Private Don't Forget To Stop And Smell The Subglacial Pseudo Algae

[Niysha]

Niysha nodded quietly. She'd expected that sort of response from someone who was coming here looking for funding for his own ventures. What they needed was a return... and at this point, they weren't going to be getting it from Tilon Quill. At least not now. Not immediately.

But while Adekos hadn't managed to teach her his snake oil salesman tongue, he'd imparted on her thick, empty head more than a few lessons about good business practice. Tilon needed capital. He was begging for capital at no down payment, with no obvious return. Niysha and In needed profit, but their need wasn't as dire, and they had more bargaining chips. Neither of them were in a hurry. This meant they could play the long game.

In that moment of realization, the "long game" became very, very clear. The Miraluka gave a little grin drummed her fingers softly on the table. "It occurs to me, Mr. Quill, that your main problem - finding benefactors - would be solved very neatly if you just had something to show potential investors. Collateral or a down payment, whichever you might call it."

Niysha's face turned physically towards In for a moment, still smiling, then returned to Tilon. "An ironic hell not of your own making; you need investors, but have no capital with which to woo potential investors." She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, leaning her head back a bit to "look" up at the sky. "A problem that could be very simply solved by approximately four antique statues and one priceless relic."

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

The first shape that took in his head was 'lie to investors about the first taste of a voyage's prospective take,' which was mostly probably out of bounds and had its risks anyways. When he realized the other shapes her proposal could take, though, his main reaction was feeling caught just as flat-footed by her idea as he had from In's negotiating.

"Let me see if I'm understanding this right," he said. "We go to someone together. We bring your bag of goodies. We say 'we know what to look for, what's valuable out there. Here's a taste of what a good expedition could bring back. You take this to the core, you'll make tens of thousands, hundreds maybe. It's yours; all we ask is a funding line for an expedition with a token advance to get started, call it ten or twenty thousand...' Is that what we're talking about? Would that work? Is money that...imaginary?"

In Rhan Niysha

 

[In Rhan]

"Money is absolutely that imaginary." In affirmed, audibly amused. She wished she'd thought of the arrangement first, but alas. She'd have to content herself by having a brilliant partner to think of these things on her behalf. "Credit is just that - credibility. Some rare art pieces and the holocron behind your pitch gives you credibility. Gives you credits."

In turned towards the table, placing her palms flat as she leaned on it. "We still need to find a buyer. We're working uphill, since our names don't mean much out here. That'll hit our payday a fair bit. Anyone willing to invest in your expedition needs to know you aren't just going to run off with the lucre. You'll probably have to account for every chit and credit until they trust you. And shelling out to us the moment you get paid means giving up the game - they'll know right away that you didn't find the holocron out there, you got it from us." In explained pointedly. "Which means we're on the payroll when you get funding. As informants, couriers, logistics - whatever. That's how you get our cut to us without angering your patron."

She stood upright again, folding her arms. "Obviously I have no desire to go back into the Unknown Regions ever again, if you hadn't guessed." The Pantoran explained. "So this is just how things'll look for the bean counters. The question becomes finding you the right patron, and working on your pitch so it works this time."

 

[Niysha]

And there went In again. That was good, honestly. Niysha didn't really have much experience starting up business deals of any sort, while In was at least a meagerly successful entrepreneur. It still wouldn't be right for it to be a one-woman show, of course. And it was Niysha's little bag of ancient, fancy rocks they were using, so she'd need to give input regardless.

Niysha sat quietly for a few moments and slowly finished her caff, before zipping up the bag full of ancient fancy rocks. No reason to make it any more of a target than it already was. She absolutely didn't want to lose her primary asset, her only sweater, and her lightsaber all in one fell swoop. As she swept the bag from the table and and secured it safely in her lap instead, she kept her attention visibly focused on Tilon.

"If we're going to construct an approach for you, we'll need to know as much as you can tell us about what you're trying to do," she offered eventually, when In seemed satisfied at her level of gushing. "I'm hardly one to judge you for avoiding sensitive topics or withholding problematic information, but the more we know, the easier it will be to make it all sound attractive to someone who's never met you."

