"This is good... but not good enough."

Rek refrained from commenting, standing quietly to the side with both pairs of arms crossed easily behind her back, watching her employer as he moved along the metal-barred crates. The richly-suited Tlahsn's expression seemed half-distracted, but Rek knew he was mentally tallying up this latest batch of creatures, attempting to predict the kind of appeal they'd hold towards his clientele. Always the businessman.

Tucked away in the dark belly of Rek's transport ship, the crated creatures were all in assorted states of tranquillisation. The harmless ones were drugged just enough to keep them quiet, and these were the creatures that watched Rek's employer with blurry, semiconscious eyes. The rest were sedated so heavily they'd sleep through a supernova -- otherwise they'd be lashing out through the bars with serrated claws, stinger-tipped tails, tentacles possessing iron grips, or any other number of dangerous appendages. All together, they made up Rek's cargo and livelihood.

As a mercenary, Rek T'sohl was used to taking on all kinds of odd jobs, but this particular employer -- she didn't even know his name -- had always given her some of the oddest. He was, of all things, the owner of a massive spaceship, a mobile zoo, and it was Rek's job to keep it supplied with the animals that drew its customers. An odd job for a mercenary, but for one who disliked delving into the darker realms of blackmail and assassination, it was one of the best-paying posts she'd ever found.

Turning away from one of the larger crates and its black-spiked occupant, the man Rek knew only as "The Boss" fixed her with a practiced, apologetic look, his antennae half-curled submissively. "Now, T'sohl, I'm not saying I'm ungrateful, but there's nothing particularly new in this batch. They're all bits and pieces we've seen before, just reorganised in a different combination."

As she was expected to, Rek nodded, as if she agreed. Always agree with the client, unless they want you to disagree -- that was the rule. In truth, she didn't really care about the animals she'd caught this time around -- but she did care that The Boss was only half-pleased this time. That meant she'd either not get hired again, or...

Pacing back down the aisle between the twin rows of crates, The Boss stopped in front of Rek and looked up at her with that practiced, grandfatherly gaze of his. Short for his race, and unusually stocky, The Boss was completely unimposing, and that was why so many liked him. Rek occasionally wondered if he'd be liked as much if the public knew what he stooped to just to ensure his zoo had animals that no other establishments, nomad or not, had even heard of?

"T'sohl, I'd like you to go out on another run," The Boss began, his deep voice holding a earnest tone that Rek knew by now was half-feigned, but she wasn't bothered by it. That opening statement meant she'd get paid again, and that was what mattered.

"I don't want a bulk run this time," he went on, rubbing his substantial chin in thought with one of his greater hands, while the other tucked in the small of his back, and his lesser hands clasped in front of him. "This time, go out and just find one or two beasts, but make them beasts of a kind we've never even dreamed of! I don't care how long it takes you, or how many planets you have to examine, but find me something new. You can do that for me, can't you?" The Boss turned his eyes on her again, that gaze so open and trustworthy you wanted to trust it immediately, and which for that reason Rek knew it was at least half-false and very well practiced.

But it was not Rek's place to judge the ambition of a megalomaniac, now, was it?

"You can count on it, Sir."