Ranma was a bit worried about using the free trader excuse when flying an executive transport. He didn't know it yet, but it was moments like this that he was eventually going to be thankful for the fact that the Beagle was a supped up Firefly.
Had he gotten around to reading Jane's Starships of the Galaxy, he would have known that the Firefly-class was an older model of medium transport that was almost omnipresent in the Rim systems in and around Alliance space, and was now becoming common enough elsewhere to still be on the business end of inconspicuous. Apparently while Carthy had spared little expense upgrading the ship from a busted old freighter to a top of the line personal transport, he'd made sure that it could still do a damn fine job masquerading as the former in a pinch, at least as long as no one looked under the hood or decided to ask too much questions about the hard wood paneling and all leather interior.
It was ironic then, that for all his worrying, that the only thing Ranma needed better to fit the wandering Free Trader mold was a trench coat and maybe a pair of really tight pants.
Honestly, had he really considered it, his biggest problem would probably be English. Nanami had spent a great deal of time using every means available to drill the English language into his head, and he'd gone to being able to ask where the bathroom was, kind a, to being able to converse. A major step up, but he still wasn't fluent. Still, he could hold his own, he hoped, as long as he didn't have to deal with any funky accents.
Talking a deep breath to banish the butterflies, Ranma walked through the front door of the trade post and walked up to the attractive but bored looking woman standing behind the counter. Taking a whiff of the air he was pleasantly surprised to discover from her scent that she was in her fertile period of the month, a fact which caused his blood to stir if just a little, though not as much as simply being within twenty meters of Nanami, and sure as hell not enough to make him do anything stupid.
“Greetings miss,” he said giving her her best smile, as he turned the Saotome charm onto full blast.
“Weel, arenae we a charmer? Hoo can ah help ye the-day, sairrr?” The woman purred in a Scottish brogue thick enough to cut with a knife.
Ranma blinked. Then, he blinked again. “Excuse me? What was that?” he asked.
“Ah said, whit dae ye need?” she replied frowning slightly.
“Oh, sorry,” Ranma replied, “My English is still...” he stumbled over the proper word for a moment, trying to get the point across while not looking like an idiot. “Raw.”
“Och, ah see,” She said with a smile. “Yoo're frae a body ay those ethic colonies whaur sassenach is a second leid. sae whaur ye frae 'en?”
Ranma blinked. “I'm sorry, but I didn't understand a word you just said.”
“Och, dornt fash yerse, Ah gie 'at a lot,” She paused for a moment, “Yoo're frae a body ay th' japanese colonies ah tak' it?”
Ranma blinked. He didn't understand a damn word she'd just said, save one, and hopefully it would be enough “Yeah! I'm Japanese.”
“So do you understand me now,” she asked switching to the language, speaking with complete fluency.
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I understand ya. Couldn't understand a thing you said in English though.”
“My parents were Scottish,” she replied, “I'm told my accent is a bit thick. So what is it that you need?”
“Meat and grain,” he replied.
She nodded and nodded to the screen. “Just fill that out and we'll get started.”
Ranma nodded and quickly input the amount of food he could buy with the budget they'd agreed on. He'd chosen pre-slaughtered livestock as they didn't want to deal with live animals, and added a freezer shipping container to the list because while the Beagle's refrigerator was big, it wasn't that big.
He was pleasantly surprised by the low price of the food, he guessed there was a benefit to ordering in bulk, but he also made sure to over order. After all, he didn't know how his family would grow and it would look strange if he under ordered and there was that nice volume discount. In the end he found himself with almost 10 metric tons of meat and grain. It was a lot, but he'd think they manage. All else fails, they wouldn't have to buy much in the way of food for a year... maybe two.
Processing the order he look at the woman.
“Everything is in order, but you didn't give an account number...”
It was moments like this he was glad they found that huge wad of probably stolen money in Carthy's quarters on the ship.
“I'm paying in cash,” he replied, pulling out a huge bundle of bills.
The look on the girl's face was down right comical.
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(Posted Mon, 01 Feb 2010 12:27)
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