Fast Finances

Even after a post-workout shower, Riley wasn't wound down enough for bed, and she was still waiting for word on if all the deckhands were dead or in jail. If they were, they were shit out of luck on both counts, their asses, live or dead, would be left on Santo. Clad in a pair of military issue grey sweats,(not sweets, Jacy!) and a tank top, instead of heading below deck, she headed to the cargo bay, and, with her head tilted, contemplated opening the crate that stared back at her.

*"I'm in need of this crate to be delivered to Ezra within 12 days - so if you need to make a stop or two in between, that's fine. I need the crate safeguarded. There's nothing the Alliance would care about, nothing explosive, or corrosive, but of great personal significance. You'd be delivering it to my brother on Ezra. Due to the extreme, personal importance to me, I'm willing to pay handsomely."*

Pay handsomely were the operative words, but she was still suspicious. Usually they need to solicit to try and find work, a task she planned to charge in the future to Jacy, she pictured the ability to do so would be in the girl's wheelhouse. But this one, it fell right in their lap. No feelers sent out, no sign out front, none of the grunt work or negotiation of terms. She was looking a gift horse right in the mouth, and it had suspicious written all over it. Well, technically, it had 'fragile' written all over it, but it didn't stop it from being any less suspicious. But then again, the man dropping it off said he was willing to pay handsomely, and those two words strung together meant she could easily stow her suspicions. They had a destination. Ezra.

Riley moved on to the galley, grabbing a mug for tea with a shot of whatever the captain's drink of the day was would help with the unwinding . Ezra for the most part was a desert wasteland, at the very least, they wouldn't likely hit much trouble. She still planned to set out feelers and see if they could find any more goods for transporting to the Georgia system as long as they were heading that way. Fuel cells, rations and payments to the crew would need to be deducted, but that could all wait until morning.

The Captain was still half asleep at the table, so she helped him back to his quarters. She thought briefly about sending him down to Devron's, just for shits and grins, but the mechanic was really the only one hard at work, so she decided to leave him be. The Captain made his way more or less down the rungs of the ladder, it'd make much more sense for him to take an upper deck room, but his ship, his room.

"By the way, I told Adler I'd talk to you about what he's gonna get paid."

"Which one is Adler again?" The captain slurred from mid climb.

"The dentist who I just hired to be our doctor. Fixed Laloyd's face, and Devron's face, and Vas's face, Gil's stab wound..." The Captain was hearing a lot of names being thrown out and everything had started to spin.

"Right, right, right, right. Does this count as us talking?"

"Aye Sir. I'll make sure it's tended to."

Returning to the galley, she set on a kettle and made some tea which smelled distinctly like moss. Adding two shots of whiskey to the mug made it smell like moss that someone poured whiskey on. She curled her lip and sipped it slowly. Why couldn't the captain just be a fan of something normal, like Earl Gray?

Taking a slow sip to nurse the steaming beverage, she started working on finances, including that paid by Lyen, and the 'found' money from the mysterious crate.