[Arthur Corean]
[Corean Enterprises]
[New Avalon, New Avalon System, Federated Suns]
[January 20th, 3028]
It was unfortunate that Julia was still giving me the cold shoulder even weeks after Christmas, but she was slowly starting to warm up to me.
I think Big Sis had a lot to do with that, though I had been curious as to why she was sticking around for so long when the Spring Term back on Augusta had started on the 8th... and that was when I learned that Julia was an exceptionally bright cookie. She graduated two years early and had even started taking distance learning courses at New Avalon University while in her senior year of Tertiary School; the young lady knocked out as many Gen-Ed courses as possible at Yuri's insistence.
This not only impressed me but also made me feel satisfied that Yuri thought of passing my advice to him on to our sister; it wasn't as though I had forgotten about her its just... she never really came up in my life.
The large age gaps between the Corean children were only exacerbated by the distance between us- when it took a month by Jumpship to get from New Avalon to Augusta such travel was only undertaken when it needed to be done. I had been running at 100% for years, constantly powering through coursework as fast as I could- Spring, Summer, and Fall were filled to the brim with classes to the point where I was in school all year round. When I graduated and started working for Corean as the Chief Science Officer, that was when I was supposed to have more free time to do things like travel and visit my family, but with the murder of my parents and the subsequent attempt on my life, non-essential travel was cut out completely.
Damn ComStar for fucking with me. For fucking with my family.
It was their fault I had to deal with a moody teenager!
However, as I said earlier, she was warming up to me; she acknowledges my presence when I see her in the various places around the underground den I called home, so it's a start. Yeathers was sticking around a few more weeks to help Amelia get settled in, and they were going to move her in with Yuri and his security detail; a University student she might be now, she was still 16, and like hell were Yeathers or I going to let her live on her own. Yuri, for his part, was happy to have his little sister close once more, and having to share a room with her in his apartment wasn't going to be an issue; he didn't have a girlfriend anymore, and considering his live-in Maid, Butler/Driver, and Security Team it wasn't like he was bringing girls back to his place anyway.
That was mainly because he was wholly focused on his classes and his work.
After all, Yuri had finally finished his Industrialmech Certification courses, and boy was happier than a pig in slop, I tell you.
My little brother has been spending his weekends here at Corean Enterprises moving shipping containers around or helping excavate; it got him stick time he could log, and it got him some extra pocket money on the side. However, what I did not anticipate was for Commander Mason to take an interest in my little brother. He had apparently been watching some of the workers on a lark, and after seeing my brother piloting one of our Loader Kings he made some inquiries as to who the pilot was and 'why they weren't attending his training classes'.
Mason had some Anime Senses or something because he gleaned that Yuri wasn't anyone he was training; he could figure out all of that by simply observing my brother for a few minutes in some Mechwarrior Magic type shit.
"Your little brother has talent. Why don't you send him my way and I'll see if I can't make something of him? I mean, I'm getting paid either way, and I think his scores will pad out the rest of the training class; it'll help me get the performance bonus if nothing else."
He said it with that diffident shrug of his and that cheeky grin, and after consulting with Yeathers I decided to give the go-ahead. Of course, that was after Yeathers decided to test Commander Mason for herself to see if he was all I was hyping him up to be, and Captain Yeathers Corean got a chance to strut her stuff. Yeathers had served in the AFFS for eight years before leaving the service to shadow our mother to take over the County, and she had been a well-respected officer within the Davion Assault Guards. She had personally seen to Yuri's training when he was with her on Augusta, and from what I remember she was no slouch behind the controls of a Battlemech.
She strode into that simulated duel astride the digital representation of what we had cooked up together for her Pillager, and even with all of the CorTech crammed into that machine it did nothing to help her fight off the whirlwind that was Commander Mason; he even piloted a stock MAD-3D for that duel just to prove a point.
In the end, she lasted less than three minutes against the Commander, dealing a savage blow to her pride.
"You did good, Countess Corean. Not many Mechwarriors can go toe to toe with me like that for as long as you did. I'd hire you."
His praise for her performance being genuine didn't really soften the impact at all.
So with all of the Mechwarrior posturing out of the way, she and Yuri both started attending Mason's training sessions.
When she wasn't taking Julia and Amelia (and one of my security teams) with her out shopping, and when Yuri wasn't taking classes or earning stick time behind the controls of an Industrialmech, they were suited up and in the Sim Pods acting as part of the Op-For for the new Corean Security Forces pilots... the two of them showcasing that flawless Corean Teamwork to drive the newbies' confidence into the dirt when Mason wasn't doing it himself.
Other than the occasional visit to chat with Ryana about their progress every other week, which was always a pleasure, I didn't really have much hands-on time with CorSec as I would have liked.
Time had become an all too precious commodity, and my hands were constantly busy with the roll-around of the new year; I had tasks dripping between my fingers like grains of sand at the beach, to the point where even I was starting to feel the strain.
Not only had the Helm Memory Core arrived at NAIS, but I had gotten my un-redacted copy as well, something only ten men and women besides myself and Inner Circle even knew existed. No one on the Board knew, no one in my research departments knew, and certainly not the employee standing out back taking a smoke break. I combed through my departments with Samantha and MIIO, and we picked ten of my best archivists and data analysts to be read in on the 'first half' of the Graus University Library Core.