Every once in a while, someone mistook Niysha for being stoically wise. She assumed it was a consequence of how she expressed herself, because it definitely wasn't because of any actual wisdom or experience. For example, if she did this time, it was a particularly ironic farce; these are lessons she'd learned with harsh consequences minutes ago that she was still presently dealing with. In the future, she'd need to be a little less obfuscating.

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

Coming off such a cataclysmically failed pitch, e felt a juvenile hesitation to lay out his plan for fear they'd notice holes in it or just plain find it worthless. That feeling went away the moment he realized that he knew exactly what credible role would suit them.

He set aside the mug and its ice-cold dregs, flipped up the collar of his new peacoat to shield his neck from the wind, tucked his hands into his pockets, and dug in.

"Calimancha isn't just the gateway to Grek, it's a springboard beyond it. It's got the right jump vectors and the right—" He pointed up at the skyhook tether jutting up from the city through the clouds into orbit. "—supply lines. This year, Grek collided with the Prime Galaxy, and astrophysicists at the Outbound Flight foundation think it could have torn an unprecedented hole in the hyperspace barrier at the edge. But Outbound Flight is still busy with the aftermath of their expedition to a whole other galaxy — they don't have the time to come out here and check.

"Whoever's first to verify and chart that breach into the intergalactic void can name their price for the maps they make. There are dozens or hundreds of systems outside the barrier; they're the extreme edge of the galaxy. Nobody anywhere has connected with them or knows what they offer. If there really is a way through to them, the mineral scans alone would be worth a small fortune.

"I was a commscan officer on that extragalactic expedition. I know exactly what kind of equipment we'd need and how to talk with whoever we find, no matter what languages they speak. But I can do it simpler and cheaper than Outbound Flight can, with off-the-shelf ships and standard crew. As a trial run, I just co-led a dozen ships halfway through the Rishi Maze and broke even, no casualties. What I'm proposing has more risk, a chance of much higher payout, and the same low startup cost as the operation I just ran. If there's no breach, we trade with the far side of Grek and probably break even.

"Every long-range expedition needs a dedicated lifeline connection back home. A hard link for comms, someone to dispatch help or resupply — we'd use light droid ships — and someone who can pitch the take, have buyers lined up for whatever we find. Running the lifeline is the role I'd see for you two. It would just mean staying in this sector for a few weeks or months, with a reasonable wage and a cut of the final profits.

"Well? Was this more or less what you expected to hear?"

In Rhan Niysha

 

[In Rhan]

'An unprecedented hole in the hyperspace barrier'. Sounded a bit familiar, really. Many such cases. At least In now had had explanation for how they'd wound up in Grek after that disastrous jump. Knowing didn't help defer the costs or make the harm done to Niysha any less, but maybe there was a closure to it.

"Your pitch is pretty good, Tilion." In decided after a moment of thought. "I wouldn't include your fail contingencies in the up-front explanation, it makes it sound more risky. Let them ask what the plan for the breach not being there, so you look prepared when you have an immediate answer. That's how I'd handle it." The Pantoran woman suggested, putting her hands on her hips. "I'd also probably throw in some figures from another planetary discovery or contact event. 'Name your own price' is big and excites the imagination, but beancounters don't have one." She chuckled, considering the last of her drink. A thin sheen of ice had formed on the surface. In poked a hole and continued drinking.

"Your biggest fear in this should be them knowing about Dayark." She speculated. "Insofar as springboards into the unknown go, that's the one that'd come to my mind. It took no time at all for that planet to go from an expedition hub to a sleepy little nowhere." The Pantoran woman mused.

 

[Niysha]

Niysha nodded as she thought of a way to construct her own input. Business wasn't exactly her specialty, but numbers were much, much easier. After a moment of shuffling, she had her datapad out for the "visibly measurable results make for greater impact" portion of the argument. Hers was a Miraluka accessibility model, meaning that it was in almost every way a completely normal datapad, only the screen had more stringent electrical patterns to make it easier to read with her unique vision.

