Posted on Fri Feb 17th, 2017 @ 2:40pm by Ryan Allen
Location: Promenade, Deck 589
Allen hated goodbyes but in the case of his overbearing parents he was happy to leave. It wasn't that he didn't love the General and his wife, he hated their constant passive aggression when ever he visited them. The last two weeks were excruciating.
Ryan left the Corps. That was their beef. They couldn't understand why he switched from the cozy life of the military for the chaotic and unpredictable occupation of archaeology; