Chronicle:Fengese insurance

A minute early, a video call is made. A dozen seconds later, the call connects. Right on time, a meeting begins.

On this side of the globe, a woman in a black suit worth more than its weight in gold. Her features are clearly Occidental. Raven black hair frames a diamond face perfectly, lips turned up in a slight smile by instinct alone. She doesn't look a day over thirty. Unsuspecting relics of the past blend into her decadent surroundings. An award, indicating commendation from the Scion Herself, blessed be Her name. An ornate dao in a similarly embellished sheath, ceremonial yet whetted recently. A set of skulls: deer, tiger, dragon, human. The plaque on the oaken desk reads 'Phwa Sook-jeng'.

On the other side of the globe, a tan man seated quite comfortably on a sofa. Behind the gilded rims of his spectacles are a set of hawkish eyes, around is a face that has seen better days. Scars mar much of his face in dark and pinkish discoloration alike, and though the slightly disheveled dress shirt on him hid it, more cut across his chiseled frame. Veteran, merchant of death, now mostly regular merchant. There are few in this half of the world who don't know his name, praised as much as it is cursed: Min Sein Taung.

There is little need for formality. Both have known each other for decades. One, an account manager. The other, an esteemed client.

"Min," her tone dulcet, "here about the recent incident on the border?"

A groan, from untargeted exasperation. "You know how it is, just following protocol. Everything is set already, yes?"

A small nod. "Of course. There will be no issues on our side with fulfilling our agreed upon policy. The heavy equipment is already on the way. The money..." A mouse click is audible over the pristine silence. "...is sent."

"Good to hear." There is a lull in the conversation, as both seemed to wait for each other to continue. "Right... Let's review the policies while we're here. For the shareholders."

"Of course." Another click, and a display of the Daibanjo Corporation's records are pulled up. "Your company's account is in good order, as are its subsidiaries', public and covert. Payments and fulfillments look good."

A tap of the keyboard. A ledger of all purchased policies appears on the screen. It's mostly red. It takes a few more seconds for one of them to update. It remains yellow. He raises an eyebrow. Phwa's expression remains unchanged.

"So... the matter about the Ziggers. My auditors had a few questions to ask about that. They looked over the receipt, and there apparently was a discrepancy in it. We thought it major enough to bring it up with you."

This time, her eyebrow raised. "What of it?"

A sigh issued, then his sharp gaze locked onto hers. "The total payments were over the obligated amount. It appears your firm has provided coverage for some... entities that don't exist. Shouldn't exist, anyways. May we inquire as to how exactly your firm has obtained names and details for those 'entities'?" The loaded inquiry was uttered in as polite a way as he could muster.

The response was similarly polite, the surety in her voice betraying the implications of her words. "The obligated amount wouldn't have covered all your losses, and it was decided that once added up, those losses would've been unacceptably detrimental to our company's 'investments' in yours. Matron Phwa made the call. Consider it a professional courtesy."

His tone now grew testy, practically seething through bared teeth. "This isn't something we can just gloss over. You know it. I know you know it. Let's not beat around the bush here - this is a matter of our security. How did you get the info?"

A slight frown sullied Phwa's otherwise flawless appearance. "You're toeing the line here, Min. You surely understand the confidentiality clause? Think of it as a trade secret - the more is known about our means, the fewer policies we can sell. You needn't worry, the relationship between our companies has and will continue to be valued over any fleeting interest. Any major opsec breach in the Daibanjo Corporation would be covered by the Delta-class policies, at any rate."

Despite an ocean's distance between the two, the deadly tension coalescing could be felt through the screen, thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, with a sigh heavier than usual and a mirthless chuckle, it shattered.

"Alright, alright, I get it. Next order of business, will your company be covering for our proactive security measures in West Ozara, a coup d'etat package, perhaps?..."