007. Let´s go, and no whining about the rain!
Hands held parallel to either side of his head straight up.
Body like a pin, beer belly jiggling gently.
Leaning to the left, bending like a leaf in the wind, then leaning right.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
He sing-songed gently.
The traditional 'I fucked up' dance was a tradition he was upholding.
Swaying side to side as he did so, meditating on just how badly he had fucked up.
Seriously, what the fuck.
He thought a cheap, shitty gun in the science fiction of the future would have been ignored. Who would want a single shot, cartridge fed gun that didn't have an autoloader?
A lot of people.
A fucking lot of people.
In fact, it would more of a question how people didn't want a cheap gun that could be made anywhere in the Inner Sphere without complex machinery or automation. The very things that had been lost in the Inner Sphere after the collapse of the Star League and scientists started dying because of people dressed in suspiciously plain clothes. Usually people vital to certain industries or on the verge of scientific breakthroughts.
It was actually kind of suspicious... no wait.
He was meditating on how badly he had fucked up.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
It was surprising just how much information was readily available thanks to Dobless Information Services.
Wait. Focus.
So. When there was technological decline, there was in fact, a need for cheap weapons that could be manufactured on-site, without the worry of a long logistical chain.
Especially important when a lack of jumpships was one of the major challenges facing the Inner Sphere.
In other words, he had produced a good enough gun, that was mass produceable on any planet in the Inner Sphere with a working metallurgy industry. Anywhere that had a worry of things wearing armour coming to cause them trouble would be interested in the gun.
The literal thousands of people that were here to gather blueprint designs off the gun-making machinery was a rather rude slap to the face. Every three to four of them represented a corporation. That's a fucking lot of corporations interested. How could he have been so blind?
He had fuuuuuucked up.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
The only saving grace being that they were there to get the measurements from the machines, not buying guns from his personally. Or worse, measuring his machines, he wouldn't have been able to take it if they did.
As his body continued to sway left and right, Huu pondered just where it was that he had gone wrong.
Ah.
Right.
Reddit.
Trusting reddit was where he had gone wrong.
Rifles weren't actually useful in the Inner Sphere his wobbly left butt cheek. ~insert obnoxious voice here~ nobody will use a rifle when they can just use autocannons
Trusting reddit was where he had gone wrong, never again!
Not that it was all that important when reddit didn't exist here.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
So.
He had identified the reason as for failure.
His losses were profits. Not turning into profits.
Were profits.
Everything had turned against him, which was that which promoted this self-analysis of failure.
The sheds, in hindsight were far larger than they needed to be. He had thought that was normal.
No!
It was for expansion with more machine parts!
More parts, more machinists, more workers to lug things around. Which meant the machinists could focus on their work and increase productivity.
Fifteen workers had bloomed into one hundred and fifty machinists, one hundred regular labourers.
One set of machines into ten.
Production at 750 guns and carriers a month.
In other words, two months after the factory had opened, he had around 900,000kr in profits.
Which translated to 900kr in his personal accounts if this were to continue.
The local militia were buying the sets as they came off the production line. Enterprising corporations were already building factories nearby his own with their own Haber–Bosch reactors. Producing nitrogen from the air, while at the same time pulling in the other minerals for gunpowder from the surrounding areas. The treated sewage waste, mining by-products... all were being used to establish ammunition factories to meet the projected demand.
In other words, he had fucked up.
His base assumptions were wrong.
Everything was not going well at all.
All he could see in the future was profits.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
It was clear now that he had barely any idea how war production actually worked. It was an intelligent person who admitted they were wrong, an even more intelligent person to realise they knew nothing about a topic. He considered himself intelligent.
Trying to meddle further with military production might result in an even more ridiculous level of profit.
The solution then, was to admit he knew nothing and choose an area that he knew a bit more about.
Infrastructure!
He didn't know everything of course, but the basics were still the same. Specifically, the fact that infrastructure was funded by taxes and other streams of revenue, that were gathered by the government.
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
Without a tax base or a population paying you tribute, trying to maintain infrastructure would rely on illegal methods i.e. company towns... or relied on you making a loss to fund it.
The profits gained from the improvements and maintenance of infrastructure were to society as a whole, hence governments funding it. But if a private corporation funded infrastructure... wouldn't that mean that he would lose all his money while everyone else reaped the profits!?
...
No warning...
Was it acceptable to use his funds to fund infrastructure improvements relating to his business...
No warning.
Was it acceptable to use his funds to fund infrastructure for Lott's Revenge...
++ System Warning Issued. System funds can only be used on the Tycoon's company. As a Tycoon you are trying to make money, not run a government! ++
Right.
So.
Less ambitious with the infrastructure plans, but he could still go through with them. He had seen the constant news reports in his past life, how they were all over budget, how they were costing millions extra, how they took years extra to complete because of issues during construction.
