A Conglomerate

[Darth Empyrean]

Coruscant
0900 Hours - Corporate District

---

Coruscant never had much in terms of ‘air quality’, but Maliphant enjoyed its skyline. Large, foreboding, jutting towers with millions in them - lights showing a small glimpse into their lives, while the bright pollution made the sky glow in a way not often seen on other planets - Barbatos, perhaps held some of the same aesthetic, but Coruscant made it pale in comparison.

The sharp hum of an ion engine blew overhead as a ship veered from the traffic lanes, barely covering Maliphant’s harsh cough - a bloody, wet hack that left a small pile of blood in his hand. His silver hair had turned frail, and his face seemed sunken; he grit his teeth at what appeared on his hand - a harsh reminder of his ignorance. The Netherworld had taken more from him than he was willing to admit…

A door moved with the autonomous motors notorious of high end luxury and a voice called into his temporary apartment -

“Mr. Harper?”, it had called in.

Maliphant glanced back, quickly pulling a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his palm before replacing the force mask he had been using to hide his weakness - he greeted the assistant with a smile, his once wiry white hair back to a platinum silk. He beamed, offering a simple response -

“I’m ready, was simply enjoying the view. Are the corporate guests on the way?”, he asked with a cock of the brow.

“They are. Did you still want the wine to be brought in from the storage?”, she said as the two walked on, her pen flicking across a series of notes and checkboxes on a clipboard.

“Of course. Its hardly a business meeting without refreshments.”, he grinned as he straightened his tie.

The second set of doors opened, and they were in sight of a large conference table - immaculate, everything in the room freshly cleaned with a small smell of lavender. A beautiful, welcoming room for what was to come - and a gracious invitation to the conversations to be had. He smiled, found a seat near the head of the table, and glanced around -

They would be here soon.

“Anything else, Mr. Harper?”, the assistant said with a glance to him, her brown hair a frazzled mess of a bun behind her.

“Nothing, Miss. Please, go take a rest - Inform me when they arrive.”

She nodded, wrote another note, and walked away. A small voice chimed in, a sweet tone of a woman who never existed -

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Of course it is, Cybele. There’s nothing wrong with more money.”

“A cursory holonet search tells me there are well over a million reasons why more money can create more problems.”, she said with a robotic coyness.

Maliphant simply furrowed his brow at the ceiling, to the inanimate voice that watched him incessantly. The cockiness of Cybele was something his prior manifestation had programmed for the hilarity - but it had grown on Maliphant, a semblance of peace and nostalgia. He enjoyed it, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.

 

[John Locke]

Coruscant.

In many ways this planet turned city was the centre of the galaxy, perhaps the single most important market and planet for any business to be represented on...or atleast it used to be. Far in the past, when the galaxy was more unified the urban jewel had been the ultimate aim of any business. If you could say you had a slice of the Coruscanti pie then you knew you had made it. Today, well things were a little different. As scattered as the star systems were, each looking to a different capital for leadershp the galactic market had never been more open before.

Still there was something about the planet, something almost romantic that still drew businesses to the world, there to fight and die for a slice of the pie. Locke and Key Mechanics had always avoided the planet, till now anyway, prefering to secure their grasp on other markets, on the Southern Systems and the territory of the Silver Jedi. still, the demands of business meant you could never sit still, could never stop growing.

Metallic fingers raked through dark har as John turned to stare out of hte window, watching the warren of buildings beneath him fly past. He wasn't going to lie, the offer on the table was...intruiging to say the least, but he didn't want to be drawn until he found out more about his host and his plans. The offer had been enough to get John to the table, but for more, well more required the sales pitch. His fingers idly tapped a beat out on the window, a slow tune to dance to as hooded dark eyes stared out at the city of lights. As they started their descent.

He was here, he would see what their host had to offer. Promising anythign else would have been a lie, and player at this level understood pragmatism and honesty more than lies. You had to work with the people in the room on other projects after all.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“And here we are, Mr Locke.”, the assistant offered him, motioning him through two gilded doors that slid with a quiet regard to their presence.

Inside, Maliphant slowly stood and smiled speaking with confidence that betrayed the sickness that festered beneath the disguise he had dawned -

“Ah, Mr. Locke. Its a pleasure to meet you in person.”, he said, maneuvering around the table to shake the man’s robotic hands, “I hope I do not disappoint, or fall short of your expectations. Come, take a seat.”

With that, Maliphant motioned them both back to the table, as the only two to have entered the room thus far. There was a strength in it, Maliphant knew, and John was one of the larger companies propositioned to join the conglomerate planned - bringing him aboard was important for the success of the endeavor, so he would not short him with any pleasantries.

Maliphant found his own seat at the head of the table and leaned forward, crossing his hands as he looked to John -

“Can we get you wine, water perhaps? Simply ask, and we will provide.”, he said with a quiet regard to John’s comfort.

“I assume the trip to Coruscant wasn’t too rough, Mr. Locke?”

[member="John Locke"]

 

[Dak]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Darth Maliphant"][/SIZE]
​

[SIZE=10pt]This outcome had not been anticipated.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Ever since the prototype DAC had claimed a glimpse of Omni’s seemingly impossible algorithms aboard the Droidforge, Dak’s thirst for knowledge had felt insatiable. He had gained an understanding of concepts previously unknown to him and with them a desire to explore and learn the nature of existence itself, and technology’s place within it. Against all logical possibilities he could consider, Dak had found no other way to explain this paradigm shift other than as “a gift”.

Unaware, he stood only a few meters from where [member="John Locke"] had minutes before, watching the crowded traffic of the airways above and below the city skyline. Coruscant kept the droid’s processors stimulated; kept him thinking. So many forms of constant sensory input and yet there always seemed to be new information to process. Here however, in the lounge outside the conference room[/SIZE], things were still and quiet.

The muffled voices of two men talking were detectable by his auditory sensors, neither of which he recognized personally, but he knew who they would be. The perfect timing of such a relevant potential partnership buffered his probability module any time he attempted to over-analyze it. For all intents and purposes, the automaton felt compelled to rule it under the organic concept of destiny. But he knew better.

It was an opportunity, and regardless of its significance and likelihood, it was a fortunate reality.

 

[Nicademus Blith]

Nicademus was a business man first, he had made his living making weapons of war, and he didn't plan to stop any time soon. War was profitable and war was constant, this galaxy was never lacking in it, it was perhaps the best way to make your fortune. He detested war however, in every meaning of its existence, however he had become accustomed to its inevitability, and more importantly, he realized something. The bets way to end war was to make sure there was no wars to be fought. The simplest way of doing that was to ensure a winner.

Thus he had spent his adult life building weapons, and not just any weapons, but good weapons, weapons designed to be in a class of their own, and he sold them to whoever would buy them, the more these weapons spread, the more unsustainable war would become, the material necessary to sustain the war machine he was creating was nigh insurmountable. That is how he wanted it, he wanted nations unable to afford his weapons to collapse, he wanted nations without raw martial prowess to falter. He wanted one side to win, and that side would be the side most fit to inherit the galaxy.

So when a certain individual came to him with an certain offer, he couldn't exactly refuse. The resources the deal would grant him would make his goal so much more attainable. Money would be of no object, the best technology in the galaxy would be at his fingertips, the greatest minds one phone call away. This was a group that could change wars with nothing more than the price of its equipment.

So here he found himself, sitting in a lobby across from a droid. The droid did not handle himself like most, he had an air of elegance to him, a calculating demeanor that oozed intellect. Some droids were like that, truly sentient, and they were perhaps some of the scariest things you can come across. If one of those droids was his business partner, he had high hopes in the future of this business venture.

[member="Dak"] [member="Darth Maliphant"] [member="John Locke"]

 

[John Locke]

"Just a water please."

