You Find Yourself On Jovan One Day...

[Wake Thresher]

It was a first for him. Never been on Jovan Station; heard stories about it, but never set foot aboard. Too many things to be done on the ranch. Just too many. There was moving the Redfins to the seasonal currents, making sure that the Hornfish didn't find a way to wander through to other territories. The Seaquines were easy enough, though even they got flighty when the undertow got too rough. Least the surface ponds gave a bit of respite. But, the thing about making your living raising foodstuffs, people inevitably wanted to buy those foodstuffs. And bought them they did. Mostly the Redfins, though. Not many had an appetite for the Hornfish. Well, was mostly the folks that didn't want to expend a lot of energy to get at their meal. Made the Redfins perfectly appetizing.

Thresher Ranch held a decent enough contract with the Alliance, and when the Pride chose to jump into the mix, business only got better.

And business was what brought him to Jovan.

An entire hold of Redfin - some on ice, but most live. If there was one upside to trading with the Pride, then it was that they inadvertently saved him time in the slaughter pens.

Reef Rider had gotten clearance to dock at Spire 4, and Wake Thresher had subsequently stomped his way through the umbilical to deal with the customs agents on duty. He wasn't sure who or what to expect, as this was his first delivery to the station. He'd dressed accordingly though, as being out of the water lent a necessary change of clothing type. A buttoned shirt and a pair of ronto skin work trousers. Nothing fancy, but his father had once said long ago that the attire of a working man was as important as the work he did. Good advice.

With cargo manifest in hand, Wake thumped his way onto the station proper, pausing to stand up straight once he'd passed through the doorway's threshold. Shoulders hitched back, and beady black eyes narrowed as his head scanned to either side from atop a thickly muscled neck.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

The bottleneck at Spire four's zone of debarkation provided a perfect location for a security and customs checkpoint. Isolated from the main station superstructure and reinforced with heavy bulkheads of solid durasteel, the zone of debarkation was by design a safe place to screen and potentially accept new arrivals and their cargo.

Dondaarro, Rei'kuurri, and T'suuka each stood at the threshold, prepared to help or hinder as was called for. The three male Jaani'sarri marines kept their heavy blasters slung over their red-armored shoulders. In lieu of a weapon, each used a scanning wand as they meticulously waved down luggage and passenger alike.

"When is shift over?" Dondaarro asked in Cizeri with a sigh, handing a Rodian his suitcase as he stood aside.

"We've still got an hour to go. Hang tight marine!" Rei'kuurri laughed, clapping Dondaaro on the back as he moved to the next man in line.

"Ugh, it's no use. This is the most boring duty on the station. An hour might as well be a whole other day!"

Behind them both, T'suuka grunted as he pushed an over-laden gravity sled along.

"Yeah, and I'm hungry!" T'suuka added, brushing back a handful of dreadlocks over his shoulder.

"You're always hungry, T'suuka." Dondaarro rolled his eyes, taking a human's identity chip to pass in front of the scanner. "Always. It's 'when do we eat', or 'where do you want to go eat' or 'I'd just rather be eating'. How do you not weigh two hundred kilograms, you pot-bellied Gamorrean?"

"I don't have a pot belly!" T'suuka halted in place in outrage, moving a hand to trace along his abdomen, which he realized too late was covered in armor. "I don't have any kind of belly! Rrou Arraasshee wouldn't be seen with me if I did."

T'suuka looked smug in that moment, causing Rei'kuurri and Dondaarro to double-take with each other.

"Bullshit." Rei'kuurri scoffed with a tail swat, nearly clipping a growling wookiee as he passed by.

"Yeah. Bullshit." Dondaarro put a hand on his hip in derision. "Rrou Arraasshee is too classy for a tail-dragger like you."

"I mean, she's too classy for *you* Dondaarro." Rei'kuurri pointed out, which elicited a growled snap from the coifed Naala'in dandy.

"Hey, watch your mouth!" Dondaarro showed fangs, then primly fixed his hair. It wasn't explicitly said, but it was more or less understood that he was the most handsome of their threesome. Then Rei'kuurri, and then...T'suuka. In that order. Which is why T'suuka's insinuations were so laughable, ridiculous, and...

"Is...is....is that a rancor?"

"T'suuka, you..."

Dondaarro turned around to face the inbound queue, meeting a looming alien that was nothing but leathery skin, muscle, and teeth.

"...idiot."

The smirk fell off Dondaarro's face. His ears raised, lowered, and raised again. At the last moment, he remembered his protocol, and his basic.

