Even in Business You Have to Seek Justice

[Krayn]

It was time to expand.

Fortris had done well in establishing a small following within Alliance Space, projects that were manageable and profitable becoming a constant fixture amongst his time schedule, but he also realised that for true potential Cerberus would have to look outside of the Sullust controlled borders and into the galaxy as a hold.

Word had come to him of a planet and it’s business mongol king who was seeking construction contracts in order to improve upon the infrastructure already in place, it seemed like a simple job, but there was more to it. The potential client, a certain [member="James Justice"] was also the owner of a mining company, one thing that Fortris was in desperate need of sourcing.

So yet again the Cerberus Corporation saw travel expenses be put aside for Fortris’ departure and the comforts of home was left behind for the hard-working corporate mind. He had managed to talk a small team of his managing staff to come along with him, purely for their knowledge of architectural means so that any agreement could be followed up with planning and eventual construction quickly.

This was one chance he as a Sonn couldn’t afford to blow.

 

[James Justice]

Dal'Bor. The City of Vice. The Heart of Soceras. The City of Sin. Just a few nick names that James' gorgeous opulent city of pure debauchery had earned.

Business had been good, he was their Crime Lord, their King. For the first time in hundreds of years, the city's crime rates were in the single digits, instead of over near the seventies. The Lowest class for once was walking around in clothes less thread bare. A working police had been created. A medical community. A university had been restored.

So many things that civilized worlds took for granted, he had built with his own hands.

His own will.

His own hard earned money.

And he was damn proud of it.

But the city needed to look less like a dump and more like the gorgeous jewel he saw it for. Sure there were parts that were not so bad; the modern suburbs, the Angel's Den, the factories, the business district but--the slums, the Red District, the darker tenament homes--those had to be rebuilt. The squallor was to go. It was time for a new age to rise.

The spacer turned on his heel from overlooking his city, grabbing a cigarette and a bottle of ale.

"Mr Justice," said a Twe'lik with an exotic accent. She was a recently released slave, a former dancing girl, one who was serving as his secretary for the day. "Your appointment arrive."

The spacer took a puff from his cigar, "Bring the man into my lounge."

[member="Fortris Sonn"]

 

[Krayn]

Dal’bor was exactly as he had been told it was en-route.
Flashes of wealth and poverty all mixed in a menagerie of collective wonder and coexistence. It had a reputation as such as well, a place where one could make or break the rest of their lives depending on row the chance cubes fell. Much like the world of business, except there the chance was taken beyond the tables of luck, instead it moved on the chance waves of negotiation and most of all; credits.

Fortris remembered that well. Credits made the galaxy spin and it was up to him to assure that he had as many credits at his disposal as he could in order to make this galaxy spin the right way for as many people as it could. It was his motto in life, to always assure the wealth to insure the lives. A trait he would take into heavy practice today.

The Twi’lekk he was greeted with was a pretty little thing, heavily accented and almost flirty in her nature. Ex-dancer perhaps? Fortris reminded himself to ask on the way out, but for now he was more concerned with the present of being led into a spectacular lounge that just screamed comfort.

On the far side of the room a man was positioned, cigar in hand with a sense of importance around him, be it subconscious or not the effect was there and all to apparent for Fortris.
“Mr Justice I presume?” A hand was extended in greeting. “Fortris Sonn, of Cerberus. It is a pleasure.”

[member="James Justice"]
[Srry for the late reply.]

 

[James Justice]

The crime lord took the hand in a firm, strong shake. The callouses from his years working from the bottom of the smuggling industry to here could be felt.

"Aye, James," he said with a winsome smile. "That be me. Good to meet ye."

The crime lord poured two glasses of rich Corellian ale, offering one to his guest. James took a sip of the other, savoring the complex flavor.

"Me dad loved the stuff," James said, looking at the glass. "I grew up on his tramp freighter, hoping from bar to bar as we haulled freight," James leaned back against the wet bar, "Smugglers we were. One thing me dad always loved to tell me that when ye find a good city, never let it go."

He waved to the window, "This is a good city. She's got some broken windows, a few bad paintjobs but she got good roots. And I want the worlds to see her the way I do." He let the thought sink in as he finished off his glass. "I were told ye could help me do that."

[member="Fortris Sonn"]
[no worries mate]

 

[Krayn]

His handshake was a business shake, one of those usually done by men long in their prime and with many years of scrubbing off the blood and dirt. The Cerberus CEO respected that, he respected it a lot.

He tried to not seem to enthusiastic when offered the glass off Corellian Ale, it wouldn’t be polite to be seen begging for the drink. He wasn’t going to refuse it though, not stuff of that premium. Ever since the breaking the heavy amber liquid had become a diamond find, usually followed by the breaking of bank accounts.

“I won’t pretend to relate.” Fortris enjoyed the first sip of the ale, it was magnificent full of rich smokey goodness that filled every sense. “My father was a business man, as was my brother and while I did do a fair amount of tramping before my studies it was only as a couple of escape years.” He gave a small grin. “However I do understand the appeal of a good city.”

He looked out at the landscape presented by James. His eyes taking in everything from the tall rising structures long past their intended purpose. It had a strange appeal to it, almost like that heirloom you never really wanted but refused to give up. He saw huge potential just from his gaze across the horizon, Cerberus could do great things here.

“Yes we can help.” He took another sip of the ale. “Cerberus would be happy to contract to any commission you seek. In fact i’d be interested to know if you would be interested in us field testing our new Cerberus Construction Shuttle in order to establish some smaller communities on the outskirts of the city as well. We have had the ships commissioned already, we just need to see them in practice. Entire settlements capable of housing over a hundred set up in less then forty standard hours.” It was a long shot, but any potential field test was worth the question. “Within the city limits however we will go over some prototypes and see what sort of infrastructure would best fit your needs.”

Fortris took another sip and gave James a look. “I’ve also heard you have access to a mining company?”

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

James listened to the offer, nursing the glass in his hand. Cooling beads of sweat began to slide off the surface and whet his free hand's fingers. He looked out the window and thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"I'll halt ye right there," he said. He looked back at Fortis, "I do like the idea of working on the city, if ye are testing out a few new ideas, I think that is alright. A good idea, and as long as the people of me city are safe, I will be alright with that. But I know ye ain't some teen with a shovel and thermal tape so I am sure ye won't go around putting me people in danger."

He leaned in closer, scratching the bridge of his nose, "Those insta-houses, though, I am afraid that wun't do. We are planning on reserving the outskirts for more suburban development and farming. So I ain't able to do that. But, I do know of a few places that can use them."

James moved over to a holoprojector on a sidetable next one of the couches. At the tap of his finger, an image of Soceras lit up, marked in the center of the northern eastern hemisphere was Dal'Bor. The spacer tapped on a small town indicated by a yellow dot on the surface, not too far from Dal'Bor.

'This is Second Chances,' James explained, 'its a small town I made for slaves we rescue on runs. We have a few factories there that they help run, a college, a few other minor sorts of things, for most accounts. We try to give them a new life, not just poverty," he explained, "But with the recent wars, the refugees we are getting is overloading the housing. Can ye set em up there?"

He would cover the mining company next, to James, first he needed his housing details ironed out.

[member="Fortris Sonn"]