Your timing with the Helion counter attacks against this significant claim, use of arms, and the promise of violence across the trade front is the only reason yours was not silenced immediately.”
At that, Boss Ulanti turned toward the Actuary and the Grotto executive’s bodyguards tensed, the feral aggression practically oozing out of the marine.
“To be exact in my terms,” said the Actuary as he held his palms up to cut the tension. “This is a labor dispute, and history has shown that the labor movements that are not protected by force of arms are the most likely to fail.
Citizen Marsters, you are either a student of history or an astute observer of corporate society at large. Regardless, the death of Reaper Tillman has indeed been an effective PR tool for your cause, upon this we are agreed. That being said, what is your point in bringing attention to the vid-clip, beyond its effectiveness at bringing an Anointed to the negotiation table?”
“The death of one marine should not ignite such passion and defiance in the citizens of Grotto,” said Wynn, eliciting a confused look from both Samuel and the Actuary. “A soldier should die and be mourned by family, honored by comrades, and be soon forgotten. It is a testament to Grotto’s culture of oppression that the death of a single marine, heroic as it might have been, has brought forth such a response from the population.”
“Should I infer from this that you mean to say that in a less oppressive society such a death would go relatively unnoticed by the greater population?” asked the Actuary as he leaned forward, his eyes glinting with interest. Samuel imagined that this is what he looked like during the most heated of financial negotiations.
“Precisely,” said Wynn flatly, and Samuel could see in the man’s face, after years of fighting at his side, that it was costing the man dearly to speak so callously of the death of one of his dearest comrades.
“As it stands,” he continued, “Reaper Tillman fought and died for a pittance. Despite the death benefit her disabled husband and their daughter will receive, they will still be burdened with the life-bond of the child when she comes of age.
Jared Tillman lost both of his legs when a nefadrite cauldron over-pressurized and exploded. The damage to his spine was severe enough that only an Augur implant could help him. It was far more than their credit rating allowed, so he is now chair-bound.
His employment eligibility upon graduation and life-bonding was categorized as manual industrial. Without education which they cannot afford, he is unable to work. Virginia took up soldiering because it was the only way they could keep their family afloat and avoid debtor’s prison.
People know their story now, they’ve seen the vid-clip, and the general population knows now what heroism and loyalty count for in Grotto. Nothing. So we strike, and maybe they will too, until something changes.”
“The life-bond,” uttered the Actuary as he leaned back in his chair with a deep exhale. “Now I understand. One might suspect that Virginia Tillman took unnecessary risks in order to encourage a heroic death on screen, knowing what the combination of such a death and the particulars of her family life would do to ignite a fleet-wide Reaper strike.”
“Our labor is the only thing of value we can offer Grotto,” said Wynn, “Whether we’re swinging a hammer, pressing a button, or pulling the trigger. People pride themselves in what they can do, but it’s time for Grotto to pay for their loyalty, to earn it, not presume it through institutionalized obligation.
If we don’t work, if we don’t fight, then we may be carted off to prison or die in the streets, but I assure you, Anointed, Grotto will die with us.”
“Hyperbolic to say the least, Citizen Marsters, though I gather your meaning, of course. I have reviewed your demands and have created a counter-offer, one that I hope we can settle upon, before more turmoil sullies this great corporation.” As the Anointed spoke, he slid a laminated stack of documents across the table into Wynn’s hands.
The platoon leader picked them up and began to read through them, taking his time with it, uncaring at the uncomfortable silence that descended upon the room.
Boss Ulanti stared daggers at the bodyguards while Samuel did his best not to make eye contact with the Actuary. The Anointed must have noticed, as he spoke directly to Samuel.
“Citizen Hyst, your file indicates that you expatriated your wife and son, and then found your own expatriation denied at the outset of the trade war. You have my sympathies; the timing of such events was unfortunate.” The Anointed was obviously attempting to display a sincere expression of concern, but his face seeming to be struggling to pull it off. “You will be pleased to know that our counter-offer does allow for expatriation rights to be reinstated for each Reaper force once it completes its current tour of duty and returns to its founding system.
Assuming you survive your remaining duties, I wish you luck on the frontier. Our research indicates that former Grotto citizens tend not to acclimate to life outside Grotto, however, after reviewing your combat records and psych file I theorize that your life after expatriation will make the graph plot much more engaging.”
It took Samuel a moment to realize that he’d just been paid a compliment. Before he could respond, Boss Marsters looked up. “This is the fifth counter offer made by your office,” he said, “and I consider it fair under the circumstances.” He slid the documents back across the table.
“Significant changes must be implemented gradually, else the system as a whole will suffer,” the Anointed said, accepting the documents. “There will be tangible immediate gains for the bonded population, and over the next several decades the remainder of our agreement will be progressively applied each fiscal quarter.
Our business here is concluded then.
As you have likely estimated there are dozens more unionist leaders that I must meet with across Grotto space, each with their own series of demands, many of them not nearly as modest or realistic as yours.”
The Anointed collected signatures on the documents from Boss Ulanti, Marsters, and Samuel, then, before leaving he turned and said, “Citizen Marsters, your presence on Grotto Prime as the primary representative of the Reaper’s Union is non-negotiable and effective within three days. I shall look to see you at the next Board meeting.”
The Anointed left and both Boss Ulanti and Samuel looked aghast at Boss Marsters.
“My presence was an unofficial demand, made directly by the Actuary,” said Boss Marsters as he stood up, answering their unspoken question. “Tango Platoon is being disbanded, and everyone is being re-assigned.”
“We shined bright enough they had to snuff us out, eh?” laughed Boss Ulanti as she held the door open for Samuel and Boss Marsters. “Retire the celebrity soldiers so they can’t come back around and ask for more.”
“Something like that, yes,” agreed Boss Marsters while the three squad leaders walked out of the room and were met with the sight of Lord Indron waiting for them at the end of the corridor. “It’s just another compromise. We let them retire the platoon, they don’t have to worry about us making new trouble for them and we don’t have to worry about two-faced plants joining our ranks for their own agendas, case in point.”
The marines shared a short chuckle just before they reached Lord Indron.
10. PLANS WITHIN PLANS
Samuel had never even seen an aristocrat’s palanquin, much less ridden in one. During his time as a Grotto civilian he had never lived, worked, or commuted in a zone that was frequented by the elites of corporate society.