IPO of the TTNP
It’s unknown how the rumors started. Was it an intrepid analyst who noticed the discrete movement of capital amongst the wealthiest members of society? Was it a lowly technician catching a glimpse of what is meant to be hidden? Was it, perhaps, one stakeholder or another breaching confidentiality through stealth or through mishap? Or was it simply a defensive mechanism of a collective consciousness inevitably desiring a full measure of itself, similar to how a toe can’t for long keep an itch secret from an idle finger.
Regardless of how they began, rumors do as rumors does, breeding and spreading like a mental virus, scattering itself across cyberspace swifter than any attempt at containment could hope to impose itself. Capital is flowing across Typhomorphin. The great space ships of the Skitari are gathering.The Xeno-Com Directors could not hide their movements. Great resources promise great effort, and great potential for great profit. But what could this effort be? Ten thousand theories bloomed, from conspiracy to simplicity.
The excitement of the Skitari rose to a feverish pitch, and so it is in this sweltering heat that the announcement was finally made: A new enterprise is to be initiated, to open an entirely new horizon for exploitation. The very same executives who masterminded the coup that is Space Mall Tac Home are throwing the weight of their experience and instinct behind a new effort… no, a new corporation.
The Trans- Tacci Nebula Partnership. TTNP.
To be granted a Monopoly.
Over all Skitarii trade to that corner of the galaxy.
And so the internet exploded.
Birth of new companies are not rare within the Skitari. The Conglomerate oversees the application and licensing of many enterprises -- indeed, it is appropriate and right for an individual, mastering one’s hobby, to provide the skills in their favorite activities in the pursuit of profit and progress. After all, what is a company, but an engine of progress?
However, for such an effort to be sponsored by The Conglomerate, but not of the Conglomerate, is unprecedented in recent history. Indeed, the official stake, the seed, the core of Conglomerate influence, is merely as a two-bit shareholder of TTNP. Many shares were already sold or exchanged, to acquire the stake for the unimaginable fleet of resources represented by two exploration ships, their entire warfleet, and a spread of freighters.
The rest, over half of the shares, are to be sold to the general public of the Skitari during a grand Initial Public Offering - IPO - a date that is swiftly approaching.
With the reveal, were invitations to great expositions across Typhomorphin -- even one at the busy construction-yards of Pyrodin. For those without the resources, will, or inclination to physically contribute their capital or seek employment, vast VR servers were prepared --modeled after the Situation Room of the venerable exploration vessel, The Dynanimus; or the grand ballroom of Space Mall Tac Home; or even the Suite offered to the Skitarii Delegation at the Huruun “Type 1”. A Public and Investor Relations stunt of incredible proportions, designed to harness the capital and willpower of an entire people to a yoke of great expectations.
And the one to lead TTNP to greatness as CEO? None other than the economic and cultural icon Gyr-03 “Gyrotron.” Young Gyr-03 : 73-Tro became famous as the youngest Skitari to have paid off their Cloning Bill in full, at the young age of 9 cycles, after inventing the first pseudo-random Tac-Com module to achieve widespread adoration. Even after her company “GyrSyk Comms” was acquired by the Conglomerates’ TacComms Division, she rose swiftly within the company to become CEO of the entire Division at the age of 13 cycles.
And so, as the countless thousands walked into the atriums and auditoriums, and as the countless millions signed onto their websites and servers, the entire Conglomerate waits with bated breath as the young CEO, clad in a common steel blue chassis except for three tasteful titanium stripes, and a platinum icon of TTNP, walked onto the stage, her image and her voice electronically woven into holograms projected across Skitari space.
“Breathe.” A word that reminded them of the breath they were holding back. She smiles.
“Every breath we take is manufactured. Collected, cleansed, filtered, transported. An aspect of life, unquestioned for so many generations. And yet out there...” she pointed upward “Life. Breathes. Free. Air.”
“The Programmers have never looked beyond Typhomorphin. They never looked above the horizon - why should they, when all the pleasures could be manufactured in bits and bytes, dribs and drabs? Why should they, when the closest star is infinitely out of reach?”
“For countless generations, our productivity and our population have been stagnant, our excesses spent on luxury and on whimsy, pushing boundaries to find more of the same. Why should we, when we could relax with our current efforts?”
“Even in the first days of our space-borne expeditions, finding naught but barren worlds of metal and minerals, this same question echoed. Why should we, invest so much, to travel so far, to find nothing but reminders of home?”
“But then we found them. And the glass ceiling is broken.” She held out her arms in an embrace of alien cultures.
“I speak of wealth. I speak of profit. I speak, of course, of opportunity.”
She produces a tablet, attached to an oversized and old-fashioned data drive. “My consultants wished me to quantify this opportunity with numbers.” With a casual toss, it flew up, before it disintegrated under a directed beam. “Allow me instead, to draw a picture with words.”
She extended her arm, and a small projection of Tacci was produced.
“The Tac have lived for countless generations. They are a gift-based culture, but the basis of economics escapes no peoples. They have reached a limit.”
Tac shrunk and another appeared next to it.
“The Huruun have lived countless generations. They are a consensus-based culture, unable to adapt to the rapidity of change in our modern times. They have reached a limit.”
She lowered her hands, and the two planets slowly zoomed out… revealing more planets, then stars, then systems, until the local region was in view, oversized models of starships flying too and fro.
“And this, this is the First Interstellar Economic System. The trade within this system, anchored by Space Mall Tac Home, has a value greater than all the production of Typhomorphin, for countless generations.”
She smiled, “We have yet to reach a limit.”
The map continued to zoom out, and then a region to the south east begins to shimmer.
“There are more, more than just the Tac and Huruun. More opportunities, more growth.”
She gestures and they zoom into two bright blue stars, and the image shifts, so that they lie in the fore ground, a vast array of alien worlds behind it.
“This is the mission of the Trans Tacci Nebula Partnership. To look beyond the possible, to reach out to the edges of the galaxy for more opportunities and more trade.”
She lifts her hand, letting the image fly up, and up, growing until it fills all of the ceilings above the conference room.
“By investing in us, you are not merely investing in the future of Skitarii, but you are investing in YOUR future. Our Esteemed Owners will receive the first choice of the innumerable opportunities. Join us, to grasp the future!”
From TTNP’s CEO, Gyr-03 : 73-Tro
To the Torrhenian Confederacy, To the Kul’Hari Collective
With Tac Interpreters on First Contact
Greetings, fellow spacefaring peoples. I represent the TRANS TACCI NEBULA PARTNERSHIP, a subsidiary of the SKITARII MERCANTILE CONGLOMERATE. I wish to establish diplomatic relations with your peoples and am eager to lay the groundwork for trade relations between our peoples.
And that is possible only cause they are small, as daft said, the won't freely float in an atmosphere not like their own. But flying through those pneumatic stuff... that doesn't require floating. That design will be copied back home for sure.
The past week has been pretty nerve-wracking. I really needed a break this weekend.