John knew that that his body could shrug off the effects of the alchohol, one of the benefits of being as heavily cyberised as he was. Still, the risk of impairment remained, and if there was one thing he knew, it was was to never do business with any kind of risk of being caught out, of loosing the upper hand. Black metallic fingers clasped the offered glass, twirling it around as the cyborg looked around the space before turning his attention to his host. A man of some repute, if you knew the right circles to walk in, to listen to. He'd certainly managed to put on a lavish show so far, and the chairs were certainly comfortable enough to settle into for now.

"You know how it is, one trip's as good as another, it's all just a room to work in, same as any other room."

Although that said, he kept finding things about his room on his yacht that seemed off, out of place. It was a mystery that he hadn't had time to pursue yet...it was probably something he should look into before long though. All those small things that just didn't add up. It took a moment, an effort of pure will for John to wrench his thoughts back to the present, dark eyes resting on his host. It always amazed him that he was here, that he could move in these circles, a far cry from that boy who grew up in the Corellians slums. But still...there were times he wondered if he wasn't more free back then, more...idealistic. He'd always wanted to build the droids, the technology that would help people, that would make their lives easier and help them pull themselves into a better life. Instead here he was today, one of the pre-eminent merchants of death in the galaxy...and he couldn't help but wonder what an 8 year old John would make of him now. Probably nothing good.

A soft sigh escaped him as his head swivelled towards the door,

"I think the rest of your guests are arriving."

[member="Nicademus Blith"] | [member="Dak"] | [member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Tapping his fingers with an almost impatient nature, he looked to the door. Nodding, he spoke slow -

“It would seem they have. Some of them, at least.”, he mused.

---

The door opened to the assistant who had guided John Locke in prior, and she looked between the prototype DAC unit and Nicademius Blith. Jotting something down on her holopad, she motioned them to stand and follow her, turning on a high red heel before speaking -

“Mr. Harper appreciates your timely nature. Another guest has already arrived, and more are set to come - though they appear to be running late.”, she in an almost rushed tone, “You will find your seats, and Mr. Harper will lead this meeting after you are settled. If you require anything; Wine, water, stimulants… Oil-”, she said with some subtle scorn to the droid, “- let me know, and I will have someone bring them to you. Enjoy your day, gentlemen.”

WIth that, she motioned to a second set of doors with the engravings of Jaeger Solutions and Blackwell Industries on each side, inlaid with a type of electrum it seemed. Their movement was silent, and on the other side sat John Locke and ‘Dorian Harper’. Darth Maliphant smiled as he stood to greet them -

“Gentlemen, glad to see you could make it. Mr. Locke, this is the DAC-1.P028 unit representing Cor Automata, and the other gentlemen is Nicademus Blith - CEO of Blith Industries. Gentlemen, as the name implies - this is John Locke, Executive of Locke and Key.”, he chuckled motioning them all to find a seat and get comfy.

“And I, men, am Dorian Harper. CEO and Founder of Blackwell Industries and Jaeger Solutions - one of the largest military corporations in the known galaxy.”

Slowly, as everyone found their seat, he found himself standing over them. A subtle, and somewhat obvious power move - but it was his building they were discussing this in, it was only right he have some status here. He leaned his weight against the desk as he felt his legs threatened to give out, a creeping symptom of his illness - and began to speak.

“Gentlemen, I’m sure you’re curious as to why I brought you here today; and the vague offer of a lucrative business offer in your holonet mail box was hardly the most idealistic approach.”, he laughed, though softly, “No, I simply wanted as minimal of a chance of this getting out as possible.”

He motioned behind him, and a screen came to life - a large symbol on it that seemed vaguely familiar to most, yet wholeheartedly different than it once was.

“I won’t beat around the bush. Gentlemen, I brought you - some of the foremost experts on corporate dealings today - to help reestablish the InterGalactic Banking Clan. With our combined reserves, and the income of our companies - each of us could ensure fiscal control over the Galactic Credit with nigh ruthless efficiency.”, he beamed.

