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Retail Wars: An Opco Boone Adventure: Difference between revisions
Retail Wars: An Opco Boone Adventure (view source)
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David goddamn Bundie. | David goddamn Bundie. | ||
I can still hear him saying it, in that put-on baritone of his, all faux swagger and stuffy authority, concealing a timid ego: | I can still hear him saying it, in that put-on baritone of his, all faux swagger and stuffy authority, concealing a timid ego: | ||
</div><div class="quotalic"> | </div><div class="quotalic"> | ||
“Now, mark my words, soldiers” — he was always calling us that — “treasure your weapon. Respect it. Treat it like a child, and it will treat you like it’s a fire-eyed mastiff and you are master of the hounds of hell.” | “Now, mark my words, soldiers” — he was always calling us that — “treasure your weapon. Respect it. Treat it like a child, and it will treat you like it’s a fire-eyed mastiff and you are master of the hounds of hell.” | ||
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“Did you ever kill anyone, sir? You know, at Bretton Woods.” | “Did you ever kill anyone, sir? You know, at Bretton Woods.” | ||
At that moment, Bundie’s face darkened. A light went out. Something closed down in there. A door that had briefly shown a delicate perimeter of golden rays slammed shut. The youthful, vigorous warrior was gone and the kind old defence against indemnities master returned. “I — I don’t know what you mean, Punchface.” | At that moment, Bundie’s face darkened. A light went out. Something closed down in there. A door that had briefly shown a delicate perimeter of golden rays slammed shut. The youthful, vigorous warrior was gone and the kind old defence against indemnities master returned. “I — I don’t know what you mean, Punchface.”</div> | ||
<div class="indent">Well, the old bastard had been right. Totally right. ISDA rolled out a plastic twin network SL/Repo mod designed to work with their 02, but it was never popular, and there were documented examples of them falling apart during live margining exercises. The failure rate was off the charts. Reports of entire battalions throwing them down in the field and just running for their lives. As the enemy SIVs rumbled up the salient they didn’t even stop to collect them. They didn’t even take the unspent margin ammo for their rehypothecation tanks. They just rolled over them, atomising these weapons and grinding them into the mud. | |||
To this day treasure seekers and carpetbaggers and find shards and fragments of these weapons of war in the salted soil, leeched by conflict and hubris if all the alpha nutrients, where now only the gaudy, surface-deep colours of wilding index trackers grow. | |||
The old guy’s intonation rang in my ears. </div> | |||
<div class="quotalic">“Maintaining a ’95 OSLA takes skill, soldiers. Dedication. Deep insight. Handling them takes real skill. But, oh — the rewards. That perma-balancing portfolio margining. The native netting stability. That dependable 5 point bias. But ongoing service and maintenance takes time, effort and craft. Mark my words: they’ll ditch these babies. They'll outlaw them. We won’t see their like again.” | |||
“Come on, Sir, that’s not possible. How are we expected to fight without stock loans?” | “Come on, Sir, that’s not possible. How are we expected to fight without stock loans?” | ||
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A low thunder rumbled across the landscape. | A low thunder rumbled across the landscape. | ||
“I.S.D.A.” | “I.S.D.A.”</div> | ||
</div | |||
They were bad derelicts. They were mainly deserted. It was target practice: guilt-free workout on the downside levers. | <div class="indent">They were bad derelicts. They were mainly deserted. It was target practice: guilt-free workout on the downside levers. | ||
We rolled up on this decaying greyfield strip-mall. There should have been no one there. We went in just to clear out the vega-heads — no one else would risk that condemned structure — as a prelude to flattening it. We did this just to make it safe — to stop random kids wandering in and getting crushed by falling masonry, and take away sniper opportunities for our HNW lorries and AM cruisers as they rolled through after us. | We rolled up on this decaying greyfield strip-mall. There should have been no one there. We went in just to clear out the vega-heads — no one else would risk that condemned structure — as a prelude to flattening it. We did this just to make it safe — to stop random kids wandering in and getting crushed by falling masonry, and take away sniper opportunities for our HNW lorries and AM cruisers as they rolled through after us. | ||