“Just to clarify a bit here, Mr. Soom, you are advising against going to Brentaal for the inspections?”

Kas pursed his lips slightly; he really didn’t wish to get back to that paperwork.

“Your plan sounds reasonable… I do not believe this inspection trip was advertised very much… I didn’t even know about it until today…”

Kas remembered one of the papers he had signed earlier, and a smile spread across his lips.

“Is the bait… military grade Isotoicide? I approved twelve shipments of the gas this morning…”

bong

Vinda’s desk beeped, and his secretaries voice came in loud and clear.

“Mr. Vinda, your shuttle leaves in fifteen minutes”

“Well?” Kas asked. “Are we going, or not…”

Kaneda watched in amusement as Vinda raised an eyebrow at what appeared to be Kas's eagerness to get to Brentaal. Then replied to the Secretary of state's query.

"..No. We do not believe these slicing attacks present a clear enough threat to Mr Vinda, or his business on Brentaal to constitute delaying or cancelling it.... Using the excursion as bait, however , I believe is an unneccessary risk"

Straightening his suit a little as he stood up from his chair, Kaneda focused his attention to Vinda.

"...So for the moment, it is business as usual. It would be prudent to perhaps lay on some extra security....just in case... I did mention this to Mr Vega, and he has arranged some extra precautions, they will not interfere with your plans.."

The Operative's eyes glided to Kas.

"...I daresay , by the time you arrive back from Brentaal , the operation we have already got underway, will be finished, perhaps then we shall have more answers..."

The agent did not confirm nor deny Kas's question regarding , what , exactly the set-up shipment consisted of. Instead , Kaneda bowed his head in respect and excused himself.

"...I hope your trip is profitable, Mr Vinda, and do not worry about these slicing attacks, I am sure we will get to the root of the trouble in due time...Section is monitoring the situation. As for now, I bid you both.... good day..."

And as both Vinda and Kas acknowledged the Operative, Kaneda turned quickly and , with cane in hand, purposefully exited the office.

As Vinda watched Kaneda leave the room, he took a thoughtful drag on his cigarra, as if considering the agents words fully.
Flicking the ash in an expensive looking ashtray, Vinda turned his focus back to Kas, and laughed a little as he spoke.

"...you're keen... fed-up with the office?..."

Before Kas could answer, Vinda rose from his chair and put on his suit jacket. As the two men left the office , Vinda stopped and gestured for his secretary to join them as they walked to the shuttle bay.

"...no meetings until further notice, We don't know how long this will take....tell Richter to hurry up with the Data-Dyne contract.....find out whats taking so long"

Struggling to both keep pace , and to keep a note of his instructions , the aide stopped abruptly as the Vinda-Corp CEO pointed a cigarra in her general direction and spoke with a grin slapped across his face.

"...and for future reference... the shuttle leaves, when I say it does..."

With that , Vinda and Kas made their way into the lift, leaving a somewhat harrassed looking aide behind.

Secretary Katta tried to hide his grin at Mr. Vinda’s words to the aid. Good point…

Once in the elevator, Kas addressed his supervisor.

“To answer your question. Yes, I am eager to get out of the office. We were supposed to migrate to those Ultra thin datapads the techies were gushing about a year ago, and I have yet to see one of them. I can’t stand paperwork.”

He turned to look at the light as it descended down the list of floors. The light glowed an incandescent blue, but was filtered by the glass to a icy glue. The light was hypnotizing, moving slowly down the line of numbers.

They were silent for the few minutes it took to slowly decend the hundreds of stories. The view out the back of the elevator was breathtaking, but both had seen it countless times.

With a ding, the door opened, and both Vinda and Kas exited, and headed toward the waiting speeder.

As they slid in, Kas asked Vinda “What did Soom mean when he said Vega would set some extra security up for us?”

His question was answered when he slid into a very large man, one of two in the vehicle.

“Oh, I see”

This could be a very long trip.

Paperwork, the bane of most businessmen. Unlike many of his fellow compatriots, ‘Skopos liked doing paperwork. It could be dull at times, someday it could be pure hell; but overall he found it quite absorbing.

Of course, it helps if you file all the juicy tidbits away for future use in your diabolical galaxy conquest scheme...

Galaxy conquest, such an overused, overrated term. Who wants to rule a galaxy full of dissenting beings, when you can simply own one key product?

That was ‘Skopos’s true aim. Galactic domination by holding the knife that could hamstring the economy. The empire could have the fleets of warships. The Republic could have the swarms of politicians, angry citizens, and impatient Bothans.

