<a class="link link--external" href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/67/ba/d6/67bad6b09e26897151727e29ffe811e3.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Thomyris “Riz” Heroux</a><br/>Location: Kohlberg Station<br/>Tagged: Iona Knutedottir<br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/>So much was happening in so short a time, leaving Thomyris reeling inside. She wasn’t trying to be slick or business savvy, just logical and what she thought seemed rational. She didn’t do it for points with the Captain or the crew. She needed money too, for her own reasons.<i>At the very least two crew members can simply pick up a crate and overturn it atop of one of ours. Moving the stuff shouldn’t be difficult, just time consuming.</i>Probably be more worries of getting dirty and smeared with volcanic ash than any elbow sores.<br/><br/>Something about the squeezing of her shoulder sent a flutter of tingles down her spine and her expression was utterly surprised in a pleasant sort when the Captain promised bumping her up to third mate.<i>Of the entire ship?</i>This was all starting to seem too good to be true. Her eyes were darting to and fro with the possibilities all that would entail, half missing what the Captain was saying about meeting the merchant and the product in question.<i>Vouch for you as a third mate candidate before the guild…</i>That would garner her a larger cut, a pay raise, and all sorts of benefits. A small heft in the repaying of her loan, but still a forward progress nonetheless. Thomyris could not deny she was feeling very elated afterwards.<br/><br/>Thomyris wouldn’t know much about farming practices – she had come from a mining background herself, used to tearing up the ground, not cultivating it. But the Captain’s offers of side work and personal business had her thinking deeply, trying to visualize and picture how it might be done given St. Anne’s cubic spacing, the size of her cargo hold, and even secondary, unused chambers where a few extra pounds, ounces, or tons of consignment can be placed as well.<br/><br/>She was also coming into possession of a bunch of ash smeared boxes and crates. Those would have to be stored somewhere until they could be offloaded.<i>Oh, the joys of that...</i><br/><br/><b>“Business is business and personal is personal.”</b>She repeated, grasping the concept, though she didn’t think it would be necessary for her to make any such decisions. She had no intention of becoming a Captain herself, whether on her own or replacing Iona. As for recyclers…<b>“We should at least see if the consignment is still up for grabs. Then we can visit one of those botany shops and see what sort of plants they stock, if they have what you referred to.”</b>Thomyris figured. Most ships that made long distance treks and journeys through space often had some sort of green room or gardens. It helped with certain essentials, like air, food, and just plain nice looking aesthetics, a much valued contrast from the blackness of space and the drab colours of a ship’s interior. Of course, it all depended on the quality of the store that happened to be on this particular station, of which she had not seen one yet. Maybe the others had.<br/><br/><b>“I can speak to our new cook maybe…Jin I think is her name? She seems good with plants and so forth, especially when it comes to her profession. Maybe she can assist in overseeing cultivation of recycler plants for the upcoming journey. I’ll ask the others if they see any such shops. Will make it easier for us and not waste time trekking all over the Station for it. I’ll arrange something with her and keep you informed.”</b>So as the Captain turned to lead them towards the Brarvis merchant, Thomyris took her datapad and sent a worded message on the<i>All-Hands</i>Channel.<i>Drop a nav-tag if you see any botany stores.</i><br/><br/>She had no clue what the other crew members were getting up to. Partying and relaxing no doubt while she tagged along with the Captain.<i>Tagged along…</i>Thomyris hoped it was just that, but her pace behind the taller woman seemed to slow as doubt once more set in deeply within her chest and mind.<b>“Captain, you don’t…you don’t expect me to negotiate with the man do you? I never…arranged a deal of any sort like this before.”</b>She stated, before skipping ahead a step to close the distance her anxiety had caused, once more at the Captain’s elbow, looking up at her intently.<b>“I’m not really in the mood for being lynched by the crew because we couldn’t get any work due to me biting the poor idiot too hard.” </b>She added in her dry, sarcastic tone.<br/><br/>She had the analytics and their ship’s details on her datapad at the ready, in case the merchant wished to verify any of their information. It might take some convincing that they could somehow load more onto their<i>Dogged</i>-size vessel than what its cargo size indicated.<br/><br/>The man in question was a grey haired, middle aged individual with a weathered, beaten face and a very bored expression. Ash was embedded under his nails, giving them a blackish tint, much like the dark bags under his eyes. Stressed, he would either be more than willing to find a mover for his cargo or would be utterly suspicious and cranky with the details.<b>“Buying or selling?”</b>He asked when they approached, not even bothering to look up to gauge who they were. He had his ledger out, an actual physical tome rather than something digital, flipping through the pages. There was a lot of red inked figures on his books, indicating losses.<br/><br/>And behind the two women was another who was watching them, having overheard their business talk completely.<i>Recycler plants?</i>The perfect bait was about to be dangled in front of them soon.