| abstract | - Fishy Business is a magazine story.
- Fishy Business is an act of infamy that can be found in Polynesia at the start of the game with no plotting. It has a risk of 1 and requires 3 workers in the region and has a duration of 30 second. Once completed it will generate 10 heat with the alliance tha owns the region and will provide 5 notoriety.
- A female G'ahnli--though it's hard to tell the difference--waits as the Saviour's Haste comes to rest on the pad. After a few moments, the landing thrusters shut off, and there's a noise in the general hustle and bustle of the pad of the Haste cooling down after her entry. The boarding ramp extends and the airlock opens revealing a man in an unknown military uniform. The man strides down the pad, the airlock closing again behind him as he approaches the tank of the female. He gives a small nod, his voice, deep emotionless, akin to the sentient fish's own synthesiser, "You're my welcoming party I assume? I half expected guards." The pounding rain obscures everything much further than thirty or forty feet away. "We decided that showing too much interest in your arrival would be, hrml, unwise," the G'ahnli answers. Her translator uses a clear female tone, unaccented. "Please come with me." Outlook Club - G'ahnlo The Outlook Hotel, on the fifth level of Ulbahno Subcity's main concourse, is the finest lodging in the city; the Outlook Club, which forms its first floor, is the one of the most opulent bars on G'ahnlo, and one of the few allowed a space against the city's dome. The architecture follows the same motif set outside, with walls, formed from floor to ceiling fishtanks, curving gently to meet the expanse of the dome the club abuts against. Outside, fish float up to the glass and into the connected tanks in an elaborate dance, catching the light and glittering. Perhaps a hundred tables and booths are scattered around the room, separated by planters bearing terrestrial flowers and shrubs. The lighting is diffuse, provided by panels set into the numerous water-filled pillars around the room; within the pillars, small fish dart around slowly waving sea plants. Dark, richly-grained wood, undulating closer to and further from the club's inner wall, forms the Outlook Club's bar, and ornately-carved stools stand along its length. Cabinets and shelves behind it hold almost every liquor and fermented drink imaginable, Specialists in sharp uniforms tending bar. Gilt doors lead to the club's kitchen, and a bank of elevators near the front entrance provide passage to the hotel's lobby. Wed Mar 08 16:24:30 3006 +LHELP Available Contents: Exits: Holoviewer - 1031 Main Concourse Jeff Ryan nods and follows the G'ahnli, until they arrive at the Outlook Club, as they enter the man smiles to himself. The G'ahnli leads to the back corner of the establishment, slipping into a booth-- one side has space for a G'ahnli hovertank, and the other is for a normal-sized humanoid. The G'ahnli waits for Jeff to seat himself, and then turns on the privacy field, surrounding the booth in a refractive shell which cuts the sound from outside to a muted whisper. As he takes the seat and the privacy field switches on the lunite smiles to himself, "I'm glad you understand the need for a quiet meeting, my appointment at this time is strictly confidential." "Be assured that our only concern is for our image," the G'ahnli answers dryly. "I am Public Accountant Plorubo. Ulbahno has spoken with its associates, and have given me the power to speak for them. What, ubrl, is your business?" "I am here on behalf of Governor Seale of New Luna," says Ryan. The man gets right down to business, "I've already spoken with the Xeter of the Freehold, they're willing to nominate us for entrance into OATO. What we want to know is if you'll support us." "While companies associated with Ulbahno have, ubrl, invested rather heavily in New Luna," Plorubo states carefully, "we are not certain what we stand to gain from supporting such a measure, if it does not succeed." "I'm doing my utmost to make sure it succeeds," says Ryan. The voice is without emotion, but the eyes hold plenty. Determination. "And if you've invested heavily, it would be in your interest to help us succeed, without strong alliances, without some form of defence, whether it be in arms, political or economic, our world is ripe for the plucking. The Solar Republic, having taken over Luna, might be tempted to claim New Luna as well after having absorbed Luna's government during the fallout from the Moebius Waves. It would make losing Deserata less sore." He shakes his head, "Sivad also seems to be showing an interest and we're worried after what happened on Waldheim and their later conquering of Deserata, they might be tempted to expand their empire." He leans back in the chair, "Of course where you want this to go is up to you." "We have considered the possible consequences of each course of action we may take at this crossroads," Plorubo replies. "Perhaps a better question is, ubrl, what do we have to lose if the measure fails? The trade is, as the subcities see it, a possible increase in security, or a possible decrease." The man smiles grimly, "At worst, if this measure fails, someone WILL move in. My people show a tendency to split in two when this happens. One half will accept the conquest, the other half will rebel and fight against it. The second half usually loses if you look at our history, and sometimes we win, but there's always blood and destruction behind it. You do not wish to see New Luna become like Luna herself." It's not a question, it's a simple statement. "My homeworld is the model you should examine in the worst case scenario. I think you'll agree, there's not a lot of profit there." "You discuss worst-case scenarios, ubrl," Plorubo says, "which, while always best to plan for, do not always occur. Our investment in New Luna is little more than a test for a new industry here-- though perhaps a lucrative test. While those who foolishly risked everything to support a single venture may lose out, those who are properly diversified will survive, ubrl-- and the strong will move on." The G'ahnli pauses. "As of yet, you have not said anything that we have not considered." "You don't believe stability on New Luna will allow your venture survive?" asks the lunite genuinely curious. "And that's what I'm trying to bring about. A more stable New Luna will mean more investment, more profit, and the only way to guarantee that safety is entry into OATO." "I repeat that the investments G'ahnli have made into New Luna are only part of a larger plan," replies Plorubo. "A noncritical aspect. I will relay to the corporate leaders what you have said. You may expect me with the delegation at OATO." Ryan furrows his brow, the man is obviously thinking, "Doesn't that larger plan involve having a world to invest in?" Plorubo's fleshy lips roll back in mimicry of a human smile. "You are still thinking too small, ubrl." The man shakes his head, "I never think small, I'm no good at it." He glances at the tank, trying to mask a hint of suspicion growing in his mind. "Oh, you are thinking large," the G'ahnli allows. "Simply not large enough. Mr. Ryan, we do understand your position, and even moreso, our own. We simply have not committed to supporting you." "Is it within the interests of the corporate leaders that New Luna remains alone and without allies?" asks Ryan, his jaw is tightening and an anger is hinted at in his eyes. Not in his voice, never in his voice. "Is it within your interests to alienate them?" Plorubo inquires in return. "Do you think they aren't watching? You have accomplished all that you will with this conversation, Mr. Ryan." The man stands and sighs, "I apologise, but you're not exactly forthcoming about your own plans for the world I represent." He motions towards the privacy field, "And my people are more than a little concerned when people seem to have plans involving them, we've not had the best experience with larger powers." "We have little reason to be forthright," answers Plorubo. "But rest assured that our intentions toward New Luna are not in the least malicious. You may inform your governer that we will send an emmissary within the week detailing our final decision." "Thank you," says Ryan nodding. "We need all the help we can get." "You will understand if I do not offer to escort you back to your ship," Plorubo remarks. "My position as Public Accountant requires that I refrain from acting in ways which might be seen to favor certain positions." Jeff Ryan nods at that, and giving a small bow takes his leave of the female.
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