Unlike the canon timeline, the Helm Library Core wasn't straight-up ripped from the mainframe while in a time crunch. Grayson Carlyle and company also didn't have the highest ranking Star League General's credentials on hand to have the Core copied onto the data cores without all of the SLDF encryption; the only hang-up we had was that, while most computer systems are based on old Star League data storage architectures, there was naturally a lot of divergence as the centuries wore on. We had evolved for the good in some ways, but in other ways the old Star League systems were superior- the SL Coding schemes prioritized streamlined efficiency for its computers over features, and with the Star League being the leading producer (and the SLDF being the standard of which all others were judged) that meant that everyone naturally followed the Hegemony's lead.
Each program and application performed its job with little bells and whistles, and while it lacked frills, they were compact and exceptionally well built. In the centuries since the fall of the Star League, without a guiding light to copy off, the various companies of the Great Houses began to move in their own directions, and the Federated Suns was no different; in fact, the accuracy of the Star League-era Coding coursework I got to attend could be laid at the feet of Hanse's Halstead Station find- those books he got, while nothing compared to the Helm Memory Core, were a treasure trove in their own right. It was the sacrifice of those men and women that made it possible for me to be as competent as I am today; I need to tell Hanse that in private sometime, because I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing it.
Regardless, the fact was that the Helm Memory Core when it got to NAIS was not a complete and utter mess that had to be decrypted and reconfigured, which meant that we were pretty much able to hit the ground running.
Once I fixed the formatting issues, however.
Somehow, the library core had its aspect ratio permanently matched to the monitor that it was originally viewed on at Helm, which meant that unless you were viewing it on a massive flatscreen as wide as a man was tall. You'd have this utterly aggravating need to scroll all of the way to the right to read the data entries; sort of like the old 'Notepad' of my previous life where even after decades of life it was never updated to adjust the formatting depending on the side of the window. If you kept typing without using the 'Enter' key then it would type toward the right in perpetuity.
So after whipping up a quick fix to circumvent the stuck aspect ratio to all commonly viewable formats, I handed off the work-around to the NAIS Eggheads- who were in the middle of struggling to mount a large flatscreen on a wall- during my next visit, and Hanse dispatched a runner to carry the fix to the Lyrans.
Much to my surprise, though I guess I really shouldn't have been that surprised, the core was exceptionally well put together, with data entries being easily viewable via a variety of systems; you could keyword search, search by date, topic, and it even had a tagging system that could be readily implemented.
I swear to God it was like taking a trip down the Wikipedia rabbit hole all over again. Or discovering . Or the WH40K Wiki. Every time I found some new article or scientific treatise that I had been searching for, it led me to another five pages, which led me to another five pages, and another...
The first day we got the Core installed in my special basement, I must have spent twelve hours staring at a flat screen while giggling like a loon as I devoured stacks upon stacks of genuine, peer-reviewed, Star League-era White Papers.
However, as much as I wished to stick my fingers into all of the goodies, I actually spent my time going over the Agricultural and Automotive Research papers, particularly those related to Agri-robots and Commercial Vehicles.
While the first few prototypes of the Agristar robot and Everyman vehicles had rolled off of their respective assembly lines, we were still early enough in the prototyping phase that we could make adjustments. After twelve hours of searching, I'd found a dozen different studies that had some better-designed components for both the Agristar and the Everyman, but they had been cast aside because the 2-4% improvements over their more common counterparts weren't worth the initial investment or machining. Considering I could print most of these, and I didn't have a whole infrastructure set up yet to retool for these components, now was the best time to try them out.
When I left the basement the next morning, fresh from a rousing morning sesh with the wifey, I had dozens of printed packets in my hands to distribute to the teams.
"Here, ladies and gentlemen. Feast your eyes upon these, and then get to work; I'll be back in a few days to see what you've got for me."
That was the gist of it, with some more detailed instructions as to what I wanted to be accomplished; the Agristar and Everyman teams were more than competent enough for me to allow them to work without holding their hands, but there was one program that needed more direct attention, and it wasn't because they were incompetent, but because what they were going to be doing hadn't been done before on an industrial scale before.
"I have a meeting here in an hour, so unfortunately ladies and gentlemen I'm going to have to keep this brief until I can back around to you later in the week," Seated in an amphitheater within the Admin complex was the team that I had assigned to the Corean M3SB, or Metal Salt Solid State Battery program.
All one hundred and forty-seven men and women were looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, likely because the eight large urns of coffee on the tables at the back had been completely emptied.
"When I first started this program we were running off of my own notes, theories, and suppositions- aided only by a half-dozen disparate Star League White Papers that spent almost half of their word count referencing other scientific studies that we didn't have access to. That is until now," I looked around the room as I held up a large stack of documentation that was thicker than an old 20th Century phone book, "Don't ask me where or how this information was acquired, because I can't and won't tell you, but for now consider any such questions verboten; when the time is right all will be revealed. Just know that we now have in our possession, near as far as I can tell, practically every last drop of research the Terran Hegemony conducted on their M3SB program, and we? We are going to put their knowledge to good use."
"From this point forward, the Corean M3SB program is now 100% Green-lit. You will be moving all of your stuff to SCMF #4 when it finishes at the end of the month; the building will be locked down, with only you and your teams having access to them- Alpha Black security protocols. That means only authorized personnel in and out, and a full inspection from the Corean Security teams as well as a complete clothing swap; no personal devices, no jewelry, etc, etc. I know it's a pain in the ass, but we cannot afford to have any leaks, so please bear with it," The holotank to my left lit up as the organizational chart for the M3SB Teams popped up and names were highlighted as I spoke, "Doc Martin, Doc Richter, Doc Kensey, Doc Mallory, and Doc Uriel will have control of the teams on this list, with Doc Sposon as the lead of the project. Doc Renly? I am thankful for all of the hard work that you've put in on the program, but I'm going to pull you because I have an even bigger project I need you to work on."
