Trade deals

Flass was already sat in one of the chairs in the ready room, feet propped haphazardly on the desk by the time Dustin and Meli caught up to him. “Shut off all the side passages so I couldn’t go snoop at your tech without causing an interplanetary incident, smart kid. Alright, sit down lad. I doubt you have anything worth drinking on-board, so don’t bother offering me anything. We’ve got business to tend to.” As he said that, Meli set a glass down next to him having retrieved it from the automat. “What’s this?” the Rabyth said, glancing down at the glass. “It’s a human drink made from distilled root vegetables. After analysis, it has been found to contain a similar chemical composition to Paroiss, with a much lower ethyl content - for this variant, only around twenty percent.” The artificer-general glanced at the Velca for a moment before taking a sip before grinning and downing the rest of the cup. “It’s like drinking a glass of Harva, only with a proper taste to it. What did you say this stuff was called? And get me another glass if you don’t mind, maybe the humans have some things worth trading for after all.”

Meli obliged the old man’s request, topping up the glass with more of the clear liquid and then setting the bottle next to it. “It’s called Vodka; we have several bottles on board. On which note, please be advised that I request you do not return the favour by giving my nest-mate Paroiss. Humans struggle to metabolize ethyl content over around 45 to 50 percent, and their taste-buds are unlikely to be able to appreciate anything once it exceeds eighty.” Flass grinned at her and nodded. “No poisoning your man, got it. Still, if you’ve got several bottles on board - once we’ve done the business I’m here for, could I trade you something for a couple of bottles for my family? It’s a really good soft drink you’ve got here.”

Dustin made a mental note that the Rabyth were apparently immune to ****, and coughed before trying to get the discussion back on track. “So, artificer-general” he began, before the Rabyth cut him off with a wave. “Call me Flass please lad. I’ve got a good feeling about you humans already, don’t ruin it by being overly stuffy like the research nuts.” He glanced at Meli and added “no offence.” Her ears flicked into amusement and she replied “none taken” quickly before Dustin started talking again. “Ok, Flass. We need an engineer; your species was one of the sponsors for our mission in the first place as I understand it, so we should have a Rabyth on the crew, and if we’re going to do that, chief engineer is the obvious role.” He took a deep breath and then added “obviously, that would come with some perks for the individual in question; they’d have access to study much of the technology aboard - our design ideas and so on, and I’ll be happy to answer what I can about our decision making process.”

The artificer-general interrupted him at that point with a sigh. “It’s not going to cut many rivets lad. Problem isn’t your offer, it’s generous enough. Problem is that most Rabyth who are good engineers don’t want to leave the system - hell, even the ones we **** to go help kick-start colonies return home half the time as soon as their mandatory service is up. I’ve put out a general request for volunteers, but I’m afraid what you get will be what you get. It’s why I wanted to meet with you. If you’d been useless, I’d have made up some bachrana-dung about how I would get you the finest personal recommendation and then just foist the first recruit I could get on ya. But you seem a decent enough lad, so here’s what I’ll do.” The old man leaned forward. “Once I get back to the station, I’ll round up the volunteers and send them over for you to interview and pick from.”

At this, he pulled a clearly well-used tablet from one trouser pocket and tapped it. “We’ve got a grand total of five. Ermia, Maroc, Flarr, Ney and Rye. All capable enough although…” and here he paused, tugging at one long ear absent-mindedly before continuing “Maroc’s not one I’d have expected, keep an eye on him. Should be fine, but he’s got some links with less-than-savoury elements I believe. And Rye is - how do I put this - a bit of a special case. You’ll understand when you meet her. Probably.” Dustin smiled at the list. “Having a choice of five is brilliant, given how hard you say it is to get your folk to go out of system. Thank you for the kind consideration.” Flass gave another of his waves. “Don’t mention it lad. Now, lets talk about that - what was it called, Clod car?”

The arrangement to get five candidates to interview had taken less than half an hour. The negotiations over one of the ship’s several crates of vodka - some sixteen bottles to a crate - took far longer, well over two hours before they were done. The old Rabyth had begun by casually mentioning that haggling was not only culturally quite important to the Rabyth, but also something that he didn’t get to do very often over little things like this due to his role. At that, Dustin’s initial plan of gifting the bottles to try and build a positive relationship went out of the window, and he settled into the fierce negotiation mindset that had once (over a decade prior) allowed him to get a complete set of “important galactic citizens” trading cards over the course of a school week despite starting with nothing besides a half-eaten chocolate bar and three buttons.

At the end of their discussions the Rabyth had left the ship after shaking Dustin warmly by the hand. “You’re a credit to your species, ship-father. I’ll see the first of the shuttles dispatched immediately, and the second your new engineer can use to bring over any of their stuff they want to keep on board.” Dustin nodded, adding “the bottles have already been transferred for you. Thank you again, and I look forward to our next meeting.” That’d gotten a chuckle and a comment that sounded suspiciously like “I doubt my wallet is looking forward to it” from the old man as the airlock closed. Turning back to Meli who had accompanied them, Dustin raised an eyebrow curiously. “Well, nest-mate?” he said, stressing the last word as obviously as possible. “How do you think I did?”

Meli’s ears flickered into an approving position as she replied. “Better than I’d hoped, and I’d expected great things from my lover” her voice went husky over the last word, causing Dustin’s toes to curl with the sudden change from the normal monotone. “Two shuttles and an engineer as well as good relations with an important species in exchange for a few hours of time and sixteen bottles of easily produced human beverage. Remind me never to try and negotiate with you for favours.” Dustin stepped forward and kissed her briefly. “Don’t worry, I’m far more generous with those I care about” he said, winking at her before turning to head back to the ready room. “Let’s go make a plan for figuring out which of these Rabyth we’re going to let into our love nest shall we?” He called over his shoulder, marvelling - and not for the first time - at how much his confidence was growing now that he was finally in a role that he was excited for. The fact that the curvaceous woman who hurried to catch up with his departing steps seemed to be infatuated with him also helped quite a bit, he had to admit.