“Mister Lawke, you’re dying…”
The words were hollow, disconnected, as if from a poor quality holo-transmission coming from the other end of the galaxy. Daegon Lawke had been sitting on the examination table for nearly a minute since his personal physician spoke those words—to him, it felt like an eternity. He sat there, staring blankly at the doctor…no, not at, through, gazing off into some unfathomable distance. …I’ve wasted so much time. How could I have been so foolish?
“How?” The muscles in his throat were constricted and he felt as if he were choking on the word as it came out.
Daegon’s doctor had long since learned that his employer hated bedside manner. It was best just to come to the point with this patient. “A rare degenerative disease…very rare…I’ve only read about cases, never actually seen one,” that was saying something, as Daegon’s personal physician was one of the most prominent and respected in the galaxy, “the functionality of your internal organs will begin to diminish rapidly—we can treat it somewhat with cybernetic replacements, but eventually your body will begin to reject those…I’m afraid there’s no permanent cure.”
“How long?” Perhaps luck would still be with him, perhaps his destiny was not yet decided.
“Ten years…at the most. Five, if your body won’t accept the cybernetics.”
“Very well doctor, I’ve some things to put in order, so I’ll take my leave now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later, Daegon was aboard The Noble Prospect, heading out of Coruscant’s gravity well. The executive cabin was an exact replica of his office on Arkania, and, incidentally, the place where he conducted most of his business. The holo-projector on his desk hummed busily. A miniature facsimile of a Muun business flickered slightly.
“You want me to sell your majority share? I don’t understand sir…there’s no indication that this market is going anywhere but up!” The voice was filled with consternation and disbelief. Understandable, Lawke hadn’t made a dumb business move in decades.
“I made my first billion while you were still crunching numbers at the trade-school Vaar, don’t lecture me about markets.”
“But-“
Lawke cut his chief money-manager off, not wanting to waste the effort of explaining his latest move, “I’d like you to remember who you work for. Sell the shares, transfer the money to my numbered accounts…and then tender your resignation.”
“I…I…”
“Don’t blather on. You’ll be well reimbursed, as per your contract,” there was a faint hiss from the hologram as the Muun sighed in resignation. Lawke didn’t even bother to say goodbye, he simply cut the transmission and the queued up another.
There was a moment’s hesitation before the computer reconnected, and Daegon felt the full effects of his own indecision. Talking with money-managers was one thing—Daegon was perfectly comfortable signing away millions of credits or presiding over a hostile takeover—but this, this would be the most important meeting in his entire life. His entire destiny would be decided by his ability to persuade another of his own intrinsic usefulness, something he had never had to do before. He pushed the wave of apprehension down, regaining his typical stoicism in an instant. The computer beeped its readiness to send his message hurtling through hyperspace…to the planet Alsakan.
“My name is Daegon Lawke, I have information vital to the survival of the Alsakan Union. I need to speak to Van Tien immediately.”
The words were hollow, disconnected, as if from a poor quality holo-transmission coming from the other end of the galaxy. Daegon Lawke had been sitting on the examination table for nearly a minute since his personal physician spoke those words—to him, it felt like an eternity. He sat there, staring blankly at the doctor…no, not at, through, gazing off into some unfathomable distance. …I’ve wasted so much time. How could I have been so foolish?
“How?” The muscles in his throat were constricted and he felt as if he were choking on the word as it came out.
Daegon’s doctor had long since learned that his employer hated bedside manner. It was best just to come to the point with this patient. “A rare degenerative disease…very rare…I’ve only read about cases, never actually seen one,” that was saying something, as Daegon’s personal physician was one of the most prominent and respected in the galaxy, “the functionality of your internal organs will begin to diminish rapidly—we can treat it somewhat with cybernetic replacements, but eventually your body will begin to reject those…I’m afraid there’s no permanent cure.”
“How long?” Perhaps luck would still be with him, perhaps his destiny was not yet decided.
“Ten years…at the most. Five, if your body won’t accept the cybernetics.”
“Very well doctor, I’ve some things to put in order, so I’ll take my leave now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thirty minutes later, Daegon was aboard The Noble Prospect, heading out of Coruscant’s gravity well. The executive cabin was an exact replica of his office on Arkania, and, incidentally, the place where he conducted most of his business. The holo-projector on his desk hummed busily. A miniature facsimile of a Muun business flickered slightly.
“You want me to sell your majority share? I don’t understand sir…there’s no indication that this market is going anywhere but up!” The voice was filled with consternation and disbelief. Understandable, Lawke hadn’t made a dumb business move in decades.
“I made my first billion while you were still crunching numbers at the trade-school Vaar, don’t lecture me about markets.”
“But-“
Lawke cut his chief money-manager off, not wanting to waste the effort of explaining his latest move, “I’d like you to remember who you work for. Sell the shares, transfer the money to my numbered accounts…and then tender your resignation.”
“I…I…”
“Don’t blather on. You’ll be well reimbursed, as per your contract,” there was a faint hiss from the hologram as the Muun sighed in resignation. Lawke didn’t even bother to say goodbye, he simply cut the transmission and the queued up another.
There was a moment’s hesitation before the computer reconnected, and Daegon felt the full effects of his own indecision. Talking with money-managers was one thing—Daegon was perfectly comfortable signing away millions of credits or presiding over a hostile takeover—but this, this would be the most important meeting in his entire life. His entire destiny would be decided by his ability to persuade another of his own intrinsic usefulness, something he had never had to do before. He pushed the wave of apprehension down, regaining his typical stoicism in an instant. The computer beeped its readiness to send his message hurtling through hyperspace…to the planet Alsakan.
“My name is Daegon Lawke, I have information vital to the survival of the Alsakan Union. I need to speak to Van Tien immediately.”
