Rusty
Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
A posh hotel in one of the nicer parts of Breehara. That's where Koko found herself, waiting to meet with representatives from Battlewell Security and Arms.
As practically the only employee of RCFC with any experience with negotiation, the Shard woman found herself in these types of places more and more often. She didn't mind overmuch. The chance to dip into her frankly ridiculous expense account was always welcome. Her boss knew next to nothing about the finer points of running a business. All he knew was that she saved him untold credits each year by taking on a frankly startling workload.
Koko served as everything from RCFC's legal expert to accountant to interior designer. Her well manicured fingers were in literally every portion of the business save for the actual design and production of weapons, and by herself, she accomplished what any normal corporation would need several teams to get done. And not only did she do the work, she did it well.
Rusty had no problem with dumping a significant portion of those savings in an expense account for his assistant. And Koko had no problem spending that money, just so long as she could make sure it was at least tangentially related to business.
First class travel to a variety of the galaxy's best destinations? Check. Luxury accommodations for business meetings? Check. Wardrobe full of exquisitely tailored outfits for nearly every situation? Check.
And the best part is, even with her expensive tastes, it took serious effort to so much as scratch the surface of the account. She saved the company that much.
Honestly, she was kicking herself for not hitching herself to a business run by a Shard decades ago. They were ruthlessly pragmatic, but the flip side of that was, they respected results. And Rusty was no exception. So long as Koko continued to perform, he gave not one flying kark how she did it. It was great.
Today's business meeting was with an executive from a mercenary company cum slash arms dealer for some new and exciting bits of hardware. Rusty had made it clear that they were getting cut a deal: steep discounts, and in return, they'd give feedback on the weapons systems so the next generation could be improved upon. Other than that, the details were up to her.
Meeting with mercenaries was always a tricky proposition. She found that many of them tended to view excessive femininity as a weakness. It was annoying, but she had found ways to work around it. Koko wore a charcoal grey business suit of a style normally favored by men. The only concessions for her gender were in the bust and hips, where the cut was slightly different.
Her chassis for the day was her usual HRD. She'd been using this particular body for the better part of a decade. It was slender, with chalk white skin and hair to match. The eyes were pale blue, with a distinctive almond shape that lent them an exotic air. The facial features had been built around classic notions of beauty: high cheekbones, small chin, pert nose and full lips. The pigmentation was a factory defect; she had been able to pick it up for practically nothing, and they had even modified it to accept a Shard. Now that she was working for RCFC, she could afford a better one, but this chassis was a reminder of where she came from, and besides, she was used to it.
She waited for the Battlewell representative in a lavishly furnished conference room. The room was dominated by a massive Endorian oak table, made from a single massive slab of wood and polished to a mirror sheen. The obligatory rolling chairs were comfortable and plush, covered with soft nerf hide and padded with memory foam. A small wet bar in the corner would help them ward off the dangers of dehydration and sobriety. It was, of course, stocked with an excellent selection of wines and liquors, and the droid bartender could mix drinks to accommodate nearly any taste and metabolism.
It should be a productive meeting.
[member="KeCholo"]
As practically the only employee of RCFC with any experience with negotiation, the Shard woman found herself in these types of places more and more often. She didn't mind overmuch. The chance to dip into her frankly ridiculous expense account was always welcome. Her boss knew next to nothing about the finer points of running a business. All he knew was that she saved him untold credits each year by taking on a frankly startling workload.
Koko served as everything from RCFC's legal expert to accountant to interior designer. Her well manicured fingers were in literally every portion of the business save for the actual design and production of weapons, and by herself, she accomplished what any normal corporation would need several teams to get done. And not only did she do the work, she did it well.
Rusty had no problem with dumping a significant portion of those savings in an expense account for his assistant. And Koko had no problem spending that money, just so long as she could make sure it was at least tangentially related to business.
First class travel to a variety of the galaxy's best destinations? Check. Luxury accommodations for business meetings? Check. Wardrobe full of exquisitely tailored outfits for nearly every situation? Check.
And the best part is, even with her expensive tastes, it took serious effort to so much as scratch the surface of the account. She saved the company that much.
Honestly, she was kicking herself for not hitching herself to a business run by a Shard decades ago. They were ruthlessly pragmatic, but the flip side of that was, they respected results. And Rusty was no exception. So long as Koko continued to perform, he gave not one flying kark how she did it. It was great.
Today's business meeting was with an executive from a mercenary company cum slash arms dealer for some new and exciting bits of hardware. Rusty had made it clear that they were getting cut a deal: steep discounts, and in return, they'd give feedback on the weapons systems so the next generation could be improved upon. Other than that, the details were up to her.
Meeting with mercenaries was always a tricky proposition. She found that many of them tended to view excessive femininity as a weakness. It was annoying, but she had found ways to work around it. Koko wore a charcoal grey business suit of a style normally favored by men. The only concessions for her gender were in the bust and hips, where the cut was slightly different.
Her chassis for the day was her usual HRD. She'd been using this particular body for the better part of a decade. It was slender, with chalk white skin and hair to match. The eyes were pale blue, with a distinctive almond shape that lent them an exotic air. The facial features had been built around classic notions of beauty: high cheekbones, small chin, pert nose and full lips. The pigmentation was a factory defect; she had been able to pick it up for practically nothing, and they had even modified it to accept a Shard. Now that she was working for RCFC, she could afford a better one, but this chassis was a reminder of where she came from, and besides, she was used to it.
She waited for the Battlewell representative in a lavishly furnished conference room. The room was dominated by a massive Endorian oak table, made from a single massive slab of wood and polished to a mirror sheen. The obligatory rolling chairs were comfortable and plush, covered with soft nerf hide and padded with memory foam. A small wet bar in the corner would help them ward off the dangers of dehydration and sobriety. It was, of course, stocked with an excellent selection of wines and liquors, and the droid bartender could mix drinks to accommodate nearly any taste and metabolism.
It should be a productive meeting.
[member="KeCholo"]
