The Galactic Spannin Corporation - Forward Into The Void

[Mantrid Brizon]

Chapter 1: The Failed Syndicated.

Five months after the battle of Lagos, George Woods sits in his quarters, wrapping his face with his now trademark shemagh; a thin, large square of lightweight cloth worn in various ways by desert dwelling colonists. He looks over Michael’s research, something he had been doing for weeks. After the failing of The Woods Syndicate, George was left with little to do but maintain Lagos Depot and entertain himself. The Woods Syndicate lasted all of a month before the constant struggle to turn a profit got the better of them.

James had since left Lagos Depot and collected his family where he moved to, and began, living a quiet life on planet Los Angeles. Selling his and Erica’s ships, he purchased a CT-49X “Gull” Civilian Transport, which he uses to make short trade runs for spending credits; effectively retired from the criminal life. Zane had been promoted to a ship Captain, with the proceeds of the sale of the Baychimo and the salvaged parts of the other Slaver ships being used to help purchase his ship of choice, a Rheinland 568-ARKG-B6 “Behemoth” Transport.

What few pilots they were able to recruit were killed by vigilantes, arrested, or simply quit. Many of the Lagos guards were killed during the Slaver War and the Woods brothers were unable to replace many of them. All that remained was Lagos Depot, which no longer served an unlawful purpose; it had been relegated to being the home of George Woods, Harvey Crippen, Zane, and the few remaining Lagos guards and Depot crew, many of whom were bored out of their minds.

George Woods ties the end of the shemagh together and begins browsing stocks on his computer; another hobby he began in order to pass the time in between ordering supplies for Lagos Depot. As he searches, he notices a new stock option posted, a company called “The Galactic Spanning Corporation”. Curious, George begins to research the company.

Only having recently gone public, The Galactic Spanning Corporation had been formed just a few years prior in 820 A.S. in the Coronado system on New Hope East by a man named Martin Richardson, a native of the Colonial Republic. Intrigued by their listed goals of expanding legitimate civilian business for the Colonials, as well as building their infrastructure, George decided to follow this corporation, keeping an eye on their stocks.

He continued to watch the company’s stocks during the following weeks. At first, The Galactic Spanning Corporation (often abbreviated as GalSpan) saw a rise in stock prices. Within a few weeks however, a company with very little real direction began to run out of the funds generated by turning the company public and selling its shares. The value of GalSpan shares began to plummet as many of the original backers, including founder and CEO Martin Richardson, sold them off as quickly as they could. From the outside looking in, it appeared as though GalSpan was about to be liquidated and its assets sold off to any other company willing to buy them.

George felt somewhat akin to the company, considering his checkered past and history as an underdog. “If James can go legit, maybe I can too.” He thought to himself. Researching the rate of the declining value of the shares, he took a gamble and waited. “If this rate continues…” He thought to himself, “GalSpan shares will decrease to fifty credits per share. With James’ combined assets, we should be able to buy a majority vote in the company.”

George began researching the plight of the Colonial Republic, namely the Yuma situation. He was shocked by the sheer cost, and the amount of food that they were forced to import as a result of being incapable of providing their own agriculture. Sitting back, he began thinking of potential solutions himself, and drafted a daring phased plan.

Once he was certain he was ready, he waited. Within a few short days, the shares had dropped to below the cost that he required, and no one was buying them. Cracking his knuckles, he sat at his deck and began typing. He sent James an encrypted message calling for him to return to Lagos Depot an important meeting; a plan for a new business venture that could set them both up for life.

At his home on planet Los Angeles, James Woods is taking a nap on his couch with his son Dallas when his wife Erica returns home from shopping. As she sets down the groceries and begins packing them away in the cupboards, Dallas wakes up and rolls off of James. He happily walks up to his mother as James starts to wake up as well, sitting up on the couch. Erica leans over and picks up their son, kissing and hugging him.

“How was your day?” James asks as he walks up to Erica and Dallas.
“Uneventful. Jogged around the park and picked up some groceries. I bought those nice luxury stakes you like so much.” Erica replied, gently bouncing Dallas in her arms.