“Skopos’s revere was broken with an annoying buz from his intercom. His secretary, the man had no sence of timing, at all. As he pushed the button, ‘Skopos decided that this secretary would get to go work in the Vinda Corporation Archived Data Project. A job no one wanted. Tough, demanding, and absolutely no recognition, or room for mistakes.

“Mr. Skopos, there is a man for you on line three. He only gave one name sir... a Mr. Pike?”

“Put him through to my private com please”

“Yes sir”

‘Skopos waited a few seconds after his private com light turned green indicating a secure channel had been set. He tapped a few buttons on his computer, scanning for line noise. There was none, which probably meant nothing.

“Ah… Mr. Pike. I trust you found the chips we sent you satisfactory?”

Bonadan Southeast two

Landing bay nine



Waiting patiently inside the hanger, Achinta overlooked the preparations to the shuttle, like he always did. He had already performed his scans of the Vessel, and was watching meticulously the final stages of the refueling. This was a ritual peformed each and every time the shuttle was to be used. An exhaustive security measure most humanoids would find tedious quite quickly, but not Achinta, he oversaw everything, from its refuelling to the restocking of the onboard bar.

The shining chrome hull of the vessel stood out against the dull industrial-grey looking structure of the hanger. The Narcissus had gotten both Vinda and he out of tight situations many times.

Soon enough, just as the finishing touches to the craft had finished, the sound of a speeder caught his attention, clasping his hands behind his back, he walked slowly to approach the transport.

Achinta delivered a short sharp nod in greeting as both Vinda and Kas clambered out of the speeder to greet him.

"...good afternoon, Achinta, is she ready?..."

Keeping step easily with the Vinda-Corp CEO, Achinta smiled, as he replied, "..yes, everything is ready to go, at your word..."

Turning to face him directly, with a Cigarra clenched between his teeth, Vinda sounded upbeat..."excellent then let us waste no more time.."

Acknowledging Kas with a slight bow , the bodyguard moved aside and gestured for both men to take the lead up the luxury space yacht's boarding gantry. As the two obliged and made their way onboard , Achinta entered last, and with a final glance around the hanger, closed the airlock behind him.

Moments later the Hanger became engulfed in the pulsing crescendo of The Narcissus's engines, as they slowly roared into life.
Rising into the air , just barely above the ground , the shuttle inched itself forward, as it waited for the huge doors to the private hanger to slowly slide aside for the ship to exit. Its engines drowning out the noise of the warning klaxon alarms inside the hanger.

Finally with the priority clearance from traffic control given, The Narcissus launched itself forward into the Bonadan's skyline , the setting sun casting shimmering reflections and shadows across the vessel's hull as it climbed effortless up and through the atmosphere...

Destination...

Brentaal

“’Ey fellars! Come ‘ere an see dis!”

It was a voice bordering on laughter, for the guard thought what he had seen was so funny it justified moving several other guards over to see.

“Bunny es pein heemself!”

The surface. Once you were condemned to a life long sentence on Brentaal, you stayed there forever, unless they decided to end your misery. The surface. No one ever went to the surface, ever. Prisoners only came down – they never went up. The surface. Three men had gone to the surface in the last six teen years they said. Two came back dead – escapees didn’t make it far. The other was rumored to have been either executed - or set free.

“Eh, bunny, er gein te go teh surface my fran, teh serfece.” That is what the now laughing guard had said to you, a slight bit of regret showing on his face. You had worked hard; done almost everything they had told you. Despite the occasional whipping, the bad food, the lack of a Astraten Down bed, and the utterly miserable working conditions, it wasn’t that bad here, really. You attempted to rationalize what was happening, justify it to yourself.

You were so far into shock, so far that your urinal control went and you didn’t even notice. Your chain mates looked at you with a slight glance of pity, you’ve bought the last ticket now, the train leaves in ten.

“What do you mean, he’s here? Who’s here? Give me information girl, or I’ll .…..”

“I’m telling you, he just dropped in. No warning, no for-warn, nothing at all. He just... like... dropped in. You better like get down here Warden, he wants to see the prisons.”

“Who the frell is this HE! Who are you talking about? The food supplier?”

“No, no Sir, this is ... like ... what’s his name... Vinda, yeah, Mr. Vinda.”



The line went dead. Warden Michelson sat in his chair, behind his desk, stunned. Two days early, he’s two days early. What the frell... he’s two days early...



“Sir, are you there? Like, this nice man here says they want to see the prisons”

“T- - They? There’s mmore than one?”

