(OOC: This is a joint post between Strat and Tuva about the creation of a port north of Bourun)
Tarov, Tivot, 1000 hours, 10/07/17
A big meeting would soon take place, and Boryov Artemovich, CEO of South Tarov Constructions, was eagerly awaiting his potential client. He had just finished his coffee as someone knocked on the door.
Boryov’s secretary poked her head through the door. “Mr. Artemovich? A Mr. Polishchuk is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
The door buzzed as it opened, and a grey-furred vulpine of about average height stepped inside.
“Welcome, Mr. Polishchuk! Please, take a seat,” said Boryov.
Maksym Polishchuk firmly shook the other man’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Artemovich,” replied the Ivlyan ambassador. “It’s a pleasure to be here.” Obligingly, he took a seat, his stiff upper back relaxing slightly against the cushioned chair.
Boryov approached a small table with a coffee maker on it, an assortment of sugars, syrups, and creamers sat next to it. “How do you like your coffee, Mr. Polishchuk?” he asked.
“Two sugars, one cream, if you’d be so kind,” Polishchuk replied appreciatively.
Boryov plopped in two sugar cubes into the black coffee, and poured a bit of creamer into the beverage. After stirring for a bit, Boryov handed the coffee to Polishchuk. “As you ordered!”
Polishchuk nodded his thanks, slowly sipping the beverage and sighing in bliss as he lowered in from his lips. Taking another sip, carefully avoiding any slurping sounds, his ears seemed to flick back slightly.
The CEO took his seat at his desk, and said, “So, Mr. Polishchuk, I’ll be blunt; this proposal of yours strikes me as bold, if I do say so. You’ve persuaded our government to implement tax subsidies for companies like mine, and that I must say is very commendable. But I must note that such a project would require much of my company’s capital to pull off.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded, resting on his bloated stomach. His eyes and ears wide open, scanning for any clues in his countenance.
But alas, he found few, if any. Acknowledging the first part of Boryov’s statement, Polishchuk smiled and set his half-empty cup on a small glass table nearby. “To be successful in Ivlya requires a certain amount of… negotiation ability,” he stated modestly. “And you also have payment coming from the Ivlyan government, not simply from within your own company. After all, such an endeavor is most definitely in the best national interests of my nation.” He returned the CEO’s gaze unyieldingly. “Aside from that, your company would receive a percentage off commerce to and from that port. This would be very profitable for both parties.”
The stocky man’s eyes lit up slightly, and pondered the Vulpine’s sentence. After a moment, Boryov looked to Polishchuk, and said, “You make a hard offer to pass off, Mr. Polishchuk. You have yourself a deal.” He stood up, and held out his hand.
The ambassador stood and grasped it, smiling slightly triumphantly. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Boryov.”