Omega Pyre

[Aeron Kreelan]

Omega Pyre Headquarters
Fondor

Aeron Kreelan had a proposition. One that would require the audience of the Lord Protector himself.

That is why the Icarii stood before the would be Lord Inquisitor -- not that she knew of his dealings -- and began to present her case.

“You know the history behind Omega Star Corp well, sir.” Aeron had already outlined earlier exactly what her intentions were. This was just getting to the nitty gritty of it.

“Omega Pyre was founded on the vast bacta factories on Thyferra, the Fondor Shipyards, and the fields of Abregado-Rae. They were the core worlds for the funding of the Omega Pyre as a Private Military Contractor as a whole.”

Until it got too big -- then it turned into Omega Star Corp.

“The bulk of our funding is drawn up from the original contracts as well as these production facilities. The original title to the company belonged to the late Lady Protector Cira. With her on and off death” -- well there was no reason not to be upfront about it. “ The question on who owns the company and the Pyre in it of itself is up to debate.”

Her lips would thin.

“I want to change that. I want to make it how it was before. The Pyre is not the Protectorate. Never has been. We have kept our business to be a Private Military contractor separate from the governing body in it of itself.”

“I want Omega Star Corp and the Omega Pyre to return back to one company.”

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge had been on the job... a month and a half? He wasn't sure. It was a blur. A huge blur of ephemeral spirits, horribly maintained budgets and a tidal wave of expenditure reports, AARs, and a fleet of other paperwork to sort through. How the Protectorate had kept itself financially afloat through all this was beyond him, but somehow they'd managed it. Hell, he'd finally seen just how much money had been spent to arm him.

He alone was like, 3% of the military budget. That was ridiculous. Not his Inquisition; just him. His ammo. His gear. His pay; all that hazard pay, time in grade and who knew what else was getting real expensive. He'd essentially been getting combat pay since he'd signed up, and it was racking up the credits. By the Force had that floored him. It's funny how he'd just accepted the paychecks for what they were without much thought to the larger picture.

Regardless, benefits themselves had taken a good chunk of change, too. But he'd already figured that one himself; every governments biggest expenditure - if it weren't military - was insurance; health insurance, liability insurance, whatever.

"I've always just considered them one and the same. OmegaPyre. Omega Star Corp. Whatever; same thing so far as I've ever been concerned." There was a pause from the man in the high-speed gear in front of her. He'd recently opted for not wearing his bulky powered gear and moved back to the Pyre gear he'd worn when he'd first started.

High speed, low drag. Fatigues, plate carrier, nothing too heavy or cumbersome. Mobility was key. That had always been the Pyre way of handling business; speed, firepower, superiority.

"Them being one company is certainly a good way to go moving forward. The Pyre has fallen by the wayside the past year or so; out of sight out of mind, I guess. But putting the two back together is a good first step to revitalizing it."

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Aeron would give a curt nod.

“Omega Pyre in it and of itself has worked in conjunction with Omega Star Corp in terms of its armor, arms, and the entire needs of the Protectorate.” The PMC company turned umbrella corporation had all the licences to all the Pyre Tech -- a notion that few ever truly actually realized.

This was the reason why Firemane industries had to get permission from Cira as the owner of Omega Star Corp and the PMC Omega Pyre to be able to sell the bolters and other Pyre tech.

“It will require ensuring that Omega Pyre remain the head title in name, while the rest of the companies facilities remain in place.”

They were talking all of the Pyre’s original assets, properties, deeds, licensing, even the Fondor shipyards were originally and still under the jurisdiction of Omega Pyre. While Aeron was the Prex, Omega Pyre and Omega Star Corp had been run to continue to funnel a cashflow into one and the other.

“The question is… how do we do this when the original owner on the official docs is the Lady Protector herself?”

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"A name change is a name change." He says quietly, needing to dumb this down so it made sense to himself. Corporate anything was a bit beyond him, and had never really been of interest. At least not beyond the cursory wonder of what it would be like to be a CEO. Probably a good bit easier than what he was doing now; no one ever fought galaxy spanning wars with multiple governments because you sold your freighter in the wrong sector of space.

There was a faint pause as Cira was brought up, as there usually was when she became the subject around him.

She always had a way of getting him to shut up when she wasn't around; shame she'd never figured out how to make that work when he was. "I can speak with her, see about getting ownership transferred." He couldn't imagine it would be overly difficult. "Question is do you want it transferred to you or would you rather someone else take over?" He couldn't see her being too sold on being Prex again, but stranger things had happened.

Normally he'd not ask such a question, but he'd almost never dealt with Aeron so he couldn't say he was too familiar with her thought processes.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Well, if there was one thing Aeron is, was blunt.