Really, all that meant was that the color ratios were odd and there was a little glare for non-Miraluka.

Her fingers danced on the surface for a minute as she added her insight. "I feel like it's not just that not having solid numbers to offer is a detriment. It's really hard to overstate the impact of large numbers, and you can come up with some very large numbers about planetary economics if you try." Tap, tap, tap. "A hypothetical: you find one new system and determine a route. Your survey determines that there are at least 300 million tons of a specific mineral, and that that mineral sells for 100 credits per kilogram. The potential profit margin for strip-mining just that single planet is over 30 trillion credits." Niysha held up the datapad to show off the very large number with all of the zeroes.

She took her pad back and kept playing with numbers, at least half trying to make a point, but absolutely maybe a little bit just having fun with calculator hypotheticals. "Because a single share of this planet can turn such an absurd profit, you have to set your price for each map determinate to the number of copies you create. Scarcity drives prices up; a limited number of encrypted maps makes them much more valuable. Your benefactor wouldn't be getting sole access to this massive gold mine, which means you'll need to find a different profit incentive."

"Business wasn't exactly her specialty." Also, she was weak and cowardly, unreliable and relatively stupid. The galaxy wanted not for mercenaries, but for therapists.

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

With his datapad kaput, Tilon did his best to take mental notes. Leave out the no-breach trade contingency. Add some comparator figures. Address the boom-and-bust of it all. Limited number of encrypted maps to keep the big numbers just this side of absurd.

The Festival of Youth's afternoon events were kicking off rapidly. Snow-flecked tourists and celebrants in the streets, acrobats, dancing, stimulants, sugar, colour and sound. A concert of some kind was starting up elsewhere, by the echoes. A good atmosphere to spend money; Tilon had very little right now.

"Thank you for all this," he said. "I know it's to all our benefit but I should've said it before. Going out, making a living like this — it matters to me. My alternatives are running comms on any given station or bulk cruiser, or latching on to the Jedi Order's imperial teat, or trying to carve out a space on a homeworld that wouldn't recognize me. So I need to be good at this and I really do value you two taking the time to take it seriously."

He eased himself off the table's bench uncomfortably. His cold joints had gotten used to that position.

"I'm going to go down to the spacers' hostel, reserve a bunk, see if I can connect with those guys I talked about. Between whatever I hear and whatever you hear, tomorrow we'll have ourselves a potential patron or two. Just if you...decide not to go through with it, find a buyer, whatever, if you could let me know I'd appreciate it. I can scrape together your base five thousand if it comes to that." A lightsaber could sell for that much, maybe.

In Rhan Niysha

 

[In Rhan]

In glanced at her partner excitedly tak-taking away on her datapad with visible fondness. What a huge dork.

"I get it, Tilion. Really." In promised, her expression sympathetic. "There was a point in my life where I would have given everything to get off-planet and into space. And then I did give everything up and got off-planet. I wouldn't want to live my life any other way but under my own terms and direction." Even if she didn't agree with the goal, his cause was admirable enough and In couldn't bring herself to dislike somebody with that kind of drive. Tilion had a momentum to him, a sort of contagious energy that made her want to help him succeed.

At least half of that was the festival. It sounded REALLY fun. If they were going to get a chunk of Tilion's commission in the next few days, maybe it couldn't hurt to splurge a little. It'd be a shame to miss out because they were playing it safe.

"If it helps, you may also want to include that you have a member who served on a Silk Holdings deep exploration vessel." In added, leaning back on the table after shifting her legs a little. "Just don't bank too hard on that credential. I was just a kid, and it didn't work out well. Bury the data point in a list of other incentives. It'll pad out the presentation, look good to your investors, but ideally you want them asking about other stuff."

