Inter-Planetary Ferry Services LLC operates hundreds of ferries throughout known space and has a reputation for providing top-notch accommodations and services that cater to the distinctive and sometimes eclectic tastes of the species that book passage with them. The Grand Concourse of Dallas is a shining example of its extreme hospitality and boasts shops and restaurants catering to every taste.

Some passengers preferred a familiar restaurant specializing in their home cuisine. In contrast, others wanted to experience a sampling from as many cultures as possible, and so chose establishments that offered the opportunity to see, feel, and taste everything the galaxy had to offer. It was precisely this reason that brought Tyrena Woolscott to the eponymously named Dallas Lounge.

Ever since she was young, Tyrena had sought the new and strange, wanting to experience the breadth and depth of foreign cultures and how other people lived their lives. A natural ‘people person’, she had gravitated towards a career in sales and found a home in the Commodities Merchant Trade Association as a junior-level assistant. Such was her aptitude that her reputation quickly grew as a bright, honest, and hardworking assistant, and she was eventually recruited by a rapidly expanding private distributor, who offered her own commodity specialization in textiles and fabrics.

This suited her perfectly; she had a keen eye for fashion and a sharp intellect for negotiation, giving her an ideal skill set for finding and securing new sources of raw materials and producers who could turn them into the fine fabrics that her clients sought.

Tyrena regularly took her staff on ‘expeditions’ to find new sources and talent that she could then find new markets for. It was for this reason that she found herself aboard the Dallas with her small staff, searching for their next big break.

Leaning with her back against the crowded bar of the Dallas Lounge, dirty martini in hand, she leaned close to her assistant, traveling companion, and sister, Beth, so that she could be heard over the lively din of the lounge. “This is just like that bar on Tentarus Three. Remember that place, Beth?”

“Yeah, I do, Ty. I seem to remember you flirting with a cute, young Urarc. He would have torn you in half if you had scored that night,” Beth teased, sipping her fruity tropical drink.

“Ah, but what a way to go!” Tyrena replied as they both laughed. They began recounting Beth’s missed connections and old flames when Tyrena spotted a gathering at a large table across the room. “No way!” she exclaimed. “Do you see that table over there?”

Beth’s eyes followed Tyrena’s pointing finger.

Seated around a large table was a group of well-dressed women. They were engaged in an animated discussion, smiling and laughing, while holding drinks of various color palettes, oblivious to the attention from the two women at the bar.

The first thing that Beth noticed was the obvious fact that they weren’t human; the smooth skin of their faces had a slight ashen tint, each in various degrees of shading. Their other unmistakable features were the half-dozen long legs and the black luster of their chitinous lower halves, which rested on seats purpose-built with their anatomy in mind.

“You mean the table full of spider-people?” Beth asked, confused as to why her sister was so excited.

“They’re called the Linyphiidae,” Tyrena said, laughing as she playfully smacked Beth on the back of the head, “and it just so happens they are the galaxy’s best producers of fine silk.” She was practically vibrating with excitement. “If I’m not mistaken, the one at the head of the table is Xyphadia Quil, the Trade Minister for the entire Tarantine Republic.”

The Minister was an older woman, and even though she wasn’t wearing her silver white hair in an elegant braided updo, she sat quite a bit more than a full head and shoulders taller than the others at the table. This was partly due to her height, at least seven feet if Beth had to guess, but mostly due to the other women of the table being quite diminutive, even compared to Beth’s five foot nine; the tallest of them couldn’t be any taller than four and a half feet.

The smaller women wore silk blouses with simple, elegant, flowing lines, each in a different pastel shade of blue, pink, or green. The cut of their fine silk clothes suggested their fashion aim was business casual with a strong, feminine flair.

The Minister, however, wore an ornately decorated, sleeveless robe, showcasing the smooth, delicate skin of her ashen-colored arms that trailed up to a high collar framing her gracefully aged face. Fine threads of gold and silver ran throughout the fabric of her robes, drawing the eye to the intricate embroidery on the collar of the same thread. The light crow’s feet around her eyes crinkled softly as she smiled warmly at something funny one of her dinner companions said, giving her a motherly air.

“What a stroke of luck,” Tyrena confided, “they must be headed to the same trade conference as us.” She rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Oh Boy, the other distributors are gonna lose their minds, when they find out we were able to catch the Minister and her entourage before they even made it there.”

