Commerce: Miss Fortune at Jokotre

Bronz gives a short nod, his voice flat. "Ay. We’ll get it stowed. Jury-rig it if we have to—it’ll be secure."

He didn’t say more. He’d moved all kinds of cargo back in the day, some of it questionably legal, most of it needing to disappear fast. You learn quick how to make things fit.

[Aboard Miss Fortune, Crew Common Room | Evening of Day Five, Jokotre High Port Layover]

The galley lights have been dimmed just enough to cast a warm glow across the common room—an echo of a dozen ports of call past. Someone’s queued up soft instrumental music on the overhead. Tamm brought out a small crate of Oaty-Fruity bars from stores (somehow unopened), Said-Ma supplied a proper toast drink—non-lethal, of course—and someone even managed to string up a half-working "FAREWELL ALICE" banner from hazard tape and cargo labels. A solid effort, by Miss Fortune standards.

LC raises a glass—real glass, not a thermal mug—and stands near the table where Alice’s personal effects are boxed and tagged for transfer.

"Well, this ain't the first crew farewell we’ve had, and it won’t be the last—but that doesn’t make it any easier."

"Alice Petrov stepped aboard Miss Fortune with sharp eyes, sharper instincts, and a laugh that somehow sounded like it came with a merchant’s discount. She helped us close deals, sniff out scams, and—most importantly—she held her own through the wilds of Jokotre, bureaucrats, customs, and questionable lubricants."

He gives a pointed look toward Tharrok, smirking, before continuing.

"Now, she’s trading cargo manifests and market margins for a steady gig here on the High Port—and while I’d normally question someone’s sanity for turning down the thrill of star lanes for a desk job, I won’t question Alice. She’s earned the right to chart her own next jump."

"So from all of us—thank you. For the hustle, for the hustle behind the hustle, and for keeping the rest of us on task, even when we didn’t know it."
"You’ll always have a place aboard this ship. Just... don’t expect your shares back if you come crawling back after one too many station meetings."

LC raises his glass again, this time with a genuine smile.

"To Alice. Smooth jumps, strong trades, and a cargo hold that always pays out."

The crew lifts their drinks. Tamm grunts something.... Said-Ma offers a fond nod. Bronz gives a quiet thumbs-up. Tharrok, of course, makes a Vargr but well-meaning toast involving station elevators and broker bonuses.

LC
Selling of the Pharmaceuticals (drum roll) 2D6+2 For Broker adds, minus 10% for Broker Fees

LC arraigns for the procurement of 35 dTons of high-quality wheat flour in the 7x 5 ton containers. 2500cr/ton for a total 87,500 Cr. Leaving 3 dtons in the cargo hold and 5 dTons in the hidden compartments.
Total expenditures thus far is 186,780 Cr.
LC is leaning towards MORA as the next port of call. Hi Tech, High populations, Industrial world, no Smugg.....

LC looks at the Crew
"Okay what do you think of Mora?"

"Mora is fine," the always talkative Tamm says.

Bronz gives a slight shrug, his tone casual but measured. "Mora’s fine… but if you look the other way—Maitz, Lalique, Duale—might be some quieter opportunities out that way. Less traffic than Mora. Just thinking the next steps..."

He doesn’t push the point, just puts it out there—options worth considering.

"Well I'm biased, Mora's home, so probably not the best person to ask. Though I've put a few feelers out, but it's been a while since I went back. Kid I used to supercharge his Flyer for the circuit races is now a big wig for the Millers Hope Archology. Not sure they'll return my comms or not until we jump in system." she shrugged

"Everywhere else was just shore leave, not necessarily the time you leave the best impressions on the locals. Great if you want a night out however..."

LC to everyone in discussion on the next port of call,

LC leans back slightly in his chair, eyebrow raised, the way one might when someone drops an unfamiliar bottle on the negotiation table.
"Lalique?" he echoes, drawing the word out like he’s rolling a coin across his knuckles.
"Do you mean Palique, or is there some quiet little iceball out there named Lalique you and your old mates used to refuel at after less-than-Imperially-sanctioned ventures?"

He flashes a grin—light-hearted enough to defuse the jab, but his eyes linger a moment longer on Bronz than usual.

"Palique's not a bad thought. High pop, industrial, cold as a customs inspector’s handshake—and always hungry for raw goods and offworld foodstuffs. Our wheat could move well there, maybe even fetch a premium. But…"

He flicks open his hand comp and gestures to the starchart projection blooming above the galley table.

"…it's a double-hop from here. Two jumps, two sets of fuel, life support, and port fees—and no guarantee we sell quick at the midpoint. We'd need to budget for it properly, or line up freight to keep us solvent while we move."

He closes the display with a quick flick and looks around the table.

"That said—moving Rimward might not be smart just yet. We’ve only just started making a name. A circuit’s got to be built with intent, not impulse. But if you’ve got a plan forming, Bronz, I’d rather hear it than stumble into it half-blind."

LC gives Bronz a nod—serious now, but not confrontational.
"Talk to me later if you’ve got more on this route. I like options... especially the quiet kind."

"Bronz has merit and thinking outside the box, but Mora is the majority vote from the crew."

Looking at the Drone
"Decherrek, do you have any insight or suggestions before I make this final?"

LC to Said-Ma (aka Mama)
Thanks, so we are good with the wheat and I will work on the rest with Rin.