Friends Part 5
Friends in Need - Part 1
This wasn’t how her career was supposed to go…
Down the deep corridors of the Imperial High Command Administration Centre on Coruscant, past the bright blue lit front desk of the general staff, a small corner office, empty as it was quiet, a handful of bored civilian staff to assist her in fulfilling the functions of the Resources’ Recovery and Remediation department.
Junk sellers, Colonel Sala noted was a far more appropriate title. After every major engagement there was always a jumble of wrecks and ruins which could be collected and recycled, her role was to negotiate contract with civilian firms that carried out such business, ensuring that orbits were cleared swiftly and the Empire got a reasonable return for the detritus. Mopping up on a grand scale.
Even her computer was recycled, it looked almost as old as her, and listed a small number of sites to be put to market for clean-up…including Phaeda…Phaeda a small planet largely forgotten by the galaxy she could never forget…She had been in command of her Interceptor flight escorting a convoy of Orbital Shipyard struts, Phaeda was the second stop till they reached Denon…it was there the Rebels had struck.
A flight of eight X-Wings, and three Y wings had performed a hit and run against the convoy, the escorts Captain half asleep failed to react in time, the systems Governor likely in on the raid slow to react. She was the only one awake it seemed, her squad of four doing a standard over flight when they struck – she had immediately moved to intercept, downed two of the Y wings, her wing men taking the other and three X wings before they retreated…but the damage was done…a last ditch proton torpedo from the final X wing kill struck the hauler dead on, the shield softened by the Y wings ion cannons.
The explosion was the last thing she had seen with her true eyes…a piece of twirling burning metal smashing into the transparisteel. She had the best treatment and artificial eyes the Imperial Medical Corp could provide and a promotion and commendation…yet she lost the ability to fly again. The nerve damage and imperfect grafting meant her eye-hand co-ordination no longer met minimum standards…so here she was Colonel of the junk sellers…selling the very piece of shrapnel that had stuck her here.
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A soft chime,
“Come,” Sala noted her finger and thumb rubbing her eyebrows as she read the briefing papers…a habit she’d picked up during the reconstruction surgery…where she couldn’t touch her own eyes she’d settled for the eyebrows instead…still growing back they felt as prickly as Harm’s stubble after he hadn’t shaved.
“Colonel your 13.00 has arrived,” Nyka Kalas her assistant informed her across the comm.
The door swept open to reveal a slightly younger man in standard civilian unfirom,
“Colonel, Wren Destal, Senior Administrator,”
Yes the incoming briefing, Destal had a slightly high pitched voice, an a shifty look about him, but he explained the process and the decisions she would need to make clearly enough.
“Generally it is all fairly standard, our valuation teams visit the site after the Fleet had cleared it, we take an assessment of the value of scrap, then take offers from civilian contractors who wish to buy it…typically we get 40% of the face value of the scrap,”
Her back stiffened at that,
“Only 40%?”
“Yes…after all the contactors has to get there, pick it up, process elsewhere and take a cut for themselves,” he shrugged “It’s a reasonable return, for example for the Phaedra lot our estimate is 300,000 credit return ”
For a destroyed heavy cargo ship, ten fighters and the remnants of the cargo itself…
“That seems much too low Destal,”
“Please call me Wren,” he smiled “I doubt you’ll get a better offer…at any rate, I’ve taken the liberty of arranging the paper work for the usual contractor and…”
Her eyes narrowed as her gaze slowly fixed on his face
“Taken the liberty, when I haven’t reviewed the other offers,”
“Really Colonel you don’t need to worry yourself about such minor details,”
“Ensuring the Empire receives a fair price is not a minor detail, we may be selling scrap but that is no reason to undervalue it…I will meet with the bidders,”
“That isn’t necessary Colonel I have a longstanding working relationship with…”
“This is not up for debate Destal, you will arrange it immediately, I will not repeat myself again,”
Her vision of his face briefly blurred – a sign he had made a quick facial expression her cybernetics didn’t have time to process before it was gone
“As you wish Colonel,”
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“Send them in” she informed Nyka as the afternoon began. Her review of previous contracts had identified a tendency to use the same three contractors over and over again, this worried her. She wasn’t sure if someone was on the take…but she didn’t like Destals casual approach to this, and efforts over her first week to make decisions for her. She might not have wanted this career, but she was not going to do a lesser job for that – her duty demanded it and she understood every extra million credits was a million more for research or additional training places at an Academy.
She would not put up with a 40% average return that was mandated, for the Empire, for Harm, for herself, she would do better.
A floating Toydarain fluttered in, Sala wondering how such alien filth got past the guards…credits had no smell perhaps.
He was the first ‘contractor’ she had met and she was no more impressed by him as she was with the five that followed. All explained the costs of transporting to, collecting the detritus, transporting it back, sorting pieces melting it down…and therefore could only offer at most 40% of the headline prices for scrap doonium and durasteel…just as Destal had indicated.
She was not a negotiator she had only been given this position because she was intent on serving somehow and Admiral Chel Dorat of the General Staff, an old friend of Harm’s from the academy had taken pity on her. She flicked her glance to the small holo of Harm in dress uniform, the image resolving in her mind a few moments after her false eyes moved…the delayed reaction was a pain but she was getting used to it.