Tilon Quill Niysha

 

[Niysha]

It'd become a pretty consistent data point in Niysha's life that she tended to be surrounded by two kinds of people: unbelievable monsters who made the Force around them shudder with every quaking step, and talentless goobers with crippling self-confidence issues. With the latter, she was in good company. Right now there was a mess of zero-confidence schmucks all trying to kick together the basics of a plan over cold coffee in a very cold market on an extremely cold planet. This was about par for the course.

Which, of course, led Niysha not to pity, but to sympathy. This was her and In most of the time. In fact, this was her and In today, just a few minutes ago. She didn't begrudge Tilon his momentary wallow. "It's unlikely we'll find any more hobbyist antiquarians unless we go looking for them, and considering we have an interested party, it would be extremely bad business sense to sabotage one deal to go fishing for a price war that might never come."

Lots of words. Break it down. "Your investment is safe at the moment, Mr. Quill, as is our partnership. Secure your lodgings. We'll leave you with the Dancer's code and you can check in when you have more information."

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon filed the last few points away. He'd try to revisit this conversation in augmented memory later. He was afraid he was misunderstanding elements.

He thanked them for the reassurance and headed off for the hostel. The long day had worn him down and the caf was wearing off faster than he'd like, and he was halfway there when he realized he knew the perfect market for those statuettes, one that might even pay more, and more reliably, than the holocron's average possible price. But it was a month's travel away or more, and they had a real plan already, and he was too tired to think it through properly.

The spacers' hostel had started as the ship's brig. All its amenities fit in among bars and guard stalls and defunct forcefield emitters. The bunks, on the plus side, were not original. Tilon hired one, closed his eyes for an hour, and began asking around.

His luck turned. He met people who knew his old shipmates from Calimancha; he bought a cheap drink or two; he got a name. Just one, but one could be enough. He even ran through his amended pitch and asked how they felt the potential patron would respond. After compensating for the evening's cheap revnog and general friendliness bias—

 

[In Rhan]

While Tilon Quill saw to his business, In had some chickens to count - and she wasn't about to stand around and wait for them to hatch. Between getting dropped out of hyperspace on the other side of a galaxy, getting roasted by a star, and having to spend the better part of a month repairing the Dancer in Green, she and Niysha needed a win. Especially a win that was soothing to the skin and rejuvenating, considering the harm that'd been done to Niysha due to aforementioned star and whatever nonsense she'd pulled off to save the ship. While Niysha might've been fine quietly sublimating frustrations and turning the other cheek, In needed to blow of some steam - and that meant pampering.

First, she spent way too much dragging Niysha to the finest spa she could unreasonably afford. Massage, skin treatments, soaks in algae baths, curated food laced with health supplements. Manicures, pedicures, hair treatments, and more - a full work-up, head to toe, with as many mood-altering substances as they wanted. This alone took the rest of the day and most of the night.

They stayed in a proper hotel, and in the morning, went out to enjoy the festival proper. Food tourism, mostly, though In took advantage of the opportunity to buy some much-needed additions to hers (and Niysha's) wardrobe and get a temporary tattoo across her shoulders in a bioluminescent algae-based ink that looked a fair bit like stylized lichtenberg scars or circruitry. Just for fun. After all that age-reducing spa treatment, her skin felt great and she'd wanted to decorate it - though In wasn't sure about the actual age-based effects of Calimancha's famous algae.

Naturally, the best way to test it had been to saturate herself in as much of the stuff as possible, just to see what would happen.

Hopefully Tilion had some good news for them, because as was her usual habit In had left herself just enough to get food and fuel to the next system and not much more than that.

 

[Niysha]

After her close encounter with... honestly, just about everything that could possibly go wrong in space without involving pirates, Niysha desperately needed the downtime. The specialists didn't really know how to interact with her eyes, of course, but Niysha wasn't about to complain after the hell she'd gone through. A good night's sleep and a decent meal was always appreciated, and far more common since she'd met In. It was strange how just a warm bed and passably healthy food felt like luxury when you'd lived like an adult street rat for ten years.