"Welcome to Jovan Sstatjion. Do jyou have anjythjing to declarre?"

[Wake Thresher]

Almost mechanical-like movements heralded the appearance of a dataslip. Held between two meaty fingers, Wake held it out for the customs officer to take. There was no mistaking the wide eyes of all three of them, and he couldn't help but square his shoulders back and straighten his posture so that he stood slightly taller. He already towered over the two, but it never hurt to drive home the fact that - if you had a size advantage - it was best to make sure that everyone knew it. He had been known as the toughest rancher in his small community back home, but he wasn't back home, was he. Regardless, Wake had a feeling that it would be prudent to... put a strong foot forward.

"Comin' with the shipment of Redfins for yor merchant stocks; some alive, some not so alive."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Huh.

Dondaarro took the dataslip with a succinctly blank expression on his face. He glanced at it, then back up at it's keeper.

Huh.

"It can talk."

Rei'kuurri's tail curled in a swishing loop as he stepped alongside the turnstile.

"Yeah. It talks better than T'suuka!"

"Hey!" The dreadlocked punching bag retorted, instantly hushed by "Shut up!" in stereo.

"Did he say Redfins?" Dondaarro double-checked the manifest, giving it an approving flick while Rei'kuurri peered over his shoulder.

"Oh man, the best!"

"I'm hungry..."

"Shut UP, T'suuka!" came the tandem rebuke again. Rei'kuurri gave their third wheel a look.

"It's not like we get a free sample, you trash compactor! We log the manifest and inspect the cargo."

"How close can we inspect?" Dondaarro quipped with a chuckle.

"Goddess, not you too."

"Relax," the Naala'in replied with a breezy shrug, "I'm not that stupid."

Clearing his throat as a cue to switch back to basic, Dondaarro pivoted back to the large alien with a grin.

"Of courrsse. We'll ssend a sscannjing crrew to jyourr sshjip, and clearr jyourr carrgo forr entrrjy, Arr...err...Thrressherr?"

He glanced quickly to the docs to confirm the name, then returned to the alien.

"Do jyou have jyourr own grravjitjy ssledss and ljive tankss?"

[Wake Thresher]

"Wouldn't make a delivery without having 'em on hand," was the succinct answer.

It was always one of those precautions that you took. Didn't want to be caught with a cargo you couldn't unload. Was a constant in the unwritten rule-book of ranching.

Wake looked deliberately from one face to the next until all three had been given a narrow-eyed appraisal. Meaty thumbs hooked into oversized and unused belt loops. He couldn't stand here all day, and these three dandies seemed more willin' to prattle with themselves than get the ball rolling of their own accord.

"Reckon you'll want t'make yor initial inspections then?"

[Untaaura Verratoa]

Dondaarro and Rei'kuurri nodded affirmative. T'suuka followed suit a second later, having momentarily lost the plot somewhere between a daydream. Dondaarro flashed an easy smile, checking his coiffed hair with a quick hand pass.

"That jiss prrotocol, Arr Thrressherr. But don't worrrjy. Mjy team jiss verrjy fasst - verrjy thorrough."

He elbowed Rei'kuuri in the ribs, prompting him to chime in.

"Ah-hum. Verrjy thorrough, Arr Thrressherr. That'ss usss."

T'suuka missed the chime-in window, distracted by grinning and cutting moon eyes at a female Togruta in the adjacent line. Rei'kuuri elbowed him in the ribs.

"Rredfjinss!" he blurted, suddenly back on target.

[Wake Thresher]

These three seemed to have a strange way of going about their job, and Wake wasn't all too sure that the last one who spoke was fully cognizant of his duties (or even in general, really). But, things being as they were, he wasn't really about to start a fuss here on the station. After all, the sooner that they finished, the sooner he could begin the offloading.

A moment later, and his enormous bulk shifted stiffly to the side. Thumbs still hooked into the beltloops of his trousers, his head angled so that it his eyes remained on the three.

"Then we'd best be gettin' this done."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

A presence suddenly encroached on the situation, and whether Dondaarro caught wind of her by sight, sound, or the feeling of the hair standing on the back of his neck, he immediately changed tact, going rigid at attention.

"Saarrda'rrou narr he'ei!"

That strangled all of the loose talk, as even T'suuka got the hint. The Marines fell into a row as Major Verratoa approached. Though the other marines and Thresher easily dwarfed her, the scar-faced officer didn't seem to notice. Cap wedged at the crown of her head so the brim lowered severely nearly over her eyes, she took the dataslip from Dondaaro's possession. A few seconds passed as she browsed the contents.