Harm had only visited her once, before her bandages were taken off…a few fleeting moments between deployments, as a Captain under General Veers Harm was rarely able to book or take leave…only that Veers was recalled for a ‘special’ briefing of some kind on Coruscant had he been able to come, his previous three leave requests ‘postponed due to emergency circumstances’. Still he tried and she loved him for it.
“I’ll do well by you Harm…” she couldn’t just stay at home while he was out there…and she couldn’t train pilots if she couldn’t see their turns until 3 seconds after they happened…but she could get the credits that would buy Harm more resources on the ground.
The chime again,
“Col…”
“Send them strait in” Sala cut Nyka off, this was the last one…and she wanted to get out of here…but she had to press forward…how much would this one offer, 38% or 39%…
She stood to greet the human male that entered her eyes only slowly adjusting as usual.
“Colonel thank you for seeing me,” polite at least, she finally resolved a handsome face marred by a grim expression beneath light short hair, a black business suit with dark red highlights.
“please sit,” she said formally as he did so
“So what is your offer,” she was done with niceties for one lifetime…she needed to develop a negotiating style anyway, might as well have a blunt one she could live with.
“Well colonel…for the Phaedra scrap, we’re happy to offer 500,000, for the Romas VI 310,000,” her mouth twitched with annoyance…these must be ‘before cost’ figures
“I’m not interested in your pre-cost figures, how much are you going to pay us for the right to collect?”
“As I said, 500 and 310…” he repeated “Those are the amounts we are happy to pay you directly, today in fact…” he paused seemingly reading her concern, “We don’t inflate our offer with deductible costs, we pay direct amounts, less complex…and no claw back for difficult retrieval or loss – if we make more than 500 on Phaedra then we win out, if less then we accept the loss knowing we’ll make it up somewhere else…” he paused
“But to make it up somewhere else we need you to choose us again…so we aim to offer better prices than our competitors.”
She eyed him cautiously, he was serious looking man, a no nonsense cut to his posture…something told her this was a man she could trust far more than the others…yet still she should be cautious, she didn’t want to wreck her first deal…true she was selling scrap…but the Empire needed those credits.
“Alright…I’ll give you Phaedra for 520,000,”
His head turned slightly to regard her, 20,000 wasn’t huge amount…
“Done” he said clearly and swiftly.
“Excellent,” she checked her chrono, “Forgive me I have another meeting,” she didn’t but she didn’t want to waste time.
“I’m sure my assistant will help you get in touch with our legal and ground teams…a pleasure doing business Mr?”
“Andisson,” he said flatly
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The blue sun cast strange dotted reflections against the metal that spun in low orbit over Fest…the cold world home to an Imperial facility that tested various alloys. A rebel strike against a convoy carrying test alloys had been rebuffed, but the left overs of a rebel corvette, and half a dozen fighters provided a good opportunity for her to oversee the valuation process herself, to understand the work she was doing better.
“With the volumetric scans we take an estimate of average density and composition for star ship types,” Valuer Losan explained behind his datapad…
“Based on that we can take the value for scrap it will offer, reduce to 40% and that is the target,
“How long have we been using 40%” she asked
“Uh…ooh…must be four or five years?” he looked over to the pilot a co-valuer Gorde who nodded
“Just after I started,”
“And the former Military commander instituted it,”
“Ah…officially…it was Destals calculation…the previous commander…” he paused
“Speak freely Losan,”
“Was not as hands on as you are nor as invested, he left Destal to take care of most things…”
“I see…” she noted as her cybernetic eyes filtered out the strongest reflections.
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The officers bar was relatively empty at this hour…all busying up for something ‘big’ she had no clue about…out of the loop for her yearlong recovery yet Destal was there chatting up some young Lieutenant, a Tatooine sunrise in his hand.
“Destal,” she said firmly
“Ah Colonel how might I assist,” he crooned
“You might be at your desk rather than at the bar…these extend lunches must stop, I will put out official advice this afternoon, I want a tighter ship run, in all areas, not the least of which is a revision to the return rate, I want 60% minimum.”
The Lieutenant looking slightly uncomfortable slowly slipped away as Destal protested
“Colonel, that…is not reasonable for our usual suppliers”
“We have no usual suppliers anymore, we contract whoever offer the best return on a case by case basis, we will get the best price each and every time, if it is the same firm so be it, but past performance will no longer be considered a reason for preferential treatment.”
He became indiginant
“No one will pay that, not the Toydarian not…”
“Andisson does, 70-75%,”
His face blurred again indicating another micro expression her eyes didn’t have time to record
“He can’t be trusted that one,”
“So far he has proved exemplary, faster at clean up, and always willing to negotiate, your preferred contractors could learn a thing from him, now get back to your desk before I…"
A slight commotion behind the bar turned her attention…
“It’s crazy…,”
“Frelling rebel propaganda that’s what it is!”
“What’s going on,” she asked,
“Huh- oh,” the barman switched on the holo-screen that sat ignored in the corner.
“Rebel Terrorists have launched a cowardly attack on the Imperial Security Complex on Scarif, hordes of insane unlawful zealots in hundreds of ships were held off by two Star Destroyers, but fell just moments before Grand Moff Tarkin could support these heroes. The Emperor has issued a written statement expressing shock and dismay at the attack, but assuring all Imperial Citizens stern action will be taken against the Rebels imminently,”
“Frell…” Sala blew out…then turned to Destal, “Prep the valuation team immediately,”
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