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“But please, come,” Jardan said, waving towards the ranch. “I can give you a tour while we talk, unless you prefer to discuss things inside?”
“A tour would be great,” Keran said, echoing my thoughts. With luck, we would notice something that had escaped them. “I’m curious as to what led you here on Haven, so far from your usual trade area.”
Jardan smiled, not fooled in the least as we walked towards the smaller of the two pens where the men were sparring.
“Business can only grow if you expand your market and keep your offerings fresh. In the Western Quadrants, I used to have an endless pool of excellent Xelixian candidates,” Jardan said wistfully. “With the Taint, their males had no choice but to keep fit to slow down its detrimental effects, and the lack of opportunities made them open to even the riskiest contracts. With their short lifespan, they didn’t really care. But since the Veredians found the cure, it is nearly impossible to hire them. So I had to cast my net farther and wider.”
“But Haven?” I challenged. “It’s not exactly reputed as a military training ground.”
“You are correct, Sana Dawn,” Jardan conceded. “But warrior planets are already overrun by the competition trying to recruit the best men. You have to think creatively to succeed. Most headhunters are not willing to put in the work. They want candidates already trained that can simply be handed off to the client. But those qualified candidates also cost way more, and you have to overbid a great deal to get them to come with you, which erodes your profit margin.”
“Whereas desperate and untrained people are easily conned into underselling themselves,” I retorted in a much cooler tone as we came to a stop near the pen.
Contrary to my expectation, Jardan didn’t lose his temper to thus be called out by a female. On his world, I’d be severely punished for what would be perceived as major disrespect. Instead, he rested his elbow on top of the wooden fence delimiting the pen and gave me an assessing look.
“There is a fine line between exploitation and opportunity, Dawn,” Jardan said in an almost paternal tone. “Could the amount I will eventually offer them in their contract be higher? In many cases, yes. But good business means maximizing profit. I do not run a charity. However, they are getting from me something they could have only ever dreamed of.”
“Not if one of your rivals shows up,” I insisted.
He snorted and waved at the males training. “Four weeks ago, before I started training these men, no one would have bothered with them other than space pirates and smugglers. Sure, I could have paired them with such clients, and most of them would be dead or maimed by now. But look at them now? In only four weeks of intensive training, using the best techniques, expert instructors, and top of the line equipment, their value has already tripled on the market. Do you know how much it is costing me per day for so many of them?”
The hybrids were using similar light swords as Keran had trained with earlier, some of them fighting one-on-one, others in pairs, and one last group in what appeared to be a free for all. Three Guldan males and a human were closely observing them, occasionally interfering to correct the pugilists. In the far east corner, a fourth Guldan was teaching a dozen hybrids the manipulation techniques of battle staves.
As much as it troubled me, I couldn’t deny the men had dramatically improved in record time. Despite my best efforts, I could never raise enough funding to provide them with this kind of elite training.
“It is impressive,” Keran conceded. “And what did you demand in exchange for that training?”
“This is all free,” Jardan said, spreading his arms wide to encompass the installations of the ranch. “The only condition is that if they take on a role through a different broker that uses the skills I am teaching them, their employer or that broker will owe me an agent fee. But should they decide to walk and not work in this field at all, they will owe me nothing.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Nothing? That sounds like quite a gamble considering the amounts you’re spending.”
He smiled and gestured for us to follow him as he headed towards the second pen. “It is, but it’s a calculated one. Like you correctly alluded to, Dawn, desperate and untrained people will latch onto the first great opportunity that presents itself. This is a chance of a lifetime for them to get out of this dead-end planet, build actual wealth for themselves, and aspire to a greater future.”
“How altruistic of you,” I said mockingly.
He burst out laughing. “Hardly. Neither of you need me to tell you that there isn’t a single philanthropic bone in my body. I’m Guldan. Everything I do is about profit. Happy customers—on both sides of the deal—and a flawless reputation bring in more business. And more business means more credits. I’m offering these men an opportunity they cannot refuse. And they are offering me something no one else can get.”
“Which is?” I pressed.
“Their Braxian genetics,” Jardan said in a mysterious fashion.
“What isthatsupposed to mean?” Keran asked, his back stiffening.
“Look at him,” Jardan said, pointing at Vintor running through the obstacle course in the second and largest pen.
He had pulled out of the ground a thick wooden pole that had been standing vertically. By the dirt smear at the bottom, it had been buried at least fifty or sixty centimeters deep. Slugging it over his shoulder, Vintor ran about fifty meters to a steep ramp. Using his momentum, he climbed it to enter some kind of basin filled with a thick sludge that made advancing difficult.
“How many species possess this type of strength and stamina? Most species wouldn’t even have been able to pull out that pole without some form of assistance, let alone carrying it the way he is. And he’s not even pureblood. Their endurance to pain, their regeneration speed, and natural ability to learn combat is unparalleled,” Jardan said with genuine awe. “Actually, Veredians of the Warrior breed learn combat even faster, but they have none of the other attributes.”
We followed as he continued walking towards one of the repurposed stables.
“And above all, you have something unique that no other species can offer, and for which demand has exploded of late.” As the perfect salesman, he paused to create a more dramatic effect before the grand reveal. “You are immune to negative psionic powers.”
“Why is there greater demand for it?” I asked, my surprise reflected on Keran’s face.
“The Sarenians,” Jardan said with a frown. “Fear and paranoia have always been a great boost to my business. People get scared, they want to hire protection. Thanks to the propaganda the Korletheans spread for years about the Sarenians, people everywhere are terrified of their mind control powers.”
“This isn’t new,” Keran argued with a frown.
