DISCLAIMER: I do not own Firefly, or the Firefly IP/universe/characters. While the words are mine they are based in an IP I do not own. I do not make money from this, it's all in good fun.
Author's note: This is a (very) belated continuation from my previous stories (Upheave, Shellshock). It is fully written aside from a bit of editing, so I will be posting weekly updates. Hope you enjoy! (and review)
Staedler watched in horror. The numbers were irrefutable. Everything gone, in an instant. The business, the trust fund, the house, the cabin, the yacht, everything. And that still wouldn't be enough to pay the hungry creditors that would descend in droves. He kept expecting his screen to refresh, or to wake up and find it was all just a terrible dream, but though he waited for seeming hours nothing changed. The screen blinked at him an angry red and all he could do was blink back. He had worked his entire life to build his fortune, his empire, and now it was all gone in the blink of an eye.
He could see the Magnate's face at the party last night. The malevolent gaze smug with victory, at the time he had thought it was due to his bungling yet another polite conversation, he had yet to fully grasp the finesse of core language even after twenty years of moving in the top levels of Persephone's society, but now he knew. The man had won a great victory, stealing his company out from underneath him by flooding the stock market with low prices for the shares he had owned. The Magnate had always looked down his nose at Staedler, mocked his poor upbringing, and done his best to takeover his company.
Staedler punched the screen. He imagined it would have been a much more satisfying fit of rage back when they were still hardware, but all it did was bathe his hand in red. Bellowing his anger to the quiet room he stood up, tipping his chair over and began to pace. There had to be a way to get it back, get it all back. His mind fumbled and flitted from one idea to the next, never coming up the victor. Except.
He could win another way. There were secrets the Magnate thought well hidden from his enemies. Secrets Staedler had paid a fortune to acquire, secrets that could bring the man down. Not in society, not financially, but personally. The Magnate had a wife and two sons that had no clue about his nefarious activity behind closed doors. Thinking it through he came up with a plan, it would take time, and a certain amount of patience, but all he had left in the world was time, and he hadn't built this life by being hasty.
He wasn't a man to lay down and give up in despair. The Magnate. The bastard would pay.