Astray Among The Stars

Chapter 9: Bad Deal

First officer's log.
Solar date: Saturday, December 9, 2197.

We finally arrived at the Posneg system after our failed negotiations at the last planet we visited. Hopefully, we can trade this time without any infraction of rules.

* * *

Marlin walked into the board room, his face stern yet calm.
"Larson, it's good to see you're back on your feet."

The crewman smiled.

"But you are confined to the ship for the next three months."

In an instant, his smile shattered. "Sir?"

"That's non-negotiable. You have problems. Straighten the fuck up."

His voice cracked like a whip. A wave of shock swept across the room. Some quietly snickered, others stared. Usually, the commander only snapped at his wife.

"As a result of your recklessness, we lost a trade deal. You left a shit stain on our reputation. On this mission, I'm only taking those who passed their audits of behavior and conduct, with a near perfect score—captain's orders. Prill and the captian will choose this team. You all are dismissed."

* * *

Marlin approached the small group in the shuttle bay, his steps echoing in the vast chamber, his shoes tapping against the slate metal floor. He glanced at his crew members, the leaving party consisting of himself, Prill, and Holloway.

"Prill?"

"Yes?"

"What is your knowledge of this culture? Are there any rules or norms we should follow?"

"The Ponegians, unlike most Kotarins, are a strictly patriarchal society. Females have absolutely no power, which is why the captain and I have selected men for this mission. Slavery is also present."

"Do they have any other customs or practices we should know before we depart?"

"Kotarins are smaller than our own, and the Kingdom of Ponegia has a caste system on body size and fitness for commoners. We will need to keep that in mind. Other than that, I know nothing else."

"Very well."

Marlin gestured to the boxes behind the party. "All right, we have a lot of shit to sell. Get moving."

* * *

Commander's log.
Solar date: Saturday, December 9, 2197.

After thirty eight deals, seven of which were canceled, we have amounted an approximate total of sixty thousand pelkras, just under the cost of materials for repairs, yet one box remains, containing bismuth crystals and other precious gemstones that we bought at our last stop as an investment. So far, we have located no buyers, but Prill is researching on the surface. Hopefully, we can find one by tomorrow. I will head down to the planet and join him. He told me he has an idea of where potential customers visit.

Marlin glanced at his alien guide as their made their way in a bustling grimy spaceport. It was relatively easy to make way through the crowds, as both towered over most of the pedestrians. The Nevran stopped and pointed to a gritty business with a flickering vermilion neon sign between two shops filled with freshly cooked alien food, the air filled with scents of spices and foreign meats. A few Kotarins glanced at them, the hustling crowd making their way past the duo as they stood in the walkway. Marlin followed him to the side, stopping shortly in front of the entrance, the muffled alien techno music inside audible in the busy spaceport.