The public relations efforts had helped; Loran was still loved by the media for his philanthropy, and admired in the business community for his expertise. True, his personal shipping empire had ceremoniously collapsed, but to this day he was still mostly respected for having built it in the first place (and made many investors ridiculously wealthy), rather than being blamed for its fall which was, itself, well managed. Thus, when Loran announced that he had purchased the rights to the much beleaguered PDS, its share price had skyrocketed by thousands percent. It had only done better when the Senate and New Republic Intelligence had cleared the company, and when its board of directors published its new mission statement and modus operandi.

The rest was much easier. The board had given him near complete latitude in choosing the company's officers; for management and procurement, he singled out many former members of his OSC (many of them were obscure names, not well known in the annals of business, for which Loran compensated by filling most other positions with renowned managers he had poached from firms such as Kuat and Blastech). In terms of actually training PDS's soldiers, Loran knew just the man; someone skilled, discreet, and personally loyal. Marshall DuPont was a veteran of the war, on the Imperial side. His path had crossed with Loran's when, as a Sergeant, DuPont's fifth wound of his career finally knocked him out of combat and landed him a promotion as the head of security at the Tolan Navy Yards, where Loran was then an Administrator.

Much later, at Loran's request, DuPont traded his uniform for a suit and trained the OSC's security forces. Now he felt much more comfortable with Patriot Defense Services, where his fetish for combat and explosions could be better satisfied. He would have done the job for free but, like all of the PDS's new employees, he was paid handsomely. All employees were also assured generous benefits and pensions, transferrable to their families if they should die in service to the company; aside from the conspicuous risks, it was otherwise a very desirable job, and the ranks filled quickly.

The rest was simply a matter of making sure PDS was well equipped. As of this moment, at the end of its first month, the company had in its possession armor, blaster pistols and rifles, munitions, landspeeders, and a small fleet of armored transports (and luxury ones as well, of course, for use by the board of directors and potential clients, who were invited to view the PDS's training operations on a moon that Loran had purchased for that purpose). Now, as Loran stood contemplating in his washroom, there were already several contracts in the works. Patriot Defense Services, Inc. was going to be a most profitable venture indeed.

Wyla Vrei―his "colleague" on the IMC's Board of Trustees―appeared behind him in the mirror, resting her chin on his shoulder. Their private meeting had just ended moments before. "Your tie is crooked," she said, and went about fixing it without protest from Loran (despite the feeling of being somewhat domesticated, he only smiled). "I'll see you at the meeting," she added, kissed his neck, and then left the office. Everything was going well, Loran had occasion to remind himself, including his very philosophy toward life, which had noticeably changed in recent months.

But nothing lasts forever, and this time―unlike with the collapse of the OSC―he might not see his next (and possibly final) ruin coming, until it was too late.

Drayson Lorano de Vega, CEO of Imperial Surplus, Inc.
Member of the Society for the Improvement of the Outer Rim