Second brief story snippet for my New Year's Resolution, 298 to go.
Enjoy!

083. Monopoly

“The inherent danger in one business controlling the majority of a certain market is that without competition, there is no need to constantly improve their product. It’s easy to take profits for granted when yours is the only company that can provide a certain service, and even easier to see competing businesses as a threat – not only to your business, but to your personal well-being. From there, things can escalate very quickly…”

"So this Marcus Bre'nil, he owns an arms company. I know some Separatists are buying from him, but I wouldn't be surprised if he was courting the Republic as well." I glanced from the holocron display to my datapad. “His company employees well over half this town’s population, and even folks from surrounding towns. I can see why anyone would be hesitant to bring him down.”

I looked up from my notes at a particularly unhappy doe. I'd always thought of deer as more in tune with nature, or something like that. I certainly didn't think they'd find a home in the small towns and cities that were now springing up even on their home world. Then again, I didn't think them to be the aggressive type, either, but by the look on her face, Rysa was only a few moments from drawing her sidearm on me.

"He doesn't just own the company, you dolt! Bre'nil Arms is this town's only real source of income. He owns the rail system, the power facilities, most of the housing..."

"The courts?"

"At least some of the judges."

"The police?"

"You can never be sure."

"Sure I can! There's one easy way to find out."

Rysa's expression softened for a moment. "What?"

“Go talk to the police?”

Her frown returned. “Do you have a death wish, or something?’

"Crooked cops are still cops, right? They can't just shoot us on sight."

Rysa cleared her throat.

"Seriously? Jeez, this place really is fucked up."

The doe gave what I assume was a snarl and slapped me across the face. Hard. "Hey asshole, we're talking about my home here."

Dripping sarcasm, "Right, I forgot. Well, if we can't talk to the cops, and the courts are out of the question, then what do you propose we do about this guy?"

"We hit him where it counts: His wallet."

"The plant?"

"Exactly."

"Take it over?"

"Not feasible."

"Then what?"

"Blow it up?"

My eyes widened. "Blow it up? Oh, sure. talking to corrupt cops is out of the question, but blowing up a whole plant is perfectly acceptable."

"It's after-hours. No one will be there."

I give a mock bow. "My wavering conscious thanks you. Now just how do you propose we do that? I have some explosives, but not nearly enough for a job like that."

Rysa cocked her head. "It is a weapons factory, remember. It wouldn't take too much, but if what you have isn't enough, we'll just buy it from him."

For a moment, I simply stared at the fiery doe. Then, slowly, I felt a grin cross my muzzle. "You know, that so crazy it just might work. I think we might even get along."

She shook her head, slinging a small pack over her shoulder. "Don't push your luck, merc."

I shrugged, donning my cloak and checking that my sidearms were securely holstered. "Hey, you're the one who hired me. I'm just doing what I'm good at."

"That remains to be seen."

"I'm crushed."


“Well, that escalated quickly!” I shouted, scrambling behind the relative cover of the granite counter. Laser bolts flashed overhead and thudded against the opposite side. We'd gotten about halfway through the compound when we stumbled into a trio of workers on a night shift that Rysa hadn't known about. Despite all her tough talk, she couldn't justify harming these three, and let them go. A few moments later, the alarm sounded, and Bre'nil security flooded into the plant. Now, we were stuck; cornered on the plant floor with shooters only a few dozen feet beyond our flimsy shelter.

Rysa was already huddled there, trying her best to shield her head. "Damnit, why aren't you shooting at them?!"

"You said these people lived here, in this town," I snapped back. "You said you didn't want anyone to die."

"That was before they started shooting at me," she screamed, teeth bared. "Get us the fuck out of here!"

I made a show of shrugging. "Whatever you say."

That done, I reached into my own satchel and fished around for a few seconds before withdrawing a blue-ringed grenade. Rysa barely had time to look shocked before I pulled the pin and tossed it over the counter like a half-eaten apple. There were a few excited shouts, and suddenly all blaster fire stopped. They probably expected an explosion, but not silence. Swinging quickly up and over the counter, I spotted a battle rifle that someone had been unfortunate enough to drop in his haste to escape. I snatched it up and took aim at the doorway they'd retreated through. When Rysa crept up beside me, I gestured the blue grenade just in front of us.

"Dummy grenade. Works every damn time."

Rysa fumed. "And what would you have done if it hadn't?"

"Well, in that case, we'd be in the exact same situation, but minus one dummy grenade."

"Were you even contemplating shooting anyone?"

As if to answer her question, I spotted movement through the doorway and let loose a burst of laser bolts. No one appeared, but I heard someone curse beyond the door. "Don't blame yourselves, gents, everyone falls for that at some point." I gestured for Rysa to remove her pack, and she laid the satchel of explosives on the floor. "The explosives we're setting now, however, are quite real, and they'll have a very short timer. I suggest you leave."

It took only seconds for Rysa to arm the device, which made me question just who she was to have all of this knowledge, but we were too busy running for our lives for me to really contemplate the doe's upbringing.


As we watched the plant go up in a blaze, Rysa murmured, "Go to Hell."

With a small nod, I added, "Go directly to Hell. Do not pass the tangible plane, do not collect your worldly possessions."

She looked at me as though I'd grown a third eye. "What?"

"Never mind."