Bowex InfoNet (inRP)

[beunt]

[Date : 04/09/18, 08.37 pm]
[Place : New London Borderworld Export HQ, shareholders meeting]

The applauses that greeted Ian Wills' warming speech were now slowly fading, until they finally melt with the ambient chats, whispers and chuckles among the guests. Although numbers, statistics and strategic talks are usually at the core of such meetings, it became a custom to wrap them into a formal party to keep attendees relaxed, and jolly. Lowered benefits in some activities are better aknowledged with a flute of wine in the hand, not mentioning the war to forget, at least for a few hours.

While he was informally chatting with Miss Harlow, who almost passed out for despair after the twentiest figure of first trismester results show, Roy felt a hand on his shoulder. Leaning slightly his head back, he heard his assistant, Carla, whispering something to him.

"-Sir, it's about time now."
"-Oh dear", replying to his guest, "they eventually got me ! Well madam, if you don't mind..."
"-Oooh Robert please. You know I will never blame you for this. Come on, your audience is waiting for you my dear."
"-Ah, I perfectly know you wont madam. But still, if you miss me too much you may blame Carla for this instead !" said Roy in a laugh, while wrapping an arm around Carla's shoulder.
"-What a monster you are, I'll blame you anyway if so !"
"-He he right, so charming she is..." agreed Robert, slightly pinching his assistant butt cheeks. She twitched a bit, but kept her corporate smile nonetheless.

From the corner of his eyes, Roy caught Wills silently urging him to move on.
"-Well, the duty is calling me again. Later, my ladies".
"-Thank god at last you depart !" chuckled Harlow. "Yes, see you later."
"-Good luck, sir", formally added Carla. Her blackened gaze wasn't enforcing her words at all, but he winked back to her anyway. And then he turned back and walked toward the speakers platform.

Approximately sixty selected vip were attending tonight, and from his point of view Robert could see them all, from mister Hunttington, hugging the buffet, as usual, to Sir Mac Hillworth, who fell asleep in the back of the conference room, as usual. Roy first cleared his throat to gather their attention again, then after silence settled in the room, he filled the scene with a loud voice, coloured with the slight remains of his libertonian accent :

"-Ladies and gentlemen, Lords, Sirs, Knights and fellows,

I remember it happened once, not so long ago, that the whole head of our company once again fled from our offices for an escapade in some dangerous spaces, already crowded, not yet ruled, and therefore favourable for flourishing business. Some would say, we are not supposed to lead Borderworld Export on the field, but rather by sitting our desks. And of course, most of the time we gladly do so. Still it became our favourite sport, since fortunately there is no more horses on Leeds to practise that boring polo thing. Dear BMM fellows, I owe you one."

Roy paused as some light or forced chuckles raised in the back.

"-So as I said, we were back to Bretonia, heading to Liberty, with hauls filled with fine gallian tobacco, when we received an interesting information on our party channel : it seemed that a Hogosha heavy vessel got lost in Dublin and, with the common rudeness of them all, was asking the miners around an outrageous contribution to his fuel expenses for his way back. I let you imagine the dilema among our cotery : should we have stick to the money plan to Pittsburg, or politely show the kusarian the nearest exit ? And at some point, one voice, namely Matthew Roberts' one, raised above all : we don't we do both ?

Why. Don't. We. Do. Both. This is exactly what we did. And this is exactly what Borderworld Export is about : why shouldn't we have it all ? Since it foundation in 66 A.S., Borderworld Export never deviated from it's purpose, that is exploration, discovery, expansion, and profit for Bretonia, for ourselves, and for the bunch of greedy shareholders you all are of course !"

Chuckles again, although Wills and his natural reserve strongly suggested him to stop being so colloquial. Roy nodded before resuming his talk.

"- Well, having it all. This vision, Roberts for sure totally get it. A true bretonian at heart, dedicated to profit and the Queen - god bless her-, Roberts also proved his skills numerous times since then. Sharp businessman, brave and charismatic captain, gifted with an extensive knowledge of all routes and all trades in half of the galaxy, our best contact to Rheinlander goldsmiths, he performed the most dangerous deliveries, cheated death countless times, and still can count his sales profit after two bottles of whiskey. Not forgetting his capital role in some of our most important contracts, and in the set up of rescue operation for the Empress Mathilda, lost to the corsairs' claws. Few men can brag about such qualities and past.

But, above all of this, Roberts have this vision we share, and the pugnacity that Borderworld Export seek and need to make our future even brighter. For this all and as such, it's a true pleasure and honour for me to announce his promotion to the grade of department manager, and his access to the inner circle of Borderworld Export. So let's all congratulate our new peer, and raise our glasses to his very promising career. Come on Matthew, come to me old chap !"

Applauds and cheers thundered again as Roy left the platform and walked toward his collegue and friend with arms open wide.

"-Welcome in the family, my friend."

Roy huged him, both of them surronded with congratulations and the deafening noise of clapped rich hands. Then, the orchestra raised it's voice and the chats ran again. Once Roberts was done with all the casual handshakes in such circumstances, Roy took him closer again. And he whispered :

"-Now Matthew, you really should take a couple of weeks of hollidays. Because when you'll be back, we'll transmit you the files. No, not thoses files. The other files."

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