Perhaps a bit too blunt, but some could appreciate what truth she said. Some, being the key word. And considering just who she was talking to, she figured taking a care on tact would be good.

But then again, tact wasn't a key feature for anyone for the Pyre.

A faint grimace came to the Icarii,"Sir, the Lady has had one too many flights to the Void and back to have a say in how the Pyre runs."

Meaning, while the former Lady Protector had some merit, there was no trust that she'd say where she was supposed to.

Or that she'll be who she once was.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

This time, Sarge did something she'd likely not expect. He smiled. A genuine smile that lifted his eyes ever so slightly at their corners. "Who said I was giving her an actual say? This is about being accountable. I wouldn't walk into CEC headquarters and just drop someone knew into the Big Chair and go 'this is yours' now without first consulting the person in charge to let them know they're out."

But the smile didn't last long before his lips thinned. "Besides, this isn't about whether or not her head is on straight. I can worry about that. This is about making sure I cover my bases. Too often have I seen this galaxy get flipped over because person A didn't talk to person B before getting person C involved. No. At the very least I can inform her of the change, and at best she can tell me how to properly get it transferred.

I'd feel more comfortable with everyone being in the loop than out of it."

There came a faint skyward lift of his eyes to go with a raised brow. "Not that you can transfer company ownership on a whim, anyway. Legally I can't think of a worse decision to make."

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

A smirk this time broke the Icarii's face.

Well, they had an understanding. "I can take care of the Pyre. Have been all this time anyways. I just want to make sure all the Isks are dotted and the Trills crossed."

"Are we talking the entirety of the Corp to be once again given to the Pyre to oversee?" this had to be specific and worked through with a fine tooth comb. We were talking the various industries as well as the original rights to the shipyards brought in by the Pyre themselves.

Granted, they had lawyers a plenty to look at the fine print, but she needed to know what was part of it.

There was never a CEO with the Pyre -- it was always the Prex. As it had been Cira's title before.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I always imagined the Corp was under the Umbrella of the Pyre. The Pyre was the main body, providing the service that was necessary and then, in order to properly support itself, it maintained control over the subsidiaries." After all, it's cheaper to run a PMC that makes its own powerpacks, tank shells and dropships while providing its own medical supplies. "But yes, all of Star Corp will be given over. I can't see much of a use for a military contractor to own one of the most profitable caf chains in the galaxy other than, well, profit, but it'll be easier to not shake things up too much."

With the galaxy the way it was, deconstructing the entire Star Corp into component entitites that had previously worked together to feed the larger fish seemed and ill-advised idea. Especially now that Corellia had ceased to exist.

And just like that, a glaze settled over the man's eyes as he leaned forward, arms crossed on the desk top. Mental checkout commenced.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

"Then I'll oversee the Pyre." Aeron said bluntly. Well, not like she hadn't already been doing jobs for the Pyre from Sanctum on over to the Mando Territories.

"The Protectorate owes its roots to the Pyre... but they were never one in the same once the government came out of it. We held that distinct difference ever since."

"I'm guessing with this comes the hard work of actually getting a tally on inventory and just what Star Corp has on the Pyre." that was going to be a doozy. In the wake of the Nine hells opening up to swallow them whole, it was going to be some work to get everything into place.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

There was a pause and then the man shook his head, mind filtering through her words and feeding them to him piece by piece so he was better able to process what was going on. Being spaced out regularly meant he'd learned how to listen without listening. "Yes, you've been quiet different since. And if you wish to stay in charge that's more than fine." There was a nod of his head as he pulled out a datapad and began going through a few things.

"Yes, essentially. I can't imagine there's anything you don't already know. But I always found it odd the Pyre wasn't in control of the shipyards."

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Aeron would frown at that. "It has never been a thought. The Pyre originally owned the shipyards -- but it has never been an issue before."

Aeron's blue gaze would probe the Lord Protector.

"Fondor has always been the Headquarters and the shipyard for the Pyre. And once the Protectorate came in, also for it as well."

Her gaze went narrowing.

"What are your thoughts?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"The only thing I've ever seen Fondor Shipyards build are Protectorate - and more aptly Pyre - vessels. I always wondered why they weren't listed under the owned properties of Omega Star Corp. At this point it's ours because possession is supposedly nine tenths of the law. But otherwise there's little to back that claim other than them churning out our war machine like a candy dispenser."

A hand rose to scratch at his head. "But with the government and Pyre seperate, what happens should the Protectorate fold? I've often wondered what would happen should the One Sith succeed in battering down the door of Fondor. Who would keep churning out the Pyre products then? The Pyre hasn't really engaged in too much against the One Sith. Much of its contracts were carried out against the former Sith Empire. Who knows. It's a pipe dream, but I've always held the hope that if the Protectorate should fall that Fondor would keep pumping out ships for the Pyre.

