Every night now, there was a meeting.
They started small, just one or two farmers and this new business man, someone from off-world with empty pockets and big dreams.
Eventually, the word spread, and bigger gatherings started to pop up; first gaining momentum in the outposts, but eventually there’d be one in some basement in the biggest settlements each evening, a different spot every time.
Slowly but surely Lalslan wove a network of personal and business relationships that interlaced through several settlements, farms, and industrial sites. The Harvesters, as the base laborers that did the actual collection were referred to, were a varied class- but all united by their desperation and poverty.
He watched the market carefully, mindful of the little causes that made big disturbances in price and availability. When he caught wind of an opportune time, he struck.
Summoning the full weight of the alliance of Harvesters, he was able to control the entire available economy and essentially shut down all trade. In the resulting tumult, he was able to turn some fortunate negotiating to his side.
It wasn’t long, maybe a couple weeks, before the alliance splintered. Powerful forces with far more resources than Lalslan could muster had been agitated and now moved in to control and mitigate their losses.
It didn’t matter though, he was walking away a very rich man.
Now he had more than enough credits to buy passage on not just the next freighter, but the next passenger transport. He would be traveling in luxury, with his worries far behind him.
One morning he knew it was time. He’d caught news that some of the enemies he’d made while crafting his fortune were looking to recapture their losses. He’d have to make it look natural, not like he was trying to escape. On the way to the spaceport, every passing citizen seemed to watch him; every car seemed to slow as it passed.