James leans in and kisses his wife and son, then walks off to his study. Sitting at his computer, he logs on and sees a series on new messages, including one from his brother George. Smiling, he opens the message and reads. Minutes later he rushes back into the living room where Erica has finished putting away the groceries. Closing their refrigerator, she turns to him as he grabs his leather coat off of the rack by the front door.

“What’s wrong, James?” She asks.
“George sent me a message. It’s the first one he sent me in months. He has an idea for some sort of business arrangement.” He replies.
“James…” Erica hesitantly replies. “We have a good life already. We have a luxury apartment, good food and nice clothes, a ship, plenty of extra credits for our son’s future. We don’t need any more of his schemes.”
“Babe… He’s my brother, and besides… It gets me out of the house.” James says with a smile as he slips his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.
“Like the ‘Woods Syndicate’ did?” She says in a sarcastic tone.
“Look…” James begins. “That wasn’t entirely his fault. A lot of it was mine, for taking too much time off and losing my motivation.” He says walking up to her. “He can’t do everything himself, can he?”
“You shouldn’t be penalized for having a family.” Erica adds, shifting to place Dallas in front of James.
“I’m not. I just want to see what he has to say. If it’s another criminal enterprise, I’ll pass. I promise.”
“You better.” She says as James opens up the door.
“Promise!”

James closes the door and walks down the hall. Making his way to the mooring point, he boards his transport ship. His new CT-49X was more than enough to earn the spare credits needed to maintain the lifestyle that he, his wife and son were now accustomed too. Sitting at the forward control panel, he activates a small beacon, contacting his crew. Standing up, he walks to his post near the rear of the cabin. Reaching down, he pulls out a bottle of red liqueur. He takes his seat, pours himself a full glass, and waits.

George paces the docking hub excitedly as he awaits James’ arrival. Within an hour, James’ ship approaches Lagos Depot and begins to moor. A loud clank echoes throughout the docking hub as the ship mates with the locking ring just past the outer airlock doors. Seconds pass and George’s excitement builds as he watches the airlock doors slowly open; first the ships, then Lagos Depot’s.

“Hey there, bro!” James calls out as he waves, quickly walking up to George.
“It’s good to see you, James. It’s been too long.” George replies as the brothers embrace.
“It has. I wish I could see you too. You’re still wearing that thing?” James asks, reaching out and grabbing a lose piece of George’s shemagh wrap. “You know, it’s really not all that bad. Some women really like scars.” James laughs.
“Yeah, well… I kind of like it. It really unnerves the weaker among us, when they can’t see my face.” George replies with a chuckle.

Motioning for James to follow him, they walk up the ramp and out of the docking hub. An uneasy silence hovers over the two as they walk down the long corridor, turn a corner, then another, and walk until they arrive at the conference room. George opens the doors and steps inside.

“Care for a drink?” He asks as he steps up to the mini-bar.
“No thanks. I had one back on my ship on the way over here. I try not to drink to excess anymore.” James replies as he pulls out a chair.
“Interesting… How things have changed, hm?”
“Yeah…” James examines George’s shemagh as he takes a seat across from him. “Have you ever thought of putting a straw under that thing?”

They both chuckle lightly as George pulls out a remote control from a drawer built into the table. Pointing it at the wall to his right, he presses a button and a projector beams a holographic image.

“This is GalSpan; short for ‘The Galactic Spanning Corporation’.” George begins as an unfamiliar logo glows, just in front of the wall.
“I’ve never heard of them.” James rests his cheek on his right hand as he leans back and to the right, looking over the logo. “Nice colors though.”
“Indeed. Most people probably haven’t, and if we don’t act soon, they probably never will.” George continues, leaning back to his left and turning the chair slightly to face the wall. “This company is based out of Coronado.”
“Are they legitimate?” James asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be?” George replies with an irritated tone.
“Alright. Just asking.”
“Right. So they’re based out of Coronado. They were founded in 820 A.S. by this man…” George presses a button, displaying an image of a man in his mid-30s over the wall. “Martin Richardson. His original goal was to build a civilian company, not related to the Colonial Republic military, and provide jobs in industries that focused on rebuilding the Colonial infrastructure.”
“I see… So what do they do?” James asks, seemingly uninterested.
“At the moment, they don’t seem to do anything. They spend the first year and a half just building capital, and then once they hired a workforce, they never actually produced anything. They have a single branch that seems to be devoted to construction, but no contracts.” George answers.
“And this didn’t seem strange to you?”
“I know what you’re thinking, James. It’s not a front. They aren’t reporting profits, so it’s not laundering credits for some crew.”
“And why are we interested in them?” James asks with a sigh, still leaning on his right hand.