If only to keep the wheels of economy moving.

I imagine they'd have a more secure future in Pyre hands than Protectorate. Companies routinely slip through the cracks. Governments never do."

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

"Are you proposing that Fondor Shipyards come under the full jurisdiction of Omega Pyre?" now that was a doozy to consider. But if Fondor shipyards were to come under the Pyre...

Well that made for some interesting methods of cash flow. It meant it would now be privatized. There was the valid point that Fonder Shipyards had originally been the Pyre's to begin with under Cira's management and control.

Everything had been nationalized under the Private Military Contractor. There came in that dawning revelation; that even the shipyards were not of the Protectorate.

But of the Pyre.

"Who officially owns them on filmsiplast?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge furrowed his brow, tilting his head before furiously typing away at the datapad. It was several long moments of blurred fingers before he looked back up at her and shrugged. "I uh, can't find anything. There's obviously someone because how else could they roll out these new ships at a moments notice but... it's buried a little." There was an exhalation as he busied himself further.

It wasn't the Protectorate, nor was it the Pyre. When it had been nationalized it hadn't... been nationalized?

"Hrrmmmm...."

This was... different.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Aeron caught that furrow of his brow.

She took a step forward, interest in her blue eyes. The Icarii was naturally curious, more so when the brawn of the Lord Protector would shift as he would murmur a noise of contemplation.

To be frank, she wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

None the less, she figured she was going to find out anyways.

"What is it, Sir?"

She was far more used to calling him by a rank or 'sir' than Lord Protector.

That just felt weird.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Whoever is in charge of it, legally, isn't in charge of it. From what I can access from here - which, admittedly, is limited - there's no legal owner. Or, at least no openly registered owner." He shrugged. "A Net search might get us a CEO page or something but I'll need to get a thorough documents check before I commit to anything one way or another. Good ol' Legal will have a field day with this."

Setting down the datapad he rubs at his brow, a bit perplexed by what this was.

Searching was his thing.

But searching for people, not documents.

That had always been Ayden's thing.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

"Well.. in the meantime, legal can take care of Star Corp and the Pyre." who knew how long this search on the actual shipyards would go?

Either way, the focus was on making sure that the Pyre had back what it originally had and had been using as it's primary cash flow beyond the contracts of Mercenaries and Fugitive recovery work.

"How long do you figure the paper pushing will take?" she would ask.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"A week, give or take. Plenty of time to get the help running legwork across Fondor to scour every last basement that once housed the uncle of a records keeper." He set down the datapad and tapped a finger on the desk. Thank the stars he'd gotten rid of that horrid Throne that HK had put into the office. What a joke. "In the meantime, I'll talk to Cira. Maybe she knows something we don't."

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

Aeron would give another curt nod. Then that would be to it. A faint half grimace of a smile would inch over her mouth; likely her attempt at being somewhat tactful and courteous.

"Then let us hope that the Lady will do what must be done." if anything was left of what the Lady Protector once was, it would shine through to realize the importance of such a matter.

"Thank you for your time, Sir," Aeron would add in next.

"Once more information on the shipyards comes to the surface, perhaps we can elaborate on the situation for Fondor Shipyards."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Mountains of paperwork paled in comparison to the heights of the anxiety coursing through his veins. Rarely was the Lord Protector set on edge. Sith? No problem. Vong? They got his blood pumping for murder, a thick rage pulsing in his ears. But little left him feeling disarmed, out of control. But here he stood, behind parked against the edge of the desk his aide used while keeping people out of the office.

If he were able to stare holes in a floor, he would be doing so just now, black eyes boring through the reinforced decking with furrowed brow and pensive stare. A cloud of bluish smoke curled in gentle eddies around his head, the air conditioner pumping cool air through the haze surrounding him. It's how he knew he was stressed. He almost never smoked. A cigar a year, maybe.

But the past few weeks had been almost nonstop. A few a day. It wasn't really healthy.

But he couldn't stop. Well, he could. He chose not to.

His life was finally confusing him. What he wanted was within his reach, but he'd never planned for that contingency. Realistically he'd never expected to get his hands on the prize, and so had never thought that far ahead. That startled him.

More aptly, it scared him. Distraction was also a side product of this mental disaster.

Which meant he'd taken a long time getting back to [member="Aeron Kreelan"], but she'd finally get her answer as he studied the message on his datapad.

As ever, there was little to no formality in it. Not even an attempt at proper comm etiquette.

>....Message begins

Paperwork re-filed. Stupid rapture. Shipyards still under our control. Rebels don't hold a candle to our nationalization of production, apparently.

>....Message ends.