"Tau'raarri a'cheei shaa. Su'diiet."

"Ya Ve!" the marines replied in unison, almost as a shouted sigh of relief. They immediately made themselves scarce from the immediate vicinity, returning to the more mundane duty of being a benign nuissance for the other visitors. That left the Major alone with Thresher. Only now did the short woman glance up to acknowledge the alien's presence.

"jI am Majorr Verratoa. jI wjill handle the sscannjing of jyourr sshjip."

No nonsense and direct, Untaaura extended a the blade of her white-gloved hand in the direction Thresher had come from.

"Come wjith me."

[Wake Thresher]

The woman, short in stature though she was, knew how to make herself heard and obeyed, and Thresher had to admire that. This little shift in who would be scanning the Reef Rider was no big deal; and in fact he was fairly certain that it would get done at a much more clipped pace now. Having three officers who seemed to have guppies swimming between their ears might've been an exercise in patience.

Tromping back the way he'd come, the Karkarodon made sure to adjust his pace so he didn't overtake the Cizerack. Then again, her stride was as clipped as her introduction, and he suspected that she would've kept up no matter what.

Back through the umbilical, and back aboard his ship. The interior was dark and spartan, the humidity set a bit higher than most other ships, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. Pulling a rolled up flimsi from his shirt pocket, he passed it to the Major.

"Secondary count, verified by the export office on Karkaris. Also the registration numbers of each live tank and cold-vat."

He knew that he'd not really needed to have the extra work done, as his Alliance papers and license would've been more than enough, but when dealing with the Pride, his father had made sure he knew to have more information than he'd really need. It went a long way in showing one's dedication and ability to follow procedure in matters of trade.

[Untaaura Verratoa]

A pescaline aroma hung in the air as thick as the humidity. Pungent with a note of saline. It was hardly unpleasant to a Cizerack nose, and Untaaura was at once reminded of how long it had been since last chow. As quick as the idle thought appeared, she stowed it, walking at a brisk pace alongside the Karkarodon as he handed over his secondary count. She only slowed to scan it, checking the count against the database.

"jYourr home porrt jiss Karrkarross?" She asked as a rote procedure, already having the answer ready for her on the pad. "Two dajyss trranssjit...have jyou had anjy losss of ljive jinventorrjy?"

[Wake Thresher]

"I wouldn't be a proper steward if any had."

It was an answer rumbled out with simple words, yet there was pride in his statement that was unmistakable.

Leading the way to the main hold, the Karkarodon stepped through the arching doorway and into the cavernous expanse that was lined with reinforced tanks, each filled with swarms of Redfins. The sleek fish darted about, their bright red fins - from which their common name was taken - flashed in the dim lighting. The rest of their bodies glimmered in silvery flashes, scales glinting and sparkling.

"All healthy," stopping at a wall panel, Thresher smacked the wide plate that would turn on the brighter glowglobes that were mounted along the upper edges of the hull. Gradually the illumination rose until the rest of the hold was no longer cast in dimness, and instead rows of live tanks could be seen stretching back. Two tanks held the Hornfish, their rocky-looking bodies not nearly as appealing as the Redfins.

"Cold-vats are in the secondary bay; everything packed in cryobeds."

[Untaaura Verratoa]

"Wherre'ss yourr desstjinatjion and cljient?"

Interstellar trade blurred the lines between many kingdoms. Business met galacipolitik met military and domestic security met environmental concerns. Marines of the Trade Navy were often tasked to act as point agents, to grease the wheels at the intersections to prevent holdups. It meant that the officer corps had to be aware of a lot of the goings-on of trade, even the distinctly un-sexy parts. Untaaura paused on her own mental checklist, taking a moment to look up at the shimmering fish dancing past the transparisteel.

Thresher was at least keeping the speedbumps to a minimum. Definitely looked like he'd done this a few hundred times.

[Wake Thresher]

From his second breast pocket, he pulled out a rolled-up flimsi, unfurling it with ease.

"Got the list of intended merchants here," he held it out for the woman, "... complete with amounts allotted and tallies for each payment once rendered in full."

It was usually standard procedure to receive half the agreed upon amount before, and the rest once delivered. That was how his father had always done business, and it was a solid method.

"My weights are within acceptable limits," he finished without fuss.

A thumb hooked back into a beltloop as he waited with aloof patience for the all-clear.