“Ah, I see,” Beth said, the light bulb finally going off. “So what’s your angle going to be?” She asked, trusting that her brilliant sister had already worked it out.

“No angle this time. Their current distributor, the Spindlar Conglomerate, simply doesn’t have the reach of distribution that we do. It would be in their best interest for us to sell for them, doubling their sales overnight. Our connections to the high fashion circuit and distribution network would put them on track for a tenfold increase within five years. The boon to their economy would be enormous. She would be a fool to refuse, and from what I’ve heard, she’s no fool.”

Tyrena tapped her chin with her forefinger for a moment, then grinned widely. Turning her back to the room, she signalled the bartender, who, after attending to another customer, came down to the end of the bar where Tyrena and Beth sat.

“Hello, ready for another martini?” He asked politely.

“Actually,” she said, scrolling through the extensive wine list displayed on the terminal built into the surface of the mahogany bar top, I’d like a bottle of...” she drew out until her eyes locked onto the vintage she was looking for. “The Mendrano ‘56,” she said triumphantly, her eyes sparkling. “Please send it to the Tarantine Minister’s table.”

“As you wish,” the barkeep responded pleasantly, then turned to one of the runners to have them fetch the bottle from the large, glassed-in storeroom at the far side of the restaurant displaying the vast collection.

Their timing was impeccable, arriving at the table to deliver the offering just as the table was being cleared of the main course.

“Madam,” the waiter said to the Minister, interrupting the table’s small talk, “I have been asked to deliver this wine to your table. Would you care to accept it?”

“Who is it from, may I ask?” the Minister queried.

“The ladies at the bar, Madam,” he replied respectfully, nodding in the direction of Tyrena and Beth. The Minister glanced in the indicated direction, and, smiling, Tyrena raised her martini glass in salute, then took another sip of her drink.

The Minister, recognizing the wine for the gesture it was, motioned for Tyrena to join them at the table. “Wish me luck,” Tyrena set her martini on the bar and whispered into her sister’s ear, grinning broadly.

By the time she made her way over to the table, one waiter had brought over another chair, placing it next to the Minister, while another brought enough wine glasses for the table.

“Good Evening, Minister Quil. I’m Tyrena Woolscott. It is an honor to finally meet you in person,” Tyrena said as Quil gestured for her to take the empty seat.

“Good Evening to you, Ms. Woolscott,” Quil replied, her mind searching her memory to place her. “We’ve met before?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It was two years ago, on my first trade mission. The conference at Erozet Prime was well attended, but you were unable to attend in person and instead had a holo-presence there. I’m not surprised you don’t remember me; my only job that trip was to stay silent and observe, learn as much as I could. Our team only had a few minutes of your time.”

“Gudrani Galactic?” Quil, even in her twenty-sixth decade, her memory was as sharp as ever.

“Yes, exactly,” Tyrena said with a smile. “I’ve recently been promoted, and now I’m working to expand our services for those wishing to sell across our sales territory. My staff and I are headed to the Trade conference being hosted Remano Conglomerate on Darkan, where I suspect you are headed as well,” she said.

The waiter had finished pouring the wine, so the Minister took her glass and held it up to the light, examining the wine. She raised her eyebrows in appreciation of the complex but not too sweet dessert wine and motioned for the others to taste their drinks.

“A lovely wine, thank you for the gift,” Quil said knowingly.

Tyrena returned a glowing smile. “A cheap ploy; I hope you don’t mind my attempt to start a conversation, with this vintage in particular,” she baited.

Familiar with this dance, Quil bit, allowing Tyrena’s attempt to work up to her pitch. “I quite like this wine, where is it from?”

“This wine is from Bellandrau, a planet in the Mendrano system, on the far edge of Gudrani Galactic’s distribution territory,” Tyrena said purposefully. “I deal with textiles, but our wine buyers leverage our network and distribute all the way from Bellandrau to Centrailia.”

There it is, Minister Quil thought to herself, amused. Then aloud, “Gudrani has quite the expansive range.”

Tyrena, pleased with the course of the conversation, continued her pitch. “Yes, quite. We’re proud of the network we’ve built and hope to impress upon the producers at the trade show the benefits of working with us, yourself included.”

