"So what's your plan? Not something that far off—just for this planet right now."
It took Howard quite a while to calm down. He kept rolling his eyes, like someone trying and failing to burp. Outside the porthole, the icy world slowly rotated, its white surface growing ever more intense, like an ice cube in a wineglass radiating cold through space.
"Make a deal with them. I save their planet, and they acknowledge my ownership of it. Simple as that."
Su Ming folded his arms, calculating something in his head.
Howard stroked his mustache, clasping his hands over his stomach. He felt a little sick. "And then? You start taxing them? Turn them into labor machines?"
"No. Taxes on this planet will only be symbolic." Su Ming shook his head and took a bottle of liquor and two glasses from his belt pouch. "I need it to become a galaxy-famous low-tax planet and trade port, so manpower is what this planet needs to develop."
"Why are you so obsessed with doing business?" Howard took a glass. "Can't you just deter them with force?"
Su Ming poured the liquor into both glasses. The reddish-brown liquid rested obediently at the bottom under the simulated gravity. "You should study politics again. Don't ask me who is more productive, slaves or free citizens. Living beings only give their all when they work for themselves. The problem now is how to guide them into doing what I want. For now, I've decided to lure them with profit."
"Heh, so you plan to control them with food?" Howard sniffed. He felt a little sorry for the aliens he had never met.
The most basic interest people had was acquiring the necessities of life, and food naturally came first. Howard had already understood Deathstroke's plan.
"Food and