Corporate Hostilities

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Karl the Mad
 

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Corporate Hostilities

Post by Karl the Mad »

August 17, 2027

Hardy & Jameson's Exotic Imports, while perhaps not a full-time job, nonetheless required its top executive officers and ranking shareholders to make infrequent appearances at the Hope offices, where they had relocated roughly four or five years ago. And Marianna Jameson, owner and president, was no exception. As much as she hated paperwork and meetings, sometimes they just had to be done. This month, though, there was an urgency around that dwarfed the usual boredom and tedium.

"Let me get this straight," she inserted with a sigh, interrupting the clamor around her. "Alkaev is under attack, and H&J is in the crossfires."

"That, or we're next," another woman piped up. "Whatever it is, whoever's behind it, they're not pulling any punches. Hostile tactics from every chapter in the book; buyouts, intimidation, blatant strong-arming... even a few after hours IED attacks. Nothing lethal, just enough boom to wreck the shops."

"And where do we come in?" Mary prodded, crossing her arms beneath her chest.

"We've got contracts with Alkaev," another executive summarized. "It won't be long before we're approached about severing those contracts, giving them to a competitor."

"Any idea who?" No one had one. "Hm. Well, obviously the answer's going to be no, is that understood? Alkaev is one of our best customers, and we've had a long and lucrative partnership with them that I'm not willing to throw out over a couple thugs and their threats. Do I make myself clear?"

"Um, permission to speak candidly, ma'am?" the first woman asked. At Mary's nod, she grinned nervously. "Well, uh, shouldn't our answer be, um, hell no?"

Mary smiled back. "Go a little stronger, Alison."

"...f-fuck no...?" she replied in a small voice, unused to swearing in the boardroom.

That got a laugh from the retired cop. "That's the spirit." The rest of them laughed too, and some of the tension dissolved. "Come on everybody, let it all out! Fuck those cretins! Fuck 'em up the ass!" There followed a lot of laughter and cheering as they gave voice to what they really thought, and Mary was cheered by their loyalty to the company. "...alright, alright, settle down," and she waved her hands. "Party's over, back to business. So have the cops done anything?"

"The cops are stymied," one of them reported. "We suspect moles, but obviously since we're not directly threatened yet we can't be seen to show any interest. So we can't lean on them from our end." He gave Mary an inquisitive look. "You're with Shield, right? Can't you do something?"

"Me?" Mary replied, feigning ignorance. "Oh no, not me. I'm retired from all that nonsense." Another faint snigger ran through the room; they all knew that was crap. "But I guess I could make a phone call or two." She turned and looked out the window, taking in the clear sky and the blazing sun; it wasn't even noon, and already a bloody hot day. Perfect for random shit in her line of work to go down...

------------------------

And after the meeting adjourned, Mary stepped out onto the rooftop helipad and did just that. "Call Archie," she told her wrist computer, which blinked in agreement and made old-fashioned modem noises as the call went through. While she waited, she ignored the shimmering heat and gazed at the company chopper, a slightly retro old bird she was still conceited enough to fly herself. She missed the old Apache attack birds, some of which SCRT had access to when she was in service.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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If someone had a wrist computer, someone else had gone for an adapted rotary phone almost plucked straight out of the early twentieth century...

As could be expected, Archie Holden was a fervent consumer of all things retro. Considering, an almost Regency-Era phone - nevermind that phones hadn't existed during the Edwardian years - with an artfully integrated Caller ID system was more his speed than anything wearable - or God forbid, implantable - the youngsters took to. He did have a smartphone, of course, but insisted on routing his mobile calls to his desk whenever he was available. Picking up a receiver felt more natural to him than hitting a little Answer button on some touchscreen...

To Mary's whistling winds and distant urban clamor, he opposed the local Classical music station's muted broadcast of the Planets suite, the rather ubiquitous beats of Mars making for an odd choice in workplace music. Not that he'd had any choice in the matter, of course - but maybe sorting files to something John Williams often quoted as being one of his inspirations for most of Star Wars' soundtrack gave more energy to the proceedings. Who'd know?

"Archibald Holden's desk..."
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Karl the Mad
 

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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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What a choice of music. Clearly he was at home, or the background would be somewhat different.

"Arch, it's Jameson," she said out loud, the device on her wrist carrying her voice clearly across the connection. "Be a dear and look into the recent Alkaev attacks, would you? It's likely to get a bit personal for me, and we wouldn't want that."

She shuddered, wishing she could go home and take this ridiculous office power suit off. He'd love to see me in this, she thought, knowing well how the clank wished her to dress more professionally. "Consider it a favor owed, I guess. Not sure where you could start. But get back to me personally as soon as you can, alright? This is serious."
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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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"Of course it is," lightly replied the Clank with a tiny bit of a genial tone. "I can scarcely imagine how Anastasius' boardroom friends would survive without knowing that their android models come with optional imported rosewood appliqués your company offers materials for..."

Playful barbs aside, he'd finally gotten a hang of his computer and operating system's included metacrawler. Tweaked to be able to gaze into the HPD's Intranet, it allowed him to quickly cast a net over associated news stories and cases. Judging on the noise she'd hear, he'd done just as anyone else and had stuck the phone between one shoulder and his ear, his almost-decent typing speed being slightly stymied by his mechanical typewriter years. He still tended to work as though his keyboard would get jammed if he typed too quickly.

"I can already tell you that Anastasius is fine, Thank Heavens; but the man is wracked with concern for his local workers' well-being. You know how the Crimson Spirit's left him: unbearably sensitive to all personal or professional sources of irritation. I daresay he possibly is booking a session with his therapist over the vacation days his plant workers will miss... I really need to speak to him on the subject of misplaced guilt."

He clicked his tongue after a few moments. "There isn't much I can safely ascertain on my own, not from the safety of this office, at the very least. One swipe of the usual news channel makes it clear the Japanese and American firms are not being bothered - at least not for now - and I do believe nobody would even wish to take a stab at Goliath's cybernetics division... John Smith is already notoriously ruthless for his buyouts of lesser competitors, he wouldn't budge under this sawdust-and-orange-concentrate bullying..."

The Clank then produced a vaguely thoughtful grunt. "Orange juice and sawdust, eh? Do you know of any paid mercenary firms that use homemade napalm, much less makeshift incendiary devices? I certainly don't... Contract work issued to some of the local hoodlums, perhaps? That'd be an adequate means of deflecting attention..."
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Karl the Mad
 

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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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Mary frowned in thought. "I know Jenkins goes in for that stuff, but he's supposedly on the up-and-up right now. Preston, maybe? He'd do anything for money, as would his underlings."

Her gaze swept idly across the cityscape before her, and she gave serious thought to taking the chopper for a quick spin. "I haven't got my ears to the ground like I used to, or I'd be doing this myself," she went on. "Maybe I'll poke about a tad while the sun's high and folks are loathe to move much." It had to be in the mid 90s, at the least. Fucking Rhode Island heatwaves...

Then something occurred to her. "Hang on, aren't Jenkins and that Arab pal of his out of town right now? Who's to say their manager isn't doing a bit of freewheeling while the big cats are away?" She didn't fancy staring down Charles' goons solo, though. "Are Aislinn or Aspasia free at the moment? Can you send them my way if they're inclined? I'll pay, of course."

She knew Archie was tight with Crystal Lowell, but didn't want to impugn upon such a personal connection out loud.
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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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"Do you have a moment?" asked Archie, "I could always set up a conference call, we've ourselves a full house today."
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Karl the Mad
 

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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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Oh, how convenient. "Absolutely," Mary agreed, "put them on." Hopefully the others understood her urgency, since normally the razorgirl's private affairs weren't anyone's business but hers. And that of her corporate officers. "Put them all on, I guess! I can't keep to myself forever!" More than a little sarcasm, there...
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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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Aspasia usually only came around when Shield needed her and Coach's help with a case. For now, Aislinn happened to be the only selkie currently at Holden Hall. The tattooist wasn't quite sure when her siblings would show up, but they might. As for Mary, the youngest selkie wasn't sure what to think of the augmented human, as she had seldom been around her. While she certainly didn't fear for her life, she figured she would still have to have some time to get used to her.

The young mage had ambled into the conference room and took a seat not far from the screen.
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Karl the Mad
 

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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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Hearing footsteps, Mary tried to guess who it was. "Hello? Is that a selkie I hear wandering about?" she called out, wondering when would be a good time to head back inside. "You sound light, whoever you are..."
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Re: Corporate Hostilities

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"That would be Aislinn," supplied Archie.

Another set of footsteps was heard approaching, after which a chair slid towards the conference table. "Aidan Drake here," supplied Three.

Heavier footsteps followed, fabric whispering as a heavyset presence sat down and lightly coughed. The voice would be strangely familiar to her, yet somehow new... "Tom Magnus," said the honeyed basso, "I'm one third of the core Arcane Research team, with Francis Quigley and Zebediah Buck. Francis is on an off day for end-of-semester reasons, but Zeb should drop by soon. Very pleased to meet you. Although, I'm sorry - you might have to give me a crash course on what I missed... Consider me a very recent hire."

Low metallic thuds then followed, along with a grunt and the sound of protesting wooden structures. "Y'ello, Bucky here!"
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