Quil took another sip of her wine, appreciating its palette and smooth finish, and briefly glanced at the other women at the table to gauge their reactions. With keen interest in their eyes, they gave her a subtle nod of approval as Tyrena continued.

“I am familiar with your current arrangements with your distributors, and as luck would have it, our and their territories only overlap in a few systems, which we would gladly defer for the opportunity to represent your interests in the markets where we operate and they don’t have a presence.” Tyrena took a sip of the wine, a symbol of the reach Gudrani had, to bolster her argument, then set it on the table.

“You’re quite eager, aren’t you?” Quil asked rhetorically. “After all, we’ll be arriving at the conference in just a couple of weeks, and the Guildmasters and I,” she nodded to the other Linyphiidae women sitting at the table, “will be up to our eyeballs in distributors looking to secure rights to our silks. Wouldn’t it be prudent of us to see what other offers are presented to us?”

Even with the jousting, Tyrena sensed she was winning over the Trade Minister. She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. “You’ve got to admit, though, It’d be an excellent arrangement for all parties,” she said, half-grinning as Quil smiled at her. “I have contacts with a majority of the fashion houses on a hundred worlds throughout our distribution area. Your silks are the finest in the galaxy; all I want is the opportunity to be the one to introduce them to a wider audience, then eventually the whole galaxy,” she added with a bit of hyperbole. “I’m just asking to get a little jump on the trade show.”

Each of the Guildmasters had an excited glimmer in their eyes as they indicated their assent. “Alright, you’ve convinced us to give you a shot,” Minister Quil relented. “Arrange for a meeting room here aboard the Dallas, and we’ll discuss your proposal. We’ll have the porters bring the samples out from storage for your review.”

“The facilities aboard the Dallas are excellent,” Tyrena said excitedly. “I’ll book a conference room within the next couple of days; would that give you enough time to get ready?” she asked.

Minister Quil gave her a lighthearted laugh, almost musical in quality. “You really are an eager one, aren’t you?” Seeing Tyrena tense momentarily at the thought she’d done something to upset her, she continued quickly to put the ambitious woman at ease. “A quality that I would hope to see in a prospective trading partner.”

Tyrena visibly relaxed, her expression melting into one of relief and anticipation, grinning as Quil leaned over to refill her nearly empty glass. “It’s well past time for introductions,” she announced, then stopped a waiter and requested another clean wine glass. “Call your friend at the bar over so we can all have a drink, and I’ll introduce you to the Guildmasters of finest spinning and weaving houses in all of the Tarantine Republic.”

From across the room, Beth could see the big smile on Ty’s face and knew her sister’s inexhaustible charm had won the day. At her sister’s beckoning gesture, she downed the dregs of her martini and crossed the dining room to join her at the Linyphiidae’s table.

As the waiters brought over another seat, Tyrena wrapped an arm around Beth’s waist, pulling her close. “Minister, this is Beth Woolscott, my sister and the best assistant anyone could ask for.” Beth stood a little straighter before introducing Quil, still trying to make a good impression. “Beth, this is Xyphadia Quil, Trade Minister for the Tarantine Republic.”

Though not as gregarious as her sister, she still knew how to charm, giving a wide smile as she offered a polite bow. “It’s nice to meet you, Minister Quil.”

“I’m delighted to meet you as well,” Quil replied with a small nod. “These esteemed ladies,” she said, gesturing to the other Linyphiidae women at the table, “represent the Guild houses from the three worlds that produce our finest silks.” The six women beamed with pride at the Minister’s effusive praise.

“From Corth’s illustrious spinning and weaving guilds, Varastra Krys and Dravalda Lix, respectively.” Each nodded as they were introduced.

“Representing Zialara Prime’s guilds, Nyma Syrn and Yav Quorna.” They too inclined their heads in acknowledgement. Then the Minister’s attention moved to the final pair.

“Last but not least, Nalura Tet and Thalia Phi, from the ruggedly beautiful world Velamides IV,” Quil said with pride, finishing her introductions.

The guildmasters were all beautiful and shared the same basic body structure as the Minister, albeit with a more diminutive stature. They all had raven-black hair that matched the luster of their chitinous lower halves, as Quil’s hair must have been at one time before turning white with age, and shared the same slightly ashen-colored skin on their humanoid upper halves, though each had varying shades.