Early 962 ARR (38 BBY)
I was sat in my office going over some flimsy-work that Ona had given me to check over and sign. It felt at times like the regulations were intended to cripple new companies like mine. I had even contracted one of Theed's premier law firms, Tuls & Duss, to try and help guide us through the nonsense bureaucracy we were faced with.
If I were cynical, I might have thought the Republic was trying to destroy any competition to the established monopolies, rather than promoting small businesses. Perhaps I should write a complaint to my senator! Though from what I'd heard, unless you were a major shareholder in plasma mining, you would have more chance of meeting a mermaid than Palpatine.
Ona burst into the room in an unusually abrupt manner, to which I responded to in the most British fashion by apologising myself. "Yes Ona, I'm sorry, I've almost finished with the documents you asked me to check over."
"No John, it's not that, there's a security officer here to see you."
This was ringing all kinds of alarm bells, apart from my initial conversations when I first appeared in Theed, I'd had no further interaction with the security forces. To my knowledge I hadn't done anything remotely illegal. Had I somehow upset someone powerful in the city? Broken some sort of ancient law against practical tech?
"Er, right, please send them through Ona, thank you."
After a few moments, an intense looking man in his mid-30s stepped into my room, his eyes searching warily over everything around him. I took a breath, trying to keep calm and maintain some kind of control over the situation.
"Please, take a seat officer? Can I get you anything?"
"Thank you, no, I'm fine." he replied briskly, before settling into the chair.
"Well, how can I help you today officer?"
"You are John Smith, yes?" he asked, to which I nodded, still trying to maintain an illusion of calm.
"You are a lot younger than I was expecting."
"I hear that a lot." (I really did).
He looks at me intently for several long moments, as if trying to determine some important state secret from my face.
"I am Lieutenant Quarsh Panaka, Deputy Chief of His Majesty's Royal Naboo Security Forces. I'm here to speak to you about your 'SuperPads'." he said finally.
"I see, is there some sort of problem Lieutenant? My lawyers assure me they are perfectly legal devices." I manage to reply carefully, both intimidated by the presence of the second most senior security official on the planet, and starting to wonder why he came alone.
"Oh no its nothing like that, no I wanted to discuss the possibility of procuring a military-grade version for the security forces."
That was not the direction I thought this conversation would be going in and opens up a whole new set of questions. The security forces could already afford personal holocomms, and they hardly needed music players, so they were not really a market I had been considering. Would producing for the military mean a lot more questions and scrutiny about my technology?
"I see, and what brought this about?" I probe gently. Really, I was stunned we had been noticed. Yes, we had sold thousands of the SuperPADs, but Theed had a population of millions.
"I saw one of my junior officers taking a call on their break, and I knew we don't pay enough for him to have afforded a personal holocomm. I confronted him, assuming he had been up to something nefarious. Instead, he was enthusiastically praising the capabilities of his new toy and its affordability. Since then, they've quickly become popular among the department and our families." Then with a notably softer tone he adds, "I don't think I've seen my sister put hers down."
Perhaps we should pay more attention to who's buying our devices, I had no idea we had so many fans in Naboo's police.
"Well, I appreciate the positive feedback of course Lieutenant, but don't you already have personal holocomms, and longer-range units in your speeders? I'm not sure what our devices would add for your use case."
The Lieutenant shifts a little at this, as if he's slightly uncomfortable at what he's about to say. "You are correct that our squad leaders are issued with personal holocomms. As you probably know a basic personal holocomm is around 2,000 credits. What you may not know is that a military grade version, with suitable encryption, jamming resistance, damage resilience and enough range to be used away from transmitter stations in major settlements, costs more than double that. Truthfully, whether they even live up to those requirements is also, debatable."
"I see." I said very slowly, as I processed this. I really hadn't known this, having started out my research with salvaged and second-hand tech. With my focus on making my product affordable to the masses, I'd not really researched the high-end market. Each holocomm the security forces were buying, cost them almost as much as my brand-new speeder.
He continued "I wondered if you would be able to come up with a credible alternative. Sourcing from a manufacturer here on Naboo would have obvious logistical advantages, and an easy sell to our political oversight. If you could make something superior, at a lower price, as you have with your SuperPads, then it would be a win all round."
After a moment to consider I replied, "I can understand the appeal. I will of course have to discuss this with my team, and work out what might be possible. If you could provide us with your requirements and desired quantity, we can come up with some options to pitch to you."
The efficient Lieutenant reached into his pocket and pulled out a datachip, which he handed over. "Everything you should need is on there, including how to reach me when you're ready." He then stood up, made his polite goodbyes, and left me staring at the chip lost in thought.
---
My 21st birthday party was a tad more impressive than the previous year, given I was hosting it in my own spacious and luxurious apartment. Along with my usual friends I'd invited all my staff and their plus ones. There were a few other newer business contacts, mostly those who handled my supplies and retailing.
I had wanted to make a real effort, 21 wasn't a significant age on Naboo, but it mattered to me. I had hired in professional caterers and even had a small live band, (space jazz of course) who I knew were Kyla's favourite local group.
Earlier in the day I'd received a holo-recording from Rana, which must have cost a big chunk of her allowance. She had wished me a happy birthday and told me that she missed me, though it was also clear that she was completely in love with her university and advanced studies on Corellia.
I was stood out on the balcony, sipping my wine and watching the sunset, paying little attention to the festivities around me. Kyla appeared at my side, half hugging me, while turning her head to gaze out at the same view I had lost myself in.
"You do realise this is your party?" she commented.
"Oh, so that's why I had to pay for all this wine." I replied sarcastically.
"You miss Rana." she said, leaning in and resting her cheek on my shoulder. It wasn't really a question, just an absolute statement of fact. "There are other girls out there, especially now you have all this." She waved her arm vaguely to punctuate the point. "Though your fashion sense is as miserable as ever."
"You won't catch me dead in those ridiculous robes." I reply automatically. It was well-trod ground. Kyla thought I needed to look the part of a Naboo social elite, if I wanted to be taken seriously going forward. I disagreed, mostly out of my unrealised desire for jeans, but also because the limited encounters I had so far had with Naboo's upper class had been largely vomit inducing.
"You'll see her again I'm certain, just don't let life pass you by in the meantime." She gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before heading back inside. I glanced back after her, to see she had shuffled up close to Asherré as per-usual. The pair of them somehow not realising that they had feelings beyond friendship for each other, when it was glaring obvious to everyone else.