for different reasons.

"Not many people with Sith-Imperial connections are so readily accessible here in the Confederacy, and fewer still are possessed of an appropriate level of business acumen. It's for these reasons that Director Harper has instructed me to offer you a seat on the Banking Clan's Executive Board."

---

Gat Tambor​

 

[Gat Tambor]

The Skakoan could only help but offer a nod of agreement to the initial sentiment of the shrouded Sith Lord before him. Leaning himself back as comfortably as he could being as the xenos could ; confined with his suit of heavy metal and methane pressurization.

"Indeed, Mr. Dune. But the Sith market is one of the titans of the galaxy ; only rivaled by the Confederacy in size and gross domestic capital. Navigating the tight grip of the rigid Sith plann- OOoowWOEOEeeooeoEuUWuWOEW Sith planning of its economic structures is a difficult one however in its size and ambitions, they continue to hunger for fresh worlds and galactic conflict, which means spent resources and an ever present eye for new instruments of death." In spite of an outwardly alien or even eccentric atmosphere about him ; Tambor spoke clear and concisely with a clear motive and understanding of context in his sentiment.

When Caulder sounded his offer to Tambor the Skakoan was met with but a sliver of awe. It had to have been known once the Banking Clan established communications with his office to set up a meeting that this very offer might occur. Understandably, the IGBC had a Confederate slant to it. It played host to a lion's share of the Banking Clan's assets and thus it meant the fate of the CIS meant largely the same of the Bankers. A reliance upon its market ; while a tact decision meant a largely rigid adherence to its crests and troughs. Tambor provided a means of expanding bloodlessly into territory which rejected most every private entity that didn't see itself puppeted by the Empire's own Banking Clan or Sith with an eye for profits over physical power ; much like the man under the guise before him.

"A tact choice by the Director. Undoubtedly a mutually beneficial agreement in the interests of both of our organizations. The Banking Clan is shouldered a great deal by the Confederate market ; expansion into Sith space would prove vital if you and the director wish to maintain the ambitions of the organization. I shall accept this offer. I can assume this call for a buyout of the Manufactorum?" Tambor said ; ending his acceptance with a line of further questioning.

Caulder Dune

 

[Caulder Dune]

"Yes, hardly a sustainable model," Caulder said, quite glum at the fact.

His grip tightened on his cane for a moment. The Empire was quite the economic titan indeed, but to what end? If all that power was flung behind more materiel for more wars... Pointless. Futile. Self-destructive. And perhaps most sinfully: wasteful.

But that was neither here nor there. The policy of the Banking Clan was to make further inroads with the Confederacy of Independent Systems, not affect any inroads or pleas with the Empire. Not yet. As if that would persuade them to alter their psychotic course.

At Gat's question, the Deputy Director shook his head.

"Nothing so severe. A five percent stake will do fine. And in return you will, of course, be given a one percent stake in the Banking Clan."

Caulder shifted in his seat, rolling his shoulders. Old bones cracked softly. "Your primary obligation will be to lobby the Confederacy to adopt our credit standard for matters of interplanetary trade. You may use whatever means you see fit, though the Banking Clan will happily back you should you move to become a Viceroy."

As it happened, Christophsis had something of a problem with its absentee Viceroy.

---

Gat Tambor​

 

[Gat Tambor]

"Viceroy?" Gat questioned, fumbling with the knobs and dials of his voice mod as he heard it crackle out of place. Mulling over it for a faint moment he'd speak up once more, glancing out of the window of his office into the crystalline cityscape immediately outside. Christophsis truly was his only avenue of political power within the Confederacy. Though this was a tall task and one that arose very quickly to the Skakoan. He was as tactful as he was ambitious. This wold be no hard task given the phantom Viceroy which had been all but absentee in the past half decade. It's even said no one had glimpsed him in the eyes directly since his tenure began.

"Christophsis could very well use a change of hands in its ruling order ; and it would necessitate no change of venue for my operations within Confederate space." The benefits stretched further beyond that ; it meant much more clout with Confederate buyers and of course, far greater access to public works contracts.

"Should the Confeder- OWEWERERUEOOOOOwoOOO Confederacy adopt this credit it would certainly be a greater catalyst than any other for Galactic adoption. I can only assume that should this campaign prove successful ; my stake in the Banking Clan would be due an increase, yes? It is only fair..." Tamor remarks.

Caulder Dune

 

[Caulder Dune]

Caulder gave a weak, thin smile. "You have a keen eye for fairness, Mr. Tambor. I can give you my personal assurance that your stake will be increased in the future."

Skakoans tended to possess a certain mathematical cunning. They were meticulous, accounting for every conceivable stray variable. Their political machinations (whenever they deigned to make them) reminded Caulder of engineering. Precise. Accurate. Efficient. That kind of ruthlessness had a broad set of applications, particularly in economic spheres.

Which made Caulder more than confident Tambor would, indeed, secure a raised stake. It was practically inevitable - much like his path to becoming Viceroy was, regardless of whether he accepted the Banking Clan's aid.

Although he certainly hoped he would.

"Any other questions I might answer for you, Foreman?"

---

Gat Tambor​

 

[Gat Tambor]

"Excellent. I haven't any other concerns though I do hope I can expect further Banking Clan support in my campaign for viceroy? Though I don't anticipate much of a counter-campaign from the ruler currently in its station. In all my time operating in the Crystal City I've yet to hear his name uttered by anyone of any importance." Gat states as he begins to slowly stand up from his seat to make way to the overlooking window the offered a view of the uniquely shaped architecture of Crystal city. The planet itself was truly unique among not along the sprawl of Confederate space but the Galaxy as a whole.

"I've no...further questions as far as I can rec- WEWRERERERWEWUUUUOREEEE recall, Mister Dune. My office shall be in close contact with your's should anything arise. I expect it won't be long until we're meeting again." The Skakoan offered before making way toward the wisened Sith, offering a sealed ; gloved hand toward him.

"I look forward to further business between us and other chairmen of the Banking Clan." Tambor stated candidly.

Caulder Dune

 

[Caulder Dune]

"Oh, yes. We'll be in touch. Anything you require for the campaign, simply alert my office and they'll see to it," said Caulder.

But the Skakoan was right, of course. Galven Hansol had not been heard of for years, and his interactions with Christophsis as its Viceroy seemed negligible, at best. Not a difficult person to unseat. If anyone on the planet truly missed Hansol once he was gone... Caulder would be perfectly surprised.

The old Umbaran rose unsteadily and shook Gat's hand. His grip was delicate, as one would expect from such a fragile, venerable person. It was a wonder the Skakoan hadn't mistakenly crushed the bones to dust.

"Likewise, Mr. Tambor. Likewise," Caulder replied, nodding congenially. "Come along, T9."

The protocol droid that followed Caulder in jerked its ahead back forward. It had apparently spent the entire meeting staring at a sculpture in the far corner, ruminating on who knew what. It clanked after the Deputy Director, consistent, at least, in its silence.

---

Gat Tambor​