I could see the good Doctor Alfred Renly start to puff up a little bit in the front row, as the M3SB Project had been his first foray as a Project Head- his first opportunity to show his stuff- but at the mention of him being pulled, because I needed him for bigger and better things, mollified him immediately; if anything he adjusted his glasses and looked rather smug.
"Until the move to the new facility is completed, however, this documentation will remain under the proverbial lock and key here in the Admin Complex, so expect to spend the next week or so pouring over the documentation and getting familiar with it there-"
"Apologies for the delay, Mister Matrim," I spoke as I entered the small conference room, with Samantha hot on my heels who shut the door behind me.
I was pleased that my trot from the M3SB team hadn't winded me at all, and it showed that my physical fitness was steadily improving- even if I hadn't seen much visible progress in my physique after the first few months.
Mathias Matrim was a man roughly five years my junior, with black hair and sea-green eyes, though he lacked a spiffy beard as his face was clean-shaven.
"Oh, it is no problem at all, Duke Corean," The man nodded his head easily, "I have had plenty of time to peruse your latest catalog and I will say that it has been an entertaining read."
"Excellent," I sat down directly across from him, "Let's get down to business, shall we?"
Mathias Matrim was the Heir to the County of Boondock, a small, frigid world only a jump or two directly off of the Federated Suns' spinward Periphery. It was a typical polar planet, with two large icecaps that encroached greatly from the poles, and only a narrow strip on the equator was considered habitable; it stayed a roughly consistent 13.5 degrees Celsius year-round at the equator thanks to the planet's axial tilt, but moving a few hundred kilometers from it quickly turned from pine-like forests to frozen tundra. Only during certain decades did the temperatures drop a few degrees as the orbit around the system's star turned wonky before once more finding equilibrium.
Boondock had a small population of 3.75 million people, and it relied on food imports from the rest of the Federated Suns to remain functional as the number of crops that could be grown with its cooler temperatures greatly restrained its ability to produce a variety of foodstuffs. What the planet did have in plentiful supply, however, was a large number of mining operations, both small private firms and more established mining concerns; Mathias' ancestor, Count Grizzwald Matias, established system laws that prevented exploitation from large corporations, allowing smaller firms to flourish as they had fewer restrictions. Almost a third of the planet's population was directly related to the mining industry, and together they supplied the world a great deal of wealth as Boondock was responsible for supplying the Federated Suns a great deal of its precious metals, from gold to silver, and platinum.
They were wealthy enough to keep the Dismal Disinherited mercenary company, an outfit consisting of three full Regiments of Battlemechs, on permanent retainer to protect their world from raiders beyond the Periphery borders.
However, despite being the Heir, Mathias' mother, Countess Wilma Matias, felt that her son should cut his teeth on learning to administrate a smaller realm or business first before he took over the County. She had been looking into purchasing a mining firm for him to run when Samantha had reached out to her through the First Prince's office, and considering the Matias family were staunch Davionists and also patently understood the need for solid leadership, they had been on the shortlist, and after meeting with the last two applicants I had a feeling that young Mathias would be the one I was looking for.
While I was able to do a decent job of Administering Petrolia as I was now, with one of the Corean Enclave's jumpships arriving every week with a courier containing the paperwork I needed to look over and sign, the fact remained that it was an expensive venture. Even if I was only paying the cost of the jumps, I was spending millions of C-Bills every month to simply rubber stamp most projects and programs that the Petrolia Development Commission was pushing forward. While I very much liked being included in the development of my system, the fact remained that I wasn't wholly necessary; not when the planet was still small and finding its sealegs, and not when the administrators on loan from Yeathers and the Prince were doing a sterling job.
Still, while Samantha and I weren't on the planet, we needed a representative, and that was where Stewardship came into play.
There were plenty of Heirs and Heiresses who were old enough to start taking on responsibility but their parents were still in good health and not yet ready to pass on the reins. To get their children some experience, they offered them up as Stewards for nobles who had other important responsibilities that kept them away from their lands, planet, or system in exchange for financial and economic incentives from the nobles they were supporting. It wasn't nearly as common in these waning days of the 3rd Succession War as it was during the 1st and 2nd wars, but for nobles like myself who also have corporations to run, it was still common enough to be considered viable.
I would have someone competent to oversee the first few years of development of my planet, and Heir Mathias would get some experience running a small Duchy and the political points that brought. Though if that was all there was to it then it would be a terrible deal for the Steward, so we worked out a contract that would bring them some additional benefits.
"So, in exchange for the good Stewardship of yourself, the Duchy of Petrolia is willing to offer these benefits:
- 3 Royal Grade Battlemechs of their choosing for the County of Matias, and the spare parts to maintain them for a good while; once they have reached the end of their usefulness they can be exchanged to Corean Industries for a preferable deal of new production Battlemechs.
- The Duchy of Petrolia will supply the County of Boondock with foodstuffs at a preferred rate of cost, plus shipping, and a 30% markup for twenty-five years.
- Corean Enterprises, though my authority as the CEO and Owner of Corean Enterprises, will establish a corporate outpost there to supply whatever products the County needs- and what Corean can produce- for at-cost refined materials. The cost of these products will be at a reasonable discount of cost plus twenty-five percent markup. However, there will be a stipulation that the County cannot resale the products provided by this contract for profit unless it is to reduce inventories for a new generation of Corean products."