The next day, Niysha emerged from their shared shell of comfort and excess with a warm dress with an equally cozy shawl to show for all of the splurging the previous day. She'd dug into the small budget she still had left over from when she met In in order to get her partner a pretty little faux-gold necklace, as a return investment on all that she'd been doing. Thus adorned, she made her way down to the hotel's cafe to wait for news over datapad, commlink... Force sending? Trained carrier pigeon? Tilon was quirky enough that he might have any number of bizarre ways of getting back to them.

At this point, though, the three of them were noticeably intertwined. She couldn't let her mind wander without thinking of either of the two of them. Likely the effects of the holocron; she'd seen the like before. Were she a bit more given to Sith superstition, she might have thought the effect to be emotionally parasitic, to force bonds that would encourage nearby Force-sensitive beings to protect it. A study for another time, maybe.

While she waited, she had plenty of reading to do.

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon liked to chat but time was of the essence. The message came to their number by simple text. It started with an address in the engine blocks and a timestamp less than an hour hence and proceeded in block capitals.

MEETING WITH LORD URS VANVURDIL
KESHIRI FROM SCAR WORLDS
LONGEVITY BROKER
BANKROLLED MINING SURVEY LAST YEAR
AND ONLY BROKE EVEN
BRING THE GOODS
T. QUILL

He was already halfway there, and fast-walking within the confines of a snow-crusted peacoat, taking the small amount of extra time to ponder a dilemma.

One of the esoteric skills of his youth came from Suerton gamblers. He could bend probability. Not enough to break a casino, not that he'd ever tried, but enough to make a thrown saber hit its mark. Maybe enough to turn one chance with a given buyer into two. Whether that was in the same ethically murky ground as a mind trick for personal gain was very much on his mind.

In Rhan Niysha

 

[In Rhan]

Saturating so completely in the celebrated algae of Calimancha had perhaps been a mistake, In reflected as a peacekeeper gave her a skeptical look for keeping an unlit cigarette in her mouth. After spending the past day bathing, eating, and generally saturating in the stuff, she perhaps looked a bit TOO young. It'd probably wear off given time, a spa technician had assured her. In couldn't help the thought that occurred to her - this stuff would sell like hotcakes in the core, if she could find a supplier and a way to transport it. Perhaps a cosmetic company might want a supply line. It was worth a shot. If nothing else, a bit of resale could help make up some of the splurging she'd done.

They caught Tilion's message while in the general vicinity, and arrived not long after he did, having had to stop for directions. In led the way, leading Niysha confidently through the crowd - though there were less people on the street near a wealthy manor than there were at the festival proper.

"Yo, Tilion." In greeted casually, raising a hand on the approach. Her shoulders and hair were dusted with snow, but it didn't seem to bother the Pantoran in the slightest. Her outfit had been chosen to show off her new necklace, simple as it was. "You eat breakfast yet? I probably shouldn't have any more of these." She laughed, holding up a foil package of fried, algae-saturated taquitos, still steaming. Her voice cracked slightly with vocal fry as she made the offer, which was not common for her.

 

[Niysha]

As it turned out, the preferred way Tilon had decided to communicate was about one step removed from short wave code. Quirky as expected. Despite her ethereal appearance and generally detached demeanor, Niysha had a surplus of experience in moving quickly, so when In started on her way to the meet up - immediately, with all due haste - it wasn't Niysha holding her back. Hopefully they hadn't kept their new business partner waiting long.

When Tilon looked her way on their approach, Niysha made sure to lift her bag slightly to indicate she was carrying it, then wave. Priorities, especially for a shaky deal like this, and especially with someone as skittish as Tilon Quill seemed to be. Her own breakfast was long gone, but a can of caff to keep herself warm was probably enough to indicate that he'd caught them during breakfast.

"Good tidings, Mr. Quill?" As always, she was very quiet. Niysha's voice wasn't quite a natural whisper, but it was certainly close enough that she needed to be within a meter to be heard properly in busy areas. Fortunately, early morning was hardly busy.

