Paradox awoke, once again, he was finally done succumbing to pain... succumbing to weakness. On the verge of one of the largest conflicts the known world has faced. Why did the guild push through Arashi to hit a neutrally aligned trade hub? Anvala had survived this long as an independent city-state, but now with hunger in their eyes the factions looked upon it. Yesha’s triumvirate council and their useless figure head emperor, The Baronies Dahlberg and his banner men, Anglea sat foreboding in the north, How had The Guild attacked Anvala? They would’ve had to pass through Arashi air-water space, why did The League not seize the opportunity to sunder one of The Guilds many fleets? Allies? No. They’ve been at war too long, too much bad blood.
The endless amount of questions swirled around in his head, Paradox needed answers.
He swung his long mechanical legs off of the bed, lit a cigarillo and put on his hat. He looked down at his latest enhancement, after a brief inspection of the plate that scale his torso, he tapped on it, it made a metal on metal clank and the reverberation tickled the skin it was attached to. He stretched thinking of the many business arrangements that could be made, he smiled. Let the arms race begin.
--DLTC Headquarters—
He strolled into his office, wearing nothing but his boxers and hat. His employees rose to meet him, John was the first to speak: “Boss, you should be in bed, you need that to heal properly or you’re boned...” He looked at Paradox for a moment, “Where are your clothes?” John continued.
“Well, the doctors don’t exactly keep your clothes on when they’re trying to stop you from bleeding out, especially when you’re missing half your fuckin’ torso, John.” Papa retorted.
Jen stood there blushing, trying to avert her eyes.
“I need a status report on the damages and hopefully repairs... If you haven’t started those, you’re both fired.” Paradox said nonchalantly, ignoring his revealing attire, or lack thereof.
“H... Hangers, eight through thirteen have been d... destroyed, along with their contents, a lot of sky-cranes have gone down as well, slowing the loading of a lot of ships. They’ve started rebuilding hangers eight through ten and are working on clearing debris from the last tree.” She started off less than composed, Paradoxes near nakedness distracted her by showing how much of his body was actually mechanical.
“This is going to set us back, a lot, get the ship wrights working on replacement ships immediately.” He said while walking outside the door at the back of his office unto a balcony overlooking a large portion of the hangers. “Fuckin’ brass hats and their stupid fucking mongrel fleet. Time to start feeding the fire, weapons and ammunition go straight to the Baronies, Raw materials go north... John go south and facilitate trade with the Arashi nomad tribes, I want to give them weapons, cheap. The more shit they can throw at the Guild, the better, I’m tired of the fucking council and their inaction. We will wait for the day either Anglea or The Baronies claims this city and ends the council’s neutral bullshit.” Paradox finished his tirade, Jen and John went to work.