I set the noteputer down on the table before sliding it across to him, "And I don't think it needs to be said that the discounts you will be receiving will be treated as confidential. While Corean Enterprises under my tenure makes sure to set fair market prices for our products, that doesn't mean that all and sundry should be privy to our actual costs."
The Count-Heir shook his head, "No, no. I completely understand, Duke Corean. This deal sounds very agreeable, and there is no doubt in my mind that my Mother will be exceptionally pleased with it. I will take the first Jumpship home and deliver this to her myself."
I tilted my head, "I'd like to make another offer, Acting-Duke Matias. Head toward Petrolia immediately, and I will pay to have this document expressly delivered to your mother's hand. Should she disagree with the terms laid out, then I will pay to have you expressly delivered home. As well as with some additional compensation for the delay."
The younger man tapped his fingers along the rim of the noteputer, "That would be quite costly, Duke Corean."
He certainly wasn't wrong, in fact, it would be to the tune of roughly 15 million C-Bills after the exorbitant express delivery fees for the message and the transport of the Heir-Count should the Countess disagree.
"The truth is that I want you to start immediately, Mathias. It is why I made the terms as generous as I did; the First Prince's advisors assure me that you have talent, and your mother is in very good standing with the Crown. Competence and trust are two things that I am willing to pay a high price for, and for five to eight years of service as the Steward of a very small population I think that the terms are more than appropriate."
The younger man stared down at the terms laid out in the document and sat there quietly for almost a full minute before he nodded his head, "Give me a week to sit down and look this over with the team of lawyers that I brought with me. While I don't doubt that the letters align with the terms you've just stated to me, it doesn't hurt to double-check. Should we not see any discrepancies, I will make best possible speed to Petrolia II and take up my duties there while you deliver this to my mother back on Boondock," The younger man stood up and buttoned up his coat, "My mother always wanted me to start being more assertive, and I can't say that being able to experience all four seasons for five to eight years wouldn't be nice before returning home."
I stood up, mirroring the young man, and we shook hands, "Do be sure to stop by before you leave so that I can give you the most recent round of documentation that I've finished; that and you'll need the paperwork, and Badge of Office. The staff that I have on the ground now are among the very best, so they'll make sure to take care of you."
And so Acting Duke Mathias Matias, the Steward of Petrolia II and the Petrolia system stood up and we shook hands, "A pleasure, Duke Corean."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mister Matias."
He made his way to the door to leave, but I stopped him just before he grabbed the door handle, "One thing before you go."
"Yes, Duke Corean? How may I be of assistance?"
"I would like you to ask your mother to put together a short list of smaller mining concerns that are looking to expand operations; you've read up on the Petrolia system, so you would know that Petrolia III and IV are ripe for mineral exploitation. For solid, reliable firms that are looking for honest work at a fair price, the Duchy of Petrolia and Corean Enterprises would be willing to pay a nice finders fee."
It took him a moment to parse over what I was requesting before he nodded with a smile, "Of course. I'm certain Mother would be more than happy to assist you in such an endeavor."
With that, the young Count-Heir from Boondock exited stage left, and I felt myself deflate like a balloon.
A warm chuckle tickled my ears as slender fingers began to tease my scalp, "What has you feeling all blue, dear?"
I sighed as I leaned my head back and accepted the peck on the lips from my lovely fiance, "Not... down or anything, just... strange. I've spent this whole life of mine gearing up to accept more and more responsibility, and I think that this is the first time I've ever genuinely delegated it... feels weird."
Samantha hummed as she lightly scraped her fingers along my scalp, "He hasn't accepted yet, love."
A snort left my lips, "Oh they'll accept. They've always had issues with food importation, and Petrolia's soon-to-be expanding agricultural industry now has a guaranteed customer; sure, they'll take a 10% hit, but having a customer is more important for them right now. PAC Foods is a complete unknown to the markets right now, and while food is always needed everywhere, expanding into new markets is always difficult until they have developed a track record."
Petrolia's largest customer had been Sodus, who didn't really need the food in the first place; they instead repackaged it and sold it elsewhere under a different, more recognizable brand name. So with Boondock they now had a customer that would buy virtually whatever they sold because they needed the foodstuffs to supplement what little they could grow. After the twenty-five-year contract was up PAC Foods would have enough of a track record to start expanding elsewhere.
"And you think it has nothing to do with the little 'Outback Outpost' that you'll be building out there? For all of the money that the Dismal Disinherited earn from their duties to Boondock, spare parts, and replacement 'Mechs are always in short supply. They have a lot of Corean 'Mechs as well in Centurions, Trebuchets, and a whole regiment of Locusts; when you open up the factories and start offering them refit packages for their 'Mechs with Corean technologies that will make them happy campers, which will also make the Countess a happy camper," I felt my spine stiffen as Sam tugged on my earlobe with her teeth, her hot breath tickling my cheek, "And of course, the First Prince will be a happy camper knowing that his staunchest supporters are supporting each other."
My MIIO Super Spy wife (to be) pressed butterfly kisses down the side of my neck as she reached for my belt buckle and started toying with it, "Now, why don't you sit back for the next fifteen minutes and relax, hmm?"
Samantha pulled the chair back and dropped down onto her knees in front of me, a wry smile on her lips, "You're going to want to be energized for the next meeting of the day anyways."
--(Short lewd for the QQ)--
Well, when she was offering, who was I to say no? However, that wasn't to say that this hadn't become a regular thing for us.
