>>5978298The man pauses, breathing heavily. You aren't sure if he's collecting his thoughts or recovering from the effort of speaking.
"Almost one hundred solar years ago..." His tone shifts to bitter contempt. "I served as a functionary... under the Board of Shareholders- th-the Mega-Corps. My work was..." Pete gasps, holding one of his walker's legs to steady himself. "To coordinate sh-shipments. Your majesty... you are a wise ruler. Your father, his majesty, taught you well..."
"You know the truth of the... old Mega-Corps. The... the opulence. The... consumerism. You... don't know... the rot. I was young, then... talented, connected. I was put in ch-charge of a corporate subdivision... to build a new, little starport on Plutul. Our budget was one-hundred million credits, with an ETA of... four years."
The commoner coughs into his sleeve, a slight breach of protocol, but for one of such an advanced age, this can be overlooked at the moment.
"They put us eight-hundred million in debt... and in six years... barely laid down the foundation. Their plan was to... file for bankruptcy... dump the stocks... embezzle it all... I was a figurehead... I couldn't stop them... couldn't get any work done. Then your Empire- my Empire- came."
"They took control. Broke the subcorporations... Evaporated mine. A Soluton got on top of the project... finished it in seven months and four days." At this, he gets a strange sense of awe in his voice. "That was... efficient... no-nonsense, no meetings... only real, physical work! It was beautiful... and I wanted to be a part of it. I was... and am, proud to serve... to be part of something real."
"These corporations... they're all the same, your majesty. They may have... different brands... but the greed underneath is the same. It would be... generations... before the decline set in on the roads, but... I couldn't let that happen... It would be a rock in the Empire's boot... maybe even a nail, and... and... the Empire needs to march strong! On imperial roads!"
Pete shuffles, slowly rising on his walker. "It wasn't my... my place to interfere... but I felt I must... I owed it to the Empire... Please, your majesty... forgive my shameful methods... I'm no noble, no veteran, no... merchant... all I had... all I have... is the holo-pen..."
You consider his words. "I've heard enough. You may depart my presence. Guards, escort them to their rooms." Hardly furnished enough to suit noble dignitaries, but a far cry indeed from the dungeons of House Vonduul. If anything, confinement on Mars is better than the artificial hab-blocks they're used to.