While not a construction engineer or someone that received a diploma in construction management like some he knew, the fact of the matter was that infrastructure construction was a way to lose money if you were the government.
He had 3 months left in this cycle, projected profits kept rising as more machines were being produced... to make more guns... and it wasn't like he had a good excuse to explain why he wanted them to stop. The System could not be exposed. Saying he wanted to cut back production would raise very serious questions about why he wasn't trying to make money.
What if they were raided? There had been one a few years previous, stopping production was basically treason!
Especially since this was the Lyran Commonwealth.
That and this was the Lyran Commonwealth (he had to repeat this). Making money was the biggest concern here!
~I fucked up, I fucked up~
At this point, it was clear. He knew nothing about military matters and would be making very sure to consult with people who actually knew what they were doing before he tried something like this again. Going half-cocked was what caused him to fail this time.
The solution?
Ask an expert for their opinions... then do the complete opposite!
But right now he was running triage, he would be doing something that was guaranteed to lose money before this cycle spiralled irrevocably out of control.
Infrastructure!
Everything else could wait, he needed to turn those profits into losses as soon as possible.
And the people.
Wait the people.
People... his people.
Benefits?
Wasn't it a common thread on reddit that paying employees was the most expensive part of any enterprise? If it was just paying workers... then what about their benefits? What about medical considerations? Housing? Food?
Yes!
This was what he was looking for.
Infrastructure, but for his people!
They were already making money... but they couldn't make him more money! It's like one of those charts he had to do a lot of times in ATAR economics. When input side factors are fixed, it doesn't matter how much you add to them, the output side will maintain the same level of production.
More inputs is basically wasting money!
Or something.
It doesn't matter, the principle is the same.
How's that for a meditation session!?
~I solved the fuck up, I solved the fuck up~
+_+
Sille M. Villadsen nee Mardsen was back at Eggers Armaments.
Standing beside Huu Eggers, his mask on his face, Sille was trying to contain her expression of joy.
His concentration was clear, the camera catching it like Reefjaw fish caught the toes of toddlers and then... wait. No. Not relevant, keep the red water out of your thoughts Sille.
Hunched shoulders, left hand rubbing his temples as his glasses made a spirited effort to fall off his face. Huu was thinking and thinking hard.
His success had seen his fame catapult throughout the Lyran Commonwealth. Word was, that Archon Alessandro Steiner was paying attention. Which could be good or bad, but in the end Huu would be catapulted to a wider stage.
Especially with the Deep Raid that had been conducted three years previous. While a success in that they raided six worlds in the Free Worlds League. They suffered heavy casualties, the leadership were hand-picked close friends of the Archon with little actual experience in the field. Something that saw military trust plummet. Reporting on the Deep Raid matter had seen her posted to Blackjack just in case someone, the Archon or the General staff wished to retaliate.
This mistrust made Eggers Armaments something of a point of contention.
The Archon wished to see the cheaper guns proliferate, at least that was what she saw given his speeches and public position. A more protected realm meant that he could conduct more raids, demonstrate his (perceived) genius to the Commonwealth and add his name to the history books. The Generals opposed it on the principle that if the Archon was pushing, it was probably a terrible idea.
Not that Huu cared about such things of course. Matters of honour weren't a concern right now, his focus was on making the world a better place to the best of his ability. When told of official interest, the teenager had shrugged with supreme confidence. "I need to sort things out here first," was his reply. That the idea of retro-tech had proliferated throughout the sphere was enough to keep the eyes on him waiting, impatient, but still waiting. He was merely the progenitor. Already other, much larger corporations, were taking the idea and running with it.
He was rather minor in the grand scheme of things, but the intuitive and far thinkers were keeping feelers on Blackjack. Sille knew from the presence of a few... undesirables... that he had caught the attention of some very big fish indeed.
When asked about what he was planning, the confident reply of 'infrastructure' was enough to tell her that he had big things planned. Anyone willing to invest in the sheer basics was thinking far ahead.
As it was, Alex, her cameraman was capturing Huu's profile as he toured the area around Eggers Armaments. Looking like a chicken, bent forward, hands in his pockets, head bobbing up and down. No. That wasn't the correct term to use.
A bird of prey, yes.
A bird of prey, hunting amongst the reeds, ready to pounce on a moment's opportunity, when flesh looked as if it might be visible and present.
"What are you thinking of doing when it comes to infrastructure?" She asked, wondering just how far he had taken this line of thought.
"I'm thinking of buying the land itself and then installing a few roads, rail lines, more foundations, a medical clinic, a housing complex, food... I need to take care of my employees before I do anything new. At the same time, maybe planning ahead so I don't face a supply block in the future."
Head swinging side to side, Sille could only think of the words that Alessandro had said in court that fateful day.
"As he cast out his eyes, he did not see anything that he did not own." It was referencing himself of course, but Huu hadn't needed to say the words, not like Alessandro.