I lifted up my hips the moment she got my belt undone and fly unzipped, and she slid my dress slacks and boxers down my legs to pool them around my ankles. Already my cock was half-erect, and she let out a sultry chuckle as she dipped her nose down to slide it along the side of my shaft. Her lips met the top of my sack and I sucked in a lungful as her hot breath bathed my testes, the woman's tongue flashing out to taste.
"Sam," I murmured as I let my hands drift down to her head, my hands mindful of the careful arrangement of her bun, and her blue eyes crinkled.
She didn't wear lipstick anymore expressly for this reason.
Slender fingers gripped the base of my shaft and she began to pump me to full hardness as she sucked one of my balls into her mouth and toyed around with it. The feeling of her hot tongue sliding over my flesh and suckling made my hips twitch and my breath hitch, and within moments all 23 centimeters of me was standing at attention and throbbing angrily.
Despite wanting to hurry up and get on with it, my wife-to-be was a consummate professional. A professional tease, that is. She lathered my balls with affection while she gripped, squeezed, and pumped my shaft with alternating short and long strokes; the pressure always varying in strength that kept the sensations unique and varied. Samantha toyed with my cock and teased me until I was at the end of my patience, and then she finally brought that beautiful mouth of hers to the crown of my manhood, but only after dragging the flat of her tongue along the underside in a single, languid stroke.
Her gorgeous eyes twinkled with mischief as she parted her lips to accept the head of my member into her mouth, and one hand stroked the length of my shaft while the other began to rub and play with my sack. She carried on like that for only a minute or so, her mouth applying a gentle suction that didn't fail to make my toes curl, but a quick glance at the chrono on the wall made her speed up her efforts, and she took me deeper into her mouth.
Wet, sticky sounds filled the air as she began to bob her head in earnest, the woman sliding down the shaft further and further with each repetition. I let my hands follow along with her strokes until she reached the back of her throat, and when she slid my cock into her throat, I finally grabbed hold and held her in place, a groan leaving my lips as she allowed me to keep her there; I relished in the beautiful sensations as she swallowed around my length eagerly. Only when she gently tapped the back of my wrist did I relinquish my hold over her, and after breathing in deeply through her nose a few times she began to work herself up and down my shaft with alacrity.
Knowing that we were on a bit of a timer, I squeezed my buttocks and core to help myself along, and only a minute or so later I felt myself approaching the edge, "Sam..."
Samantha didn't redouble her efforts, instead, she merely kept the same pace, allowing me to smoothly reach my climax, and the moment I started to cum she took a deep breath and held me in her throat; one of her hands stroked my clenched up sack while I proceeded to dump my load down into her belly. She swallowed deftly, the woman using her mouth and tongue to continue to stimulate me until my climax was naught but weak little pulses; when she pulled back a thin trail of saliva connected her lips and the tip of my cock, and she breathed heavily as she stroked my length to wring the last vestiges of pleasure from me.
I reached down by the side of the chair and pulled out a packet of wet wipes and a bottle of water, and she cleaned up her mouth and sipped at the water while I cleaned my cock off and tucked myself away.
"Thank you dear, that was certainly quite refreshing," I murmured, and she hummed happily in response.
A quick glance at the chrono told me we still had some time, and I motioned for her to hop onto the conference room table, "Alright, love. It's your turn. And take your breasts out, if you would."
"I know how much you like playing with them, Arthur, so you don't even have to ask," Sam huffed playfully as she stood up to unzip her skirt and slid it down her legs to reveal the black pantyhose and garter belt she wore today; her deft fingers undid the buttons on her blouse, and as if she knew me or something, the brassier she wore was one of those front-clasped numbers.
Those beautiful, perky, and pale breasts were capped with cute pink nipples that were already erect, and I slipped her black panties off of her body before she placed her bottom on the conference room table. Seated in the chair I allowed myself to marvel at the gorgeous woman who was my fiance, my eyes tracking along the arch of her pantyhose-clad feet, up the graceful curves of her calves and muscular thighs, right to the plump swells of her buttocks and her glistening core; a small tuft of red hair sat perched above her clitoris where my nose would sit, and other than that her pussy was completely smooth.
One of the procedures she got done when she was in the Magistracy, which unfortunately meant that I would be forever bereft of a full womanly bush, but that was a small price to pay.
I wheeled the chair forward and slipped between her thighs, the woman raising her legs and letting her heels rest along my shoulder blades; given the time crunch I couldn't allow myself to truly play with her as I wished, but these thrice-weekly sessions were meant to take the edge off during the day. I placed my lips against her clitoris and started to warm her up while my hands reached up and grabbed her breasts, my fingers sinking into the bountiful titflesh as I gently pinched her nipples between my fingers. A soft gasp left her mouth, and her hooded eyes beckoned me to do more while her hands slid through my hair.
After a few moments of suckling, I moved my mouth down to her entrance and began to lap while my nose pressed against her clitoris, and Sam bit her lower lip as her back arched, smooshing her tits into my hands, "Yes... Arthur~."
Her womanhood was soft and supple, with tight lips that were a joy to caress; her juices were slightly bitter, which in my past life's experience was par for the course, but I didn't find it disagreeable in the slightest. She didn't have a strong scent either, of which I was thankful for because even with the cleaning products we had in her bag it took a strong agent to clean the smell of pussy from a beard.