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon, whose breakfast had been drip caf and some little thing that called itself pastry, accepted the algal taquitos ravenously and with profuse thanks.

"I think so," he said. "The spacer I was with last night, a friend of a friend, told me the pitch would work very well for Lord Vanvurdil."

He gestured at the address across the street: an emplacement of great respectability and opaque purpose, like business offices the universe over.

"We've got a few minutes before arriving early. Thanks for hurrying. You two look fabulous. Time to put all that good-quality sleep to work."

In Rhan Niysha

 

[In Rhan]

In was happy to hand the things over and flip her hood up, giving the manor a considering look. "Thanks. We pull this off? I'll give you a tour of the place who did our skin treatments. You'll need the funding." She promised dryly. While she'd intially suggested her and Niysha's role as a way to launder money away from curious investors and into their pockets in exchange for sealing the deal with the statues, they were in it too far to walk away now. Tilon Quill had pulled them both into his scheme, and at the very least In was too financially motivated to just walk away. Sure, the guy also seemed nice and she wanted him to succeed. But one thing at a time.

Giving the office an appraising look, In lamented the years of maturity temporarily lost to algae overdose. She'd have really liked to bring more near-thirties-seasoned spacer energy to this negotiation, lend a little more credibility. Alas - they'd have to figure it out. Between Tilon's drive and Niysha's brilliance they surely could. "Let's get moving, then."

In set out across the street at a brisk walk. Knowing that they were so close to the place without taking steps towards resolving it didn't feel right. This was a big score, and she wanted to get her hooks into it - or at least find out quick that she wasn't so she could start working up alternatives.

Niysha

 

[Niysha]

Good news, indeed. Clearly he'd had been working hard. "Good to hear you had a breakthrough," she replied with her standard chill vibe and distant smile. It wasn't a victory, but it was a shot at playing the game in the first place, which was still worth a small celebration. Whether or not this went well, she and In could always just hop back in the Dancer and go fishing somewhere else; Tilon didn't have that kind of fortune. Surely he'd make his own... but if they could help him make his own right now?

Then through that victory, the chains binding him to this planet - to this task - would be broken.

Niysha had sometimes considered that there was one specific precept of the Code upon which she disagreed with her peers... if she honestly had any of those, at any rate. Evangelism. So much of Sith scripture talked about freedom, and so much of Sith schooling was about oppression. Helping others find the strength for their own freedom should've been a much larger part of their beliefs. It made the entire galaxy a stronger place.

Now, in this place, she had a chance to enact that on even a tiny scale. Just one person. That was good enough for her. "I'm sure your plan is brilliant, Mr. Quill," she offered quietly along the way. "If you'd allow me, though, I think I might be able to help. My grandmother taught me an old family trick that might help your nerves a bit."

Tilon Quill In Rhan

 

[Tilon Quill]

Tilon hustled in In's wake.

"I'm sure your plan is brilliant, Mr. Quill," she offered quietly along the way. "If you'd allow me, though, I think I might be able to help. My grandmother taught me an old family trick that might help your nerves a bit."

The moment felt like it deserved a quip but none came together. "I'll take whatever advantage I can get," he said on the curb outside the place. He took stock of the factors they'd so painstakingly assembled.

In favour:

• A more-practiced and combined pitch.
• Up-front collateral.
• More concrete information on the potential payout; he'd dug up better comparator data on Wild Space survey initiatives and the long-term numbers looked appropriately large.
• And along those lines, a seriously impressive potential payday.
• Oh, and all three of them were wearing better clothes.

Weighing against:

• It really was a weird pitch. 'Here is a good chance of a hole in space, but we don't know for sure...'
• "...and there is a reasonable chance of extreme value on the other side, but we don't know for sure.'
• Who the hell were the three of them anyway?

And — he threw caution and dubiously applicable scruples to the wind — he intended to draw on the Force, on the Suerton skill his father had taught him, to secure a second chance if necessary. If a sin, it wasn't unforgivable. You had to live.

In Rhan Niysha