Private Mecetti Money

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

Politicians were a tricky sort. Tycho Vale found that to be doubly so when the politician in question was also a businessman. It seemed, however, that on Obulette, politics and business were inextricably intertwined. A nationalized economy seemed, to him, to be a surefire way of mixing the worst qualities of the state and the corporation, but there was no doubt that Obulette was making it work.

Or making it look like they were making it work.

As the CEO of ValeCorp took the turbolift up to the Senator's office, he adjusted the strap on his courier bag. Talking to a planetary governor or a system administrator was one thing, but sharing words with a member of the Galactic Senate was something else entirely. It was an entirely different game... and one that he had to make sure he won. His crimson eyes closed for a moment as the turbolift began to slow down, and he took a few deep, calming breaths.

The lift finally came to a complete stop, and the sliding door opened before him. Confidently, Tycho Vale strode into the office of Maldor Mecetti.

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

​

It was late afternoon on Coruscant, and Maldor Mecetti was about to receive his final guest of the day.

The life of a Galactic Alliance Senator was always filled with supplicants demanding this, or begging for that. One could not attain power without having people scrabbling at the bottom of your cape, demanding support for their ploys or dripping from your table. As a noble of Obulette's ruling family, Maldor was used to such things. But he did not particularly enjoy them.

Business was another matter, entirely.

In business, there was some fencing for power, but the best deals enriched everyone involved to some degree. With the exception of hostile economic action, business was one of those few places in life where everyone could win. Some more than others, of course.

And so, Maldor was looking forward to this meeting more than most.

Presently, his receptionist droid made an announcement via his desk intercom.

"Chief Executive Vale is here to see you, Sir."

Maldor reached out and touched the intercom button.

"Show him in."

Maldor kept his seat at his desk for two full beats after Tycho entered his office. Only then did he stand, having established a baseline for their relative power and importance.

"Mr. Vale. A pleasure. Can I make you a drink?"

He gestured to his extensive liquor cabinet as he moved over to it.

Now, having asserted his superiority, he could be gracious and serve his guest with his own hand.



Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

Faced with Senator Mecetti for the first time, the very first thing he noticed was the man's propensity to posture. It wasn't a new phenomenon by any means; Tycho had been in similar situations before with other business professionals and state officials. Mecetti, like the rest of them, was keeping him waiting. Even a two-second wait was enough to get the message across-- that Maldor Mecetti's time was important, and his own was not.

A small, patient smile creased the lines of age in Tycho Vale's cheeks. He could turn the other cheek when it came to petty posturing. In fact, it offered him an advantage; it told him that the Senator didn't expect to be outwitted by the simple businessman from Dantooine. That was a card he could play on, easily.

"Senator Mecetti, you are a lifesaver," Tycho sighed, allowing relief to pour over his face. "I've been walking back and forth across the high levels all day. I'm parched. Why don't you show me the best vintage that House Mecetti has to offer?"

He noticed that the Senator made no move to shake his hand. Another little sign of superiority. The Chiss moved over to take a seat on one of the empty chairs before the man's desk, shifting slightly; the chair was uncomfortable, almost like it was designed to be so. He wouldn't be surprised.

"Let's drink first, huh?" Tycho suggested. Normally, he'd get straight to business, but giving Mecetti a false impression of a laid-back, thoughtless CEO was more important. "In fact, why don't we make a toast?"

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

Maldor hesitated only briefly before selecting a bottle of Ne'tra gal, an exquisite Mandalorian liquor whose value had shot up considerably since the recent increase of... tensions... with the Enclave. It had been transformed from a moderately expensive drink to a priceless one overnight as the usual trade restrictions had come into effect.

"I come from a densely populated world, but even I was unprepared for the reality of a planetary city with five-thousand, one-hundred, and twenty-seven levels. Even the top hundred or so, which can see the light, are a maze. And the routes between buildings are constantly shifting as new construction rolls out.

It's not just the distance between places, but also the convoluted routes that must be taken. A half-kilometer walked to get to a place a hundred meters away. I think I could live here ten years and still be mystified by the complexity. I take personal transport everywhere I can, even to neighboring buildings, just because the droid pilots know their way around."

He poured the Ne'tra gal out into two glasses and then moved to his guest, handing him one.

"To a mutually beneficial arrangement," he suggested, holding his drink aloft.

Such should be the guiding prayer of all business transactions, Maldor thought.



Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

Tycho listened quietly to the Senator's explanation. He wasn't entirely in disagreement-- Coruscant was a mysterious place, one level layered over another, a living history of the planet's colonization. Beyond the upper levels, most of it became horribly mismatched and slapped together. But one thing Tycho did disagree on was the idea of taking droid transportation everywhere.

He prized his independence and his freedom to navigate the environment. The Chiss expected that Senator Mecetti missed out on many of the minor details of living on Coruscant. That kind of willing ignorance could be exploited. He made a quiet note of it.

He nodded firmly as he took the glass, clinking it against the Senator's. "To House Mecetti... and to ValeCorp," Tycho proposed. He took a quick gulp from the glass, the contents of which stung his sinuses and scalded his tongue. Spicy liquor. Mandalorian Ne'tra gal, no doubt. At the very least, he could say that Senator Mecetti spared no expense.

Tycho's hand lowered as he idly swirled the glass, watching the contents within spin and twist. Finally, his crimson eyes returned to the Senator. "I'll cut to the chase, Senator," he began. "As we both know, war is at the Alliance's doorstep. Obulette and its people are in danger. I know that must trouble you greatly. It troubles me. I believe that ValeCorp can help your people weather the storm."

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

Maldor relaxed into his chair and took his own sip of the beverage.

He did not enjoy alcohol. The taste of it, in its many forms, was offensive to him. But he drank it frequently. It was a social expectation, and if there was anything a child of nobility understood, it was social expectations.

He didn't always meet those expectations, but he tried to understand them well enough to know when he was snubbing them.

He suppressed a smile as Mr. Vale made his pitch.

In truth, the current war did trouble him. Not because he thought the Mandalorians could conquer the Alliance. They didn't have the personnel, and their training regimens were so extensive that recruitment moved at a snail's pace. It took a lifetime to become a Mandalorian warrior. It took only eight weeks for the Alliance to churn out another army trooper. And there were many trillions of Alliance citizens from which to recruit. The Alliance could summon up an army of millions in the course of a season.

No... the Mandalorians could never present a serious danger to Alliance sovereignty.

But in trying to dissuade the Alliance, strikes on commerce and production were likely to continue. The Obulette shipyards would hardly be immune to such action. The Enclave had already proven they were willing to strike deep within Alliance borders.

"The Mecetti House Guard pride themselves on being able defenders of the Mecetti Province, including the Throne World of Obulette," Maldor said, "But it is true that the Enclave presents a type of danger seldom endured so close to the Core. So... how can ValeCorp help us in these troubled waters, Mr. Vale?"

Maldor waited with interest to see what this Chiss thought he could offer to tip the scales against so dangerous an entity as the Enclave.


Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

"But it is true that the Enclave presents a type of danger seldom endured so close to the Core. So... how can ValeCorp help us in these troubled waters, Mr. Vale?"

"The Mecetti Province is fortunate to have so many willing and able to defend it," Tycho agreed. Reaching down, he lifted his courier bag from over his shoulder, unclasping the golden buckles that held it closed. "But even the best training and esprit de corps can't heal a burn, or repair a broken limb. Only medicine can do that, Senator Mecetti. Good medicine. And that's exactly what I aim to provide."

Opening the bag, Tycho took his time as he carefully and precisely laid out his sample equipment on the edge of the Senator's very nice, very large, very expensive desk. Canisters of bacta, a scale model of a high-tech bacta tank with auto-doc capabilities, multiple sizes of what appeared to be hybrid bandage-blister packs, and finally, a small holographic projector that slowly flickered to life.

"We've created a new, patented variant of bacta that can cut healing time down by twenty percent," he explained, gesturing to the canisters. His hand moved to the little tank. "That, in combination with a tank that can perform automated surgery, means less downtime for the House Guard and more soldiers on the battlefield. In fact, some wounds may not require leaving the battlefield at all. That's what these babies are for."

He patted the blister packs affectionately, as if they were pets. "Auto-sealing bandages. You slap the blue side down, pull the tab, and it creates a watertight, antiseptic seal around the wound, as well as saturating the area with local anaesthetic. Lets a soldier keep fighting until they can get to a proper medic."

And now... the piece de resistance.

"But let's say something awful happens to one of your soldiers, and they lose a limb in the line of duty," Tycho sighed. "It's not pretty. I've patched up more men like that then I care to count. But it's not the end. Not only can we provide high quality artificial limbs to your soldiers... we can do it in serious style."

An image flickered into view over the holoprojector: an elegant yet sturdy mechanical arm, draped in the liveries and colors of House Mecetti herself.

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

Maldor's eyes widened somewhat.

He'd expected a pitch about combat enhancements. But this was... well, it was good, actually.

House Mecetti had no serious in-house supply of medical products. They imported a great deal in that field. But they were also competing with everyone else in the galaxy. That meant their mouths were often last at the trough during times of conflict between nation states. Although the House would never admit it publicly, that meant that during wartime, the medical care they could offer was often... mediocre.

"Hmm," Maldor said, trying not to seem as impressed as he was. "We already have much of this sort of thing, of course..."

He shrugged, "I suppose you're marketing this as premium pharmacology at premium prices."

Of course, a mere inquiry about price betrayed his interest.


Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

The Senator's attempts to keep his interest cloaked were good. Like most politicians, he was skilled in the art of the sabacc face. Unfortunately, his aloof demeanor was belied by his immediate inquiry on price. A pleasant, knowing smile creased his lips as Tycho reached over to the glass he had set down, taking one more sip of the Senator's extremely expensive liquor.

He knew, of course, about House Mecetti's struggles with consistent medical supply. Tycho wouldn't have been here otherwise. Keeping an ear to the ground about that sort of thing paid dividends.

"That's not how we do business at ValeCorp, Senator," the Chiss answered. "I always try to orchestrate deals that are mutually beneficial. I know you're of the same mind. So..."

He once again gestured to everything on the table with one sweeping movement of his hand. "You can have all of this and more for wholesale pricing. Below standard MSRP. My only catch is that it's an exclusive contract. Go anywhere else, and the deal's off. House Mecetti gets a dependable source of high-quality medical supplies, and ValeCorp gets a consistent, quarterly source of revenue. Everyone wins."

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

Maldor looked at the Chiss sitting across from him.

Sometimes he envied those red eyes. It was harder to see intention in those bloody pools.

Maldor's own eyes were especially expressive. A curse, in his line of work.

"That sounds like a reasonable offer," Maldor said, "but you'll forgive me for pointing out that your company is... smaller... than those we usually do business with. The Mecetti province is more than just Obulette.

We have Tanda, Blyte, Javis, Lastelle, and eleven other systems in our domain. If we make you our exclusive supplier for medical goods, we place ourselves at your mercy.

When war spreads across my sector, how do I know you'll be able to keep up with demand?

I would not want to embrace rock bottom prices only to find myself tethered to an anchor at the bottom of the deep blue sea. If we make you our exclusive supplier, I will need assurances that we get priority pick of all production until our needs are met."

The promise Maldor was asking for meant nothing on its face. A salesman- even a CEO salesman- might promise anything. But if the Tycho made such a promise and failed to keep it, then it would give House Mecetti a way out of the contract. Legally.


Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

It was yet another line of questioning that Tycho had come prepared for.

His blue hand swiped over the holoprojector, switching over to the next slide. The shimmering image of a mechanical prosthetic was instead replaced by a pie graph, demonstrating the market shares of every medical company in the galaxy. ValeCorp was just one small slice among massive chunks representing industry leaders.

"You're correct, of course, that we're a smaller company by market share. I'm sure you've seen this data already, Senator. After all, you're a man who does his research," Tycho replied.

"However... I have to correct you. Yes, we are smaller by market share. But figures for production capacity tell an entirely different story."

Another gesture replaced the pie graph with a bar graph. In this, ValeCorp fared far better, at fourth place. Not the largest, but more than enough to supply all fifteen systems without making a sizable dent.

"So," Tycho concluded, folding his hands together, "is there anything else I can do to assure you?"

 

[Maldor Mecetti]

Maldor's gaze shifted between the display and the Chiss' deep red eyes.

It was a galactic injustice that this man wasn't in House Mecetti employ.

But it was a gift that the man trafficked in medicines, and not war machines.

"Well... I do not believe in arguing myself out of a deal.

I'll sign on, for a two year period under these terms, with a re-evaluation and optional renewal at that time.

But I will need it in writing that House Mecetti gets first pick of production. If you have the production capacity to serve all your clients, good. We won't be hurting any of your other deliverables."

Maldor held out his hand.

"Do Chiss 'Shake on it?' I am not familiar with your culture."

It was the attitude of a noble who'd never needed to bother learning about anyone's culture but his own.

Yet, unlike before, this was not an attempt to establish relative importance. Tycho Vale had earned Maldor's respect. He was competent, and there was little else that could impress the heir to House Mecetti.

He simply did not know.




Tycho Vale

 

[Tycho Vale]

Tagging: Maldor Mecetti

Two years was a reasonable enough time frame, he had to give the Senator that. When it came to war, you could never be entirely certain just how long it would take. He didn't expect the Galactic Alliance to lose this one-- they were far too big, and the Enclave far too small-- but it was impossible to tell whether both sides would reach an armistice in that time, or whether this was going to be a drawn-out, bloody-knuckled brawl to the end. He was hoping for the former, but the cynical side of him knew better than to expect it.

"Do Chiss 'Shake on it?' I am not familiar with your culture."

"I'm sure some Chiss do, and some Chiss don't," Tycho replied amicably. Maldor's assumption that all Chiss were alike was questionable, but he couldn't entirely blame him for it. He knew that his mother's people tended to be quite insular.

"But on Dantooine, we shake on it."

Tycho reached out, taking the senator's hand and firmly shaking it. A moment later, he reached out to finish the glass of Mandalorian liquor in one large gulp, then raised the glass appreciatively before setting it down. Already, he was beginning to pack up his things, carefully removing them from the senator's desk.

"I'll have my legal department send over the contract as soon as I get back to Dantooine," the Chiss explained. "It'll include provisions for first-pick priority and supply line guarantees. I look forward to working with you and House Mecetti, senator."