Let there be Space-Fish: pt04

[Captain Larraq]

Larraq once again found himself sitting at his desk, plodding away at paperwork while Talyn chewed upon a bone on the other side of the room. The relentless sun of the Sundari desert beat down on Mandal Hypernautics HQ building, one of the few structures to extend beyond the dome that protected Sundari City. But inside Larraq's office, both the temperature and the lighting were quite pleasant. The benefits of tinted windows and air conditioning.

A cold glass of lemonaid, barely spiked with a modest amount of vodka, rested next to Larraq's right hand. The ice in the drink clinked as they slid off of one another.

In front of Larraq, the projected growth rate, maturation process, and breeding cycles of the Marauder-class Mesen'Loras occupied the man's attention. Absently, almost of its own accord, Larraq's right hand brought the cool liquid to his lips, then back to its previous location. His mind wrapped itself around profit margins, initial investment, long term gains, and the eventual prospect of putting himself out of business.

With Dathomir anyway.

 

[Captain Larraq]

Taking another sip of his spiked lemonade, Larraq tried to look at the situation from another angle. He had a commodity that no one else was competing with him for. But once he started selling it, the balance of supply and demand would exponentially spiral out of his favor.

Larraq crunched the numbers.

The option was there. If he rendered the bio-corvettes sterile, he could generate a choke-hold on the manufacture of the species and better control the creation, sale, and distribution of the new line of Mesen'loras. Unfortunately, that meant producing an inferior product. And that was something Larraq could not stomach.

Larraq leaned back in his chair, glass of spiked lemonade cradled between two hands as he spun to look out the floor-to-ceiling window that made up one wall of his office. From this view, Larraq could see part of the domed city as it curved away to the right. Beyond it, Larraq could see the endless expanse of the Sundari desert. As endless as the flow of time...

 

[Captain Larraq]

Of all the vastness of the Sundari desert, it was Sundari city that stood alone within its expanse... drawing the Mando'ade to live within its safety.

Larraq stood from his chair and stood mere inches from the window. The glass of alcohol and juice was brought once more to his lips as he let his previous thought sip in.

"I need to give them a reason to come back to me." Larraq said quietly to himself.

Made curious by his current train of thought, Larraq turned back to his desk and began typing up commands. To his right, a massive holographic display sprang to life. Within it, spinning slowly, was the Mesen'yai station from which his Prowler Mesen'loras were created. It was a prototype. An experiment. A simple gamble that had paid off and allowed him to manufacture Prowler-class Mesen'loras far quicker than their limited biology allowed for. And it may just be the key to retaining long term profits with the new Marauder line of bioships.

 

[Captain Larraq]

Larraq pulled up the data on the frigate-sized space station, sipping the last of his drink as he did so. It was... expensive for its size. The construction itself was fairly standard. The shields were a little on the complex side, but nothing too extravagant. It was the life support systems, highly trained bioengineers, and numerous tons of rare chemicals that made the stations so costly. Not so much at the manufacturing stage, but just to operate them as a long term project.

Granted... it was a one of a kind facility. Just like the Mesen'loras themselves, the Mesen'yai station was a unique resource.

Perhaps he was looking at his situation in the wrong light.

Perhaps... instead of looking to make a profit from the sale of Mesen'loras... he could make his profit on the Mesen'yai station design... by charging the owners of Mesen'loras for the service of accelerating the growth and development of their living ships.

 

[Captain Larraq]

<It's not a bad idea.> Larraq mused to himself... If anything he had been told about the Witches of Dathomir was true, it was that the culture thrived on spiritual bonds with the natural world. Tools and technology were shunned in favor of beasts of burden. And he had the ability to provide them with a beast unlike any other. Maybe... it was possible that a few years or decades of working with Mesen'loras would allow the creatures to become as integral to the Witches presence in space as the Rancor was to their presence on the ground.

And if that gamble paid off... they would need a way to replace the ships they lose to battle. Even just for the sake of increasing their breeding stock... they would need to use his facilities to force the maturation of the beasts.

It was a gamble. And if his hunch proved wrong, it would be a costly gamble.

In the end though... he could afford the loss.