The same sense of domineering confidence she felt from Archon Alessandro was exactly the same as what she was feeling now. Only time would tell if he was as supremely confident regardless of the situation around him as Alessandro was, or if Huu was more someone aware of his limits and strengths.
In either case, she would be there to record it, to comment on it... and to become famous as she did so.
By the time she was done, there would be none that could exile her from court because they didn't like what she had to say!
On that note, "I am here on the site of Eggers Armaments today with Huu Eggers..."
+_+
Glory Brantzollen sat with Phan Eggers and Katherine Eggers. The conference table large enough for a general staff, suffocatingly large with just the three of them in the room.
Reporting to Phan Eggers as her superior in Military Intelligence. Baroness Eggers had barged into the meeting with eyes that dared her commanding officer to deny her presence.
Naturally, being intelligent enough to rise fo regional commander of the periphery regions of the Commonwealth, he didn't refuse.
"As you can see from the news excerpt that Commonwealth press has published, your son has become something of an interest to the Commonwealth as a whole. However, as your son is the heir to the Eggers Baron line, he is under the protection of Colonel-Duke Kleist through oaths of loyalty. This has dissuaded many attempts at trying to draw Huu off planet, but I fear it is only a matter of time before an offer is accepted. They are offering considerable sums and incentives sir."
Phan meanwhile snorted.
"They might try, but the boy is too scared to leave the planet. Went for a trip up north on the boats, found himself sick for a month from a bug that nobody on this planet had caught before now. Went down south to tour the desert, found himself in the hospital, again from a bug that nobody has managed to identify. That's not to mention all the other times he's been sick because we took a field trip, invigorate his interest in history and all that. Leave the Lott area and he is guaranteed to get sick. He's terrified that leaving the planet would see him dead."
Katherine just looked helpless at that. Terrified at first, but when it passed 12 trips and 12 periods of severe illness over 17 years, it became rather obvious that if anyone had been born to be a cave-hermit, it had been their son.
As he liked to say, "so long as I have a flush toilet, shower, air conditioning, a net connection, and food, I'll never leave my room."
"Yes sir."
Phan looked over the reports again, trying to find anything that he might have missed. Then the he looked at his notes, the underlined things were matters he needed to take care of.
"The militia has been cleared?"
"Yes sir, we've found a few infiltrators, recent additions. Several others are under surveillance and we are unsure as to their motives. They have done nothing illegal, and we haven't picked them up."
Phan raised an eyebrow.
"And how are you doing that? I had thought your numbers were stretched at our last meeting."
"The machinists are very loyal to your son sir. He's willing to provide as many benefits as possible, the things he's doing is unheard of this far from the industrialised worlds. Dormitories, medical facilities, food, all of it in what they're calling a fortress class structure. The specifics escape me, but the machinists are very happy. They are, at this point, on the way to becoming the second most well defended machinists in the Lyran Commonwealth. They're willing to act as eyes and ears to prevent any harm coming to my employer."
"Seriously? He's spending the money he's earning on accomodations? Not expansion? I would have thought he would try to make as many profits as possible. He seems the type."
Katherine nodded. For all that she loved her son, he was rather... short-sighted when it came to things with big numbers.
Actually.
Now that Katherine thought about it... a fortress class structure would have to be externally sealed wouldn't it? Didn't that basically mean that her son was make a large home where he didn't need to worry about allergies?
That was so... so much like him.
"He is being quite serious sir, worries that if there is a raid, all the people under his command could suffer before reinforcements arrive."
"He does know that we do have mechs. No... no, he's stubbornly independent like that, hates owing people anything..."
Katherine spoke up, "he is the heir to House Eggers. If he's worried about security and safety, expanding the house's retainers to guard his facilities is within his perogative. They, at least, would be more trustworthy than the militia. After... they are vetted of course. I do approve of this initiative in building defences now while he has eyes on him. They will not move when another could restrain them from doing so."
Given her commander's nod, Glory felt it appropriate to pass this advice onto her employer. The frustratingly inconsistent genius. Sometimes elated, sometimes down, sometimes manic. She didn't quite have a handle on him as of yet, besides the fact he was attracted to her of course. It was difficult to hide when his eyes were the only parts of his face exposed. Made their every moment something everyone kept track of, if only to keep track of where his thoughts were taking him. Her hair and neck apparently, but he restrained himself admirably for a teenager of 17.
"Pass on the recommendations Glory..."
Phan was interrupted as Katherine butted into the conversation
"And make sure the machinists understand that it's not just corporate sabotage we need to be careful of. My son, as I knew would happen, he's too capable for anything else, has become something of a spiritual totem. A totem for this retro-tech revival that we are seeing. Hurting or killing him would be a spiritual blow to the Commonwealth, let them know that he needs to be kept safe. If not for them, then for the Commonwealth