“And the question of investment into our own companies would come with profits and deals with the major players of the Galaxy. As they take loans from us, they will purchase our own goods and pay interest on top of it all. Simply put gentlemen, if we truly take this serious -”

He paused, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to catch his breath.

“- We could become a few of the most powerful members of the galaxy, and the richest by far.”

“Questions?”

[member="John Locke"] │ [member="Nicademus Blith"] │ [member="Dak"]

 

[Dak]

[SIZE=10pt][member="Darth Maliphant"] | [member="John Locke"] | [member="Nicademus Blith"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10pt]The droid raises a hand to silently, though politely, dismiss the offer. He follows the assistant’s guidance and makes his way through the ornate doorway alongside Nicademus, joining the other two in the meeting room. As “Dorian” begins to introduce each of them, he moves to and stands behind a chosen seat at the table and remains standing until Mr. Harper had finished.

“Dak,” the droid corrects simply following the introductions. He places his left hand to his chestplate and looks between each of the other guests “and this unit is the sole founder and Administrator of Core Automata.”

Dak was fortunate to spend most of his time in the company of people who treated him with some semblance of equality, but he had more than enough experience with the galaxy to crush any naivety that that this was common. He did not judge anyone for the assumption; the unit understood that the notion of a droid-founded corporation – more specifically one that dealt in the design and manufacturing of other droids – may be difficult or even frightful for an organic to rationalize.

Ideology aside, Dak was also mindful that it could have been a simple research error. His reputation certainly hadn’t preceded him; Core Automata was still very new, so the fact an invitation had even been considered was enough for him for now. Every other man in this room, however, needn’t an introduction for the DAC. The droid hadn’t met any of them personally, but he was well-versed in the technologies each of their companies were famous for.

Locke & Key Mechanics had been the first company Core Automata contacted to secure contracts for specialized materials. He had also personally commissioned Blith-Tech through back-door channels to develop a specialized variant of their D-TeK. And, of course, there was Jaeger Solutions – whose technology was, in many cases, the foundation of Dak’s prototypes and phase-one concepts.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]But re-establishment of the InterGalactic Banking Clan? This was certainly an unexpected offer.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]With all the suffering the galaxy faced in the near-900 years the droid had been in hibernation, it was no surprise the galactic community never fully healed. Even now, in just the last few years, Dak had already witnessed the rise and fall of multiple interstellar nations. Perhaps the galaxy could benefit from some semblance of the past. Something stable – something universal.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Lacking concern or nerves, the droid takes the initiative to respond first.

“I would like to first state that it is an honour to become acquainted with each of you. I am humbled to be invited for such an opportunity, despite the infancy of Core Automata.”

He gives a short bow of his head.

“Your era is fractured from a devastating history and turbulent present. Among the many issues we face, the localization of economies is one that is within a reasonable margin of control. Currently, localized funds are not valued or regulated at the same standards. It is too easy to defraud regional banking establishments and scam cross-region merchants. I see great potential in the re-establishment of a centralized banking authority. An organized, neutral body mandating the Galactic Economy could revive trust in the value of currency, promote trade among nations, and even open new channels for negotiation and diplomacy instead of constant war.[/SIZE]”

He pauses.

“And to our mutual profit. Core Automata would be willing to provide resources toward this goal.”

 

[Nicademus Blith]

Power, Money, Fame, all were simply means to an end for Nicademus. He had better things to be worried about, bigger goals to seek. He did need Capital, and Fame, but they were simply means to an end, a way to end war as the galaxy knew it. A way to bring the power to the individual, not governments and warlords.

This was a good idea, one that might finally free people from the horrors that the galaxy had wrought upon them. Free to finally be people, to fight for their own justice, not the justice of the nation states which mandated their lives. It might as well be in his hands.

"I can assure that Blith-Tech will support this endeavor with all assets available to it. This will benifit us all, and most likely the galaxy as a whole."