“Because…” George begins, pressing another button on the remote. “One of their originally stated goals is to solve, or help solve, the situation with the indigenous flora on planet Yuma and help the Colonials colonize.” The hologram displays a collage of images; the plant life on planet Yuma, a new clipping from the original, primitive GalSpan page, a history of the failed DSE project.

James leans forward and stares at the wall, looking over the news clippings and images.

“This is all very interesting, but I don’t see what we can do about it.”

“James…” George lets out a frustrated sigh and lowers his head. “Where’s your ambition? Did you leave it with your balls in your wife’s purse?”
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?” James growls back.
“There’s potential here. The company has gone public, and their backers are pulling out.” George presses the button again, showing a line chart of the stock history. “The price is practically dropping by the minute!”
“It’s dropping because they’re screwed, George.” James laughs.
“And so it would seem, to people who don’t have the skills or knowledge that we possess…” George answers back.

He presses the button once more, revealing another line chart. The chart contains a series of phases and a timeline, revealing a step by step plan to turn GalSpan into a profitable business, as well as to solve the situation on planet Yuma. James is suddenly intrigued. He sits upright, resting both hands on the armrests, and leans towards the wall. He looks over the phases, reading and then re-reading them. He stops when he comes across the phase regarding planet Yuma.

“What’s your plan for the situation on planet Yuma? A lot of people have tried to figure this one out already…” James says, looking over at George.
“Simple...” George begins, holding the remote between the palms of his open hands. “I believe that the plant life on Yuma has an enzyme that accelerates their growth. By researching sample in zero gravity, I hope to target and examine the enzyme. Once we understand it better, we can hopefully come up with a toxin that will halt or kill the enzyme without being toxic to humans, or the flora as a whole.”
“Impressive!” James says with a smile.
“Thank you, but it doesn’t stop there.” George says as he sets down the remote on the table. “Once we have mastered control of the enzyme, I’d like to see what happens if we genetically modify it into common agricultural plants. If it gives them the same properties, which is certainly the optimistic scenario, we can clear patches of land of Yuma, spray the surrounding area to prevent the flora from overgrowing the farmland, then planting these new crops. The quickly growing produce could easily become a surplus, even with a few smaller farms, and so long as GalSpan owns the rights… And we hold the majority of GalSpan’s shares… Do you see where I’m going with this?” George says in a snarky tone.

George grabs the remote and presses a different button, shutting off the hologram. He slips the remote back into the drawer and sits back in his chair. James leans back and they sit in silence for a moment. Suddenly James stands up and walks towards the mini-bar.

“Okay. I think I do need a drink. In a good way though.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” George chuckles.
“So what do we do after that? Do we just sell produce for the rest of our lives?” James asks as he pours a glass of straight scotch.
“WE don’t do anything once it takes off. GalSpan, however, is a multi-faceted company. Even if they aren’t, as majority shareholders, we have control. We can expand the construction division and build housing and modular buildings for the colonists, or search out raw minerals to be mined, and the combat pilots in GalSpan’s security division can contract out. Maybe we suggest they construct a shipyard in Coronado somewhere and complete contracts for the Colonial Republic, or the civilian market? The possibilities are endless.” George rants.
“So what do you need from me?” James asks, sitting back down in his chair. He sips his scotch as he watches George intently.
“Well, aside from your personal approval…” George says, clasping his hands together. “Financial help to buy up their stocks. At the current cost, we can easily purchase at least 70% of the company, if not more. I can afford 53% on my own, but I want to cut you in.”

James looks back at the blank wall, then at George, and finally at his glass. Tilting his head back, he chugs the remaining contents, then gently sets the glass down.

“Well?” George asks as he sits as still as a statue.
“Well… I think Erica’s going to kill me when I get home.” James says with a laugh.
“She’ll forget all about it once we see our first profits.” George says, reaching over the table.

James reaches out and shakes his brother’s extended hand.

“And so it begins…” James jokes.

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