If we were mutually stimulating each other the pleasure we wrought from our bodies would be the reward, but since we were taking turns- and my climax had cooled my lusts- the satisfaction I derived from bringing her pleasure was more in watching her body and expressions more than anything. There was a visceral feeling of pride that I felt as I watched my woman shake and tremble from my ministrations, heard her sighs and moans, and felt as she tugged at my scalp or squeezed at my head with her thighs; even the digging of her heels into my shoulder blades was a welcome sensation because it let me know that I was over the target.
Her plush lips, still pouty and full from sucking my cock, were parted as she rolled her hips, mashing my mouth harder against her sex, and after a deep lick she released my head with one hand as she gasped- that hand having to slap against the top of the table behind her to keep her torso upright, "Yes, hmmm, Arthur, just like that, love~. Just like that... I'm so close~."
My hands were forced to leave her breasts so I could get a hold of her hips to keep them from bouncing about, and though I was no longer holding onto that wonderful titflesh, seeing it jiggle, quiver, and bounce about was certainly stimulating enough. Her abdominal muscles rippled as she rocked her body back and forth, her soft moans filling my ears, "Yes, Arthur... just a little more... just a little more... I'm cumming~."
Samantha threw her head back in a wordless cry as her thighs clenched my head between them, and while it was uncomfortable to have her tugging on my hair so firmly, it wasn't painful. If anything it was a signifier of how good a job I was doing, how good I'd done.
Her breasts trembled as she pulled her chin to her chest and unlatched her thighs from my cheeks, "That was very good, dear. You're getting much better; dare I say that you'll be able to make me climax more quickly than I can you if keep progressing at this rate."
I felt my chest puff up in pride, because super brain or not, I am still a man, and making my woman climax easily and often was something that I wanted to wear as a badge of pride.
We spent the next two minutes getting redressed, and cleaning ourselves up; I let a cleaning solution- sourced from the Magistracy for just these sorts of encounters- soak into my mustache and beard while I brushed my teeth. We took turns using the small, hidden bathroom in the conference room (for those emergencies after a bad Taco Tuesday), and once we were both presentable we exited out of the room with barely a minute to spare- the two of us looking no worse for wear.
I felt loose and ready to handle the next order of business.
Baron Albrecht Duskendale and his aide Sasha Fomoire were already seated in the conference room down the hall when we arrived.
"Baron Duskendale, Miss Fomoire," I said as I entered, and I reached across the small conference table between us to shake their hands before myself and Samantha took our seats.
"No, no, the pleasure is ours," The older Baron rumbled pleasantly, his thick salt-and-pepper bushy brows dancing a touch, "Thank you for allowing us to stick around while the board finalized the details of the offer."
After the conference ended, most of the CEOs and Representatives who didn't live on New Avalon quickly retreated to their jumpships and beat feet back to their homes so that they could either start planning or bring news so that their boards could come to a decision. There were some, however, that ended up sticking around, such as Doctor Gerald Beauford and his second, Michael Collier; they brought along with them another handful of people and sent them back to Galax so that they could stick around and assist me with a personal project of mine. To wit, Baron Duskendale and his assistant stuck around as well because he was waiting on word from his board on whether or not they would take the deal I was offering for their old Centurion Aerospace Fighter line.
I'd made the initial offer almost four months ago, and after a brief message from the Baron sent via ComStar- a message that had been thoroughly scrutinized by MIIO before being sent- it appeared that they were finally ready to get off the fence.
"So, what has Jalastar Aerospace decided?"
Unlike most nobles who owned their companies outright, Jalastar was publicly owned and traded, which while it certainly gave it the funds needed to weather the storm it experienced a few years ago... it also made it vulnerable to a hostile takeover- a takeover which Federated-Boeing attempted not too long ago.
"For the rights and assembly line to the Centurion Aerospace Fighter, the company is willing to sell them to Corean Enterprises for 500 Million pounds."
I tilted my head to the side, "500 million for the rights to what is by all rights a DOA ASF design and the manufacturing equipment that has been sitting mothballed in your storehouses taking up valuable space is a bit steep. I was planning on using the line to manufacture spare parts for the aging AFFS Centurion fleets, particularly the Centurions that are part of the AFFS detachment guarding my planet. 250 Million."
The old Baron shook his head slowly, "As much as I would love to haggle, Duke Corean, and trust me, I love haggling and making deals, I unfortunately can't. Not on this. Jalastar is planning on joining the Tech Cooperative to get access to the Augusta and Henan processes, but in order to meet the security requirements that MIIO has for that we're going to need to build SCMFs and Mini-SCMFs to house them; we need the money of this sale to begin construction."
It took all I had to keep the shock from my face.
Holy shit, they were poor.
I quickly changed tack, "And how many buildings were you looking to make with this money?"
He stared at me good and hard for a moment, mulling over the question before speaking, "Two. One full-sized SCMF and one Mini-SCMF, that we can have completed by the end of 3029 if we expedite. We don't have your automation, so with the floor space and centrally located components manufacturing, we're expecting to be able to make roughly 200 Sabres per year between them."
That was... barely anything at all.
I inhaled slowly as I ran the numbers in my head; if Doctor Beauford's word was anything to go by, Federated-Boeing would be going full-hog with my advancements, dumping billions into new manufacturing facilities.
Unless something happened, Jalastar would be in danger of being swallowed up, and while it wasn't any of my business, really, as much as I liked Doctor Beauford and am glad to have a partner in Federated-Boeing, that didn't mean I wanted to see smaller, independent industry snuffed out. That way lay stagnation and decay.
Jolassa Weaponry didn't count because it was already a corpse to begin with.
