Main / 1105-003-Drinax

Calendar

1105-002 -- 1105-003 -- 1105-004?

Timing of events
14:00 - Rasha Ulna meeting with Maeve

14:00 - Drinax Surface - Draeon Valley Landing Area- Tuaal Tribe Area

[Rasha Ulna] “Have you checked them?”

[Maeve (NPC)] “Yes.”

“And they function?”

“Yes.”

Rasha Ulna looked at the respirator he held in his hand. It was manufactured for the bio-storm ruin that was his world. And yet the woman in front of him, Maeve, said it came through her contact from the Floating Palace. The overlords of Drinax did not make mistakes like this. “How much?”

“Just trade.”

“How much?” Rasha emphasized the question seeing Maeve did not want to provide an answer.

“Grain. Just one ton of grain.”

“One?”

Maeve nodded her head. Rasha looked at the respirator again turning it over and around as if it would fall apart with each movement.

“Only one ton?” He could not believe what she was telling him.

“He said it was a mistake. They hadn’t been ordered and they had no use for them on the Floating Palace, so he brought them here.”

Rasha placed the respirator with all the others lying in the small cargo case and shook his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t make sense. Why not withhold them until the next scheduled shipment.” Rasha stopped and looked at Maeve trying to measure her. Could she be lying to him? Was this part of a con? She never had before. There was no reason to believe she’d start now. “And he didn’t make any demands? No promises? No suggestion of something more?”

Maeve returned Rasha’s gaze. He knew she understood his skepticism. “No Rasha, nothing. Rash, take it for what it is, a boon from someone that has a conscience. We know that not everyone on the Palace agrees with the overall consensus that we Vespexers are disposable. Common sense proves that.”

Rasha exhaled quickly through his nose as his eyes and head rolled to the side. Common sense was a myth.

“They have to provide adequate gear and education. Otherwise, we wouldn’t survive and they’d have to either come down here themselves or go somewhere else for goods and materials. They don’t have the skills to mine and they aren’t about to lower themselves to actually work. They have to keep us alive and if not thriving, at least maintaining.”

Rasha threw up his hands in front of him. “Alright, alright, al-right, Maeve. You’ve made your point. They need us. But I assure you, this is no gift. He’ll come back wanting something. Probably with another offering trying to buy our trust, and compliance. And if we don’t give it, he’ll just move onto one of the other tribes.” Rasha paused as a thought occurred to him. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No,” Maeve answered.

“Let’s keep it that way. If word got out, spread to the other tribes . . . there could be trouble.”

“That’s why I came to you.” Rasha nodded his approval of her decision. Maeve looked up at him with dark brown-green eyes. He knew she wanted more than the relationship he had limited her to, but involvement meant complication and responsibility and he was not ready for either one.

“Let’s just rotate them into the current stock. Maybe rough them up a bit . . . dirty them so no one notices . . . and keep this between ourselves. I don’t want anyone asking questions.” He hesitated before turning away. “And Maeve, next time this benefactor calls to make an unscheduled meet, I want to be there.”

Maeve nodded.

Rasha turned and left. Gifts from above were never gifts even if they did cost a mere ton of grain. Maeve had been the one on duty when the call came in and there had been no time to rouse anyone. She said her contact called on approach and said it was urgent. She had met him herself, something Rasha told her never to do again. If anything happened to her . . . he didn’t want to think about what he might do. But if this benefactor did return, she wouldn’t be alone. Rasha had to figure out how to make sure Maeve got the call if the benefactor did call again . . . and how to explain a ton of missing grain.