“Yes Sir, apparently the like Secretary of State is here as well, along with several aids and other people. I here Mr. Vinda even has ... like ... a droid, who’s not a droid... a man with implants. I’ll bet he’s here too”

“The Secretary of State as well?”



Could the day get any worse? He had the tour all planned out, but the nicer parts wouldn’t be “sanitized” until tomorrow. He couldn’t show the CEO of Vinda Corp the raw prisons, VC would shut down him down without blinking. Just because it’s a work farm. So pussyfooted these business men.



“Yes Sir, the Secretary of State as well. Mr. Katta I think his name is. You better hurry, I think I see someone coming here – probably to tell me to call you again.”

“I’ll – I’ll be right there.”

“Ok Sir, I’ll tell them that”



Frell! He would have to somehow bypass the worst parts of the prisons. The prisoner quarters were clean enough; the upper levels were light enough that you could see easily. Lower level C-4, 5, and 8 were also cleaned. Only the minimum level of workers were stationed there to maintain the structure. Mr. Michelson shrugged his coat on, struggling with the buttons. The usual thought of “I need to loose weight” didn’t cross his head today. Perhaps a tour of the quarters, C-4 and C-5 will do it... F-14 is new, that should work too.

As he exited his office, the Warden wondered why the surprise visit. He had only been one day away from having the tour sanitized for the CEO. Only one day. frell, he’s a day early

Brentaal


Straightening his tunic, the Vinda-Corp CEO made his way down the landing gantry from his personal shuttle, with both Kas and Achinta following.

As they approached the small group gathered together to meet them, Vinda introduced himself and his companions , and became aquainted with each of the small party.

Brentaal's Governor, Torym Gulesse, a Brentaalian native, his aide, a Devoronian , simply known as Lossk, and the home affairs minister for Brentaal, Marneous Vanchau.

Gradually the entourage left the hanger, and congregated in the Space-ports more exclusive lounge, the kind set aside for foreign dignitaries and the like.

Vinda was genuinely interested to hear from the Brentaal's officials how Brentaal's economy was thriving, despite all the chaos the galaxy had been through. He listened intently as each talked in depth about what lay ahead for Brentaal, and what areas needed working on, and their suggestions for future business plans.

Eventually the formalities drew to a close , and the Vinda-Corp trio were led into a waiting speeder by the home affairs minister Vanchau, for a tour of the Brentaal prison.

He could see them, through the red tinted glass. Warden Michelson stood in the foyer of his prison’s guest entrance, gazing out the window at the approaching party. A slight dust storm had kicked up, forcing several aids to hold umbrellas for the higher-ups. Michelson swallowed, and nervously ran his fingers though his hair. The glass he was looking through had warped somewhat, causing the view of the outside to bend, and twist in a sickening way.

Looks like how my stomach feels... Michelson grimaced at the thought. This certainly was an unexpected surprise – not being a pleasant surprise at that. As the small dust-swept party came in from the teeth of the sandy breeze, Michelson quietly cleared his throat and straightened his coat. Best to make a good impression.

More than the forewarned two people were here. Michelson’s left eyelid twitched slightly as he counted not two, but six people. He spotted the governor of Brentaal, Torym Gulesse, and returned the nod given in his direction. That other was Vanchau, Michelson had only seen him once or twice. Then there was Mr. Vinda himself – the owner of Vinda Corp. His aid apparently, the one dressed in black that seemed to hover around the CEO. The Secretary of State, Mr. Katta, an humanoid with grey skin and coal black hair looked directly at Michelson, his black eyes making Michelson feel like he was being interrogated.

Bracing himself for what could turn into a disaster for his future with the Brentaal Department of Corrections, Warden Michelson stepped forward and introduced himself to the still dusty party.


Twenty Minutes Later – Brentaal Prisons level C – 4


This Michelson is a jittery chap, looks like he’s being hunted. Kas had been watching Warden Michelson for the last ten minutes, his senses on the alert for foul play, or an attempted brush over of details. The man twitched at most questions, as if he was expecting one that would get him killed. Must be the job, always being with convicts.

The tour thus far had gone extraordinarily well, the prisons were clean, the prisoners working diligently. There were no obvious cover-ups that Kas could see. Other than the warden being so twitchy, he unfortunately didn’t see any reason why their little party wouldn’t be out of here in another twenty minutes or so.

As the tour turned a corner, and headed right, Kas noticed two men coming toward them from the left turn. A guard and a prisoner with the former leading the latter. As Kas’ party turned right again, Kas looked back to get a better glimpse. Isn’t that a Amos Galactic limited edition that prisoner is wearing?