"You need to diversify," I muttered, more to myself than anything else, and I nodded my head, "A counter-offer then. I will give you 250 million for the Centurion ASF Line, and will in exchange, offer you a license to the Centurion Battlemech, including tooling and full technical support, for 50 million per year for the next twenty-five years. After that period, the price will sunset and the new price per year will be 100 million."
Baron Duskendale seemed taken aback by the offer, and I continued, "With that, you'll have some diversification and a healthy level of additional income. I don't plan on doing much more with my existing Centurion lines other than maintaining sales to the AFFS as I plan on building new 'Mechs in the future."
Considering the profit margins on the Centurion were a healthy 50%, such a sale would add an additional 85 million Pounds to their bottom line each year for the first twenty-five years, and after the sunset, they would still stand to make 35 Million- though that was only if they didn't expand their Centurion lines past the initial SCMF; the more Battlemechs they produced and sold, the more they would profit.
"Done and done," Baron Duskendale shot up to his feet and shook my hand vigorously, "Dare I say you just made my day!"
"Not a problem; Corean Enterprises is all about jolly cooperation. I'll have my lawyers draw up a contract with yours and we'll sign it on the 27th."
"Smashing! Come along, Miss Fomoire, we need to get back to the hotel and tell the boys the good news!"
I was left standing there with my arms still swinging as his Secretary(?) sighed and got up to her feet, the woman bowing her head slightly, "Thank you for your time, Duke Corean."
"Not a problem," I muttered, slightly bewildered.
I don't think I've ever seen an old man move that fast before.
Deep within the bowels of one of the Corean Security hangars, I was elbow-deep inside of KGA-2B Kanga Jump Tank, a hovercraft that was unique in that it was the first and only jump capable Combat Vehicle in the Inner Sphere. Much like many of the designs that came about at the end of the Amaris Civil War, the 1st and 2nd Succession Wars lead to this vehicle dying out, with the only remaining examples existing within ComStar's stockpiles- unbeknownst to the rest of the Inner Sphere.
Arrayed to the left and right of the vehicle I was currently inside were a wide variety of Vehicles and 'Mechs that had useful systems that I wanted and needed to study. I had already pulled the Nirisaki-400X combat computer from one of the Fury tanks I recovered, and now I was pulling the Nirisaki AL2200 Track-Nav AI computer from within its protective housing inside of the Kanga; both computers were borderline AI in the Inner Sphere, and while the AL2200 provided complete control over the Jump Tank's thrusters, the 400X was a tactical computer that could reliably predict the outcome of combat with reasonably high accuracy. If the computer was fed data on the planet, highly precise map data, environmental data, numbers, and disposition of enemy and friendly forces, then the 400X could compile all of that together to come up with a plan that a high chance of victory. Most of the plans, however, were infeasible because they required pinpoint precision that wasn't possible on the battlefield, but what it did do was give savvy commanders on the ground a reasonable outline of a plan that had a high probability of working.
The biggest find wasn't a find at all, and that was a computer module from a M-5 Caspar drone that the Federated Suns recovered in secret following the end of the Amaris Civil War; it had been toyed around with by various science teams in the aftermath, but none had been able to make heads or tails of it without the Nirisaki team alive to hold their hands. So for the past few centuries, it has been sitting inside of a vac-sealed warehouse waiting for the day when someone could look at it and hopefully divine its secrets.
I didn't know if I would be the one to crack it, but considering I had the Fury and Kanga Nirisaki computers along with their manuals for the vehicles, I had a feeling that I could chip away at the Drone computer over time; if nothing else, it would be doing more good sitting in my private lab than in a MIIO warehouse.
Also within the hangar were a Lightning Hover Tank, a Gabriel Scout Car, a Beagle Hover Scout, a Magi Infantry Support Vehicle, an Ostwar, a Dunning Tactical Mobile Command Post,a Royal Mobile HQ, a Royal MASH vehicle, and Royal Marauder. They had advanced communications equipment, Beagle Active Probes, Guardian ECMs, Mobile Tactical Computers and High Definition holotanks, advanced Star League medical equipment, and the Marauder had ER-PPCs that I wanted to crack open.
While my teams already had plenty of examples of ER Weaponry from the small cache we found on the Corean Gem, my Duchy's Recharge Station, most of it was donated to the AFFS; I was just curious to see if there was any differences I could spot between the ER-PPCs we found in the cache and what was loaded onto a Royal Marauder. They were also different manufacturers, so getting to glean some tips and tricks there would make my future PPCs mo' better. The Lighting, however, was being studied because of its advanced hover stability system, as despite being able to maneuver at 184 kilometers per hour, the Lightning was noted to be exceptionally forgiving and easy to pilot for a hovercraft.
"You got it?" I asked one of my Astechs, the young man wearing an exo skeleton that was equipped with a long tray; I had disconnected the A2200 computer and was now ready to slide it out.
"I see it, Mister Corean. It's on the tray, and I'm ready to start moving back."
"Alright, bring yourself back. Baby steps. Slowly. Slowly. Thats it. Nice and easy," I coaxed the lad, and thankfully he followed my instructions to the letter, the heavy vac-stack brought out an inch at a time until I spoke again, "Alright, stop. Hold right there."
I stuck my penlight between my teeth as I placed a thick padded cushion over the top of the computer stack and then began wrapping it tightly with a wide strap. Once I felt that it was secure, I took the light from my teeth, "Alright, go ahead and take the tray over to the truck."
While he walked away with the expensive computer balanced in the claws of the exo skeleton, I grabbed the manual and tucked the penlight between my teeth as I picked up the hand tools and started to put the A2200's housing back together. The TM-135 (Technical Manual) didn't have a Work Package for putting the housing back together, but it was easy enough to follow the steps to take it apart in reverse.
Twelve T37 screws go in the twelve T37 screw holes. Reattached crossbars A39 and A40 back to their proper places with eight T37 screws. Skip the cable connection phase since the computer has been removed. Reattach the bracing panel with six T37 screws. Reinstall the Power Supply and Coolant Pump panel with eight T55 screws; this one was a bitch because you had to hold the panel up while trying to align the holes, though once you got one screw started the rest were easy. Reconnect the coolant lines to the pump and cinch tight with the 454A Coolant Hose Clamp. Skip the data/power harness step for the Jump Avionics system because the computer has been removed... and the last thing to do was put the right-angled panel back on and pop it back into place.
I sighed happily as I surveyed my workspace to make sure that I didn't have any 'extra' screws, and when I was clear I was very pleased.
Anyone could fix almost anything in the Inner Sphere if they had the tech manual and the proper tools. There were, of course, exceptions to this rule, and in order to read a tech manual you had to be able to read, and if you didn't have the proper tools then you were sort of screwed or forced to make your own if you could... but on the whole, the rule still held.
In my humble opinion, Astechs were the best Techs to have working on your shit while fully-fledged and seasoned Techs were the worst. The Astechs were always fearful of fucking something up, and because of that they constantly checked the manual for every single Work Package. The seasoned Techs said "I've done this work package a thousand times, Guvna', I don't need to reference the manual. The actuators on a Centurion are the same as the actuators on every other Battlemech. Now, did this require CM-107 chrome moly grease or CM-119? Bah, they're the same viscosity, so what does it matter?"
That was one of the hardest habits I had to beat out of my Techs once I took over. The New Avalon office alone had twelve thousand qualified Techs with seventeen thousand Astechs, and I had to host seminars on "Why you need to read the manual EVERY TIME"... and fire more than a few who felt that they had too many years of experience to read the manual.
Tunes changed once I told them to pack their shit, but by that point, it was too late and they were already being escorted to the Admin building to collect their last paycheck with their shit in cardboard boxes.
I had a perfect memory and I still read the manuals, and I was the boss, ergo, read the fucking manuals.
I damn near had to throw Fahad Arazad and his ship techs out of the refit Hangars the first day when I got word from my Techs that they were attempting to engine swap Captain Yuri Wanko's fusion reactor from a 260 down to a 250 in accordance with the new designs she made up using the Mechlab... without the fucking manual.
It was during my thorough ass-chewing that I came to find out that they didn't even have a Tech Manual for a Catapult! At all!
So I had Samantha reach out to MIIO to rustle up a CPLT Tech Manual, because I knew MIIO had some they were sitting on somewhere, and we put the whole rebuild on hold until we got one.
Fahad Arazad was an exceptional Mech Tech, and the small crew he had with him was just as good, but that shit wasn't going to fly with me.
We had words, Ryana was brought in to have words, and Mason stood off to the side with his arms crossed and a perpetually amused expression on his face as he watched his Chief Tech and myself verbally duke it out in a break room off to the side.
In the end, Mason put an end to it, thank fuck.
"Why are you complaining, Fahad? Just do as the man asks. We're using his equipment, his bays, and he's paying for it. I don't gainsay you when we're on the ship- your house, your rules. However, we're in Corean's House, so it's Corean's rules."
God, I remember Fahad being more than a bit opinionated in the DLCs, but this was borderline insanity.
Regardless, Mason had just started planning out the rebuild for his father's 'Mech, and once he and I started working on it hopefully I'd be able to find the data or computer chip that his father stashed away inside; everything had been working out so far to my knowledge, but only time would tell if this held out as well.
I really wanted the Mechs in that Star League cache for the Commonwealth, and I really, really wanted that Library Core; the chances of it containing knowledge that the Helm and Graus Cores didn't have was high enough to make it a priority for me and for Corean Enterprises.
The sounds of metal scraping against ferrocrete caught my attention, and I looked back to see the Astech approaching.
"We good to hook, Miller?"
The young man nodded, "Uh, yeah, bossman. The stuff is all loaded up and ready for transport."
"Excellent," I climbed out of the back of the hover tank and double-checked my tool belt to make sure everything was where it needed to be before dusting my hands off on my apron, "Say, you're coming up for your Level III AS certifications here soon, right, Miller?"
He blinked in surprise, as if not expecting his boss to know anything about him other than the name tape stitched to the sleeve of his work suit, "Uh, yeah, the end of the month. Bossman."
I placed my hands on my hips and nodded, "Alright then, talk to Frank and have him give you two paid days off prior to the certification exam. Study hard, get that Level III, and we'll what we can do to get you started on crosstraining with 'Battlemechs early."
Battlemechs weren't usually seen by Astechs until they were deep into their Level IV certifications, but having spent the last few hours casually observing the kid's work ethic if he can hack the exam and pass it on the first try then that would be good enough for me.
"Oh! Uh, thank you, bossman! That will help a lot."
I patted him on the shoulder as I passed, "Just remember to read the damn manual, Miller, and you'll do just fine."
"R-right! Uh, Fran- Mister Delanore! The bossman wants-"
Whatever else was being said was drowned out by the rumbling of an ICE engine as I closed the distance between myself and the 5-ton truck that was going to haul my newfound loot to the Admin complex where I could stuff it into my personal labs.
So much good stuff!
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A/N: Got this belted out today, so I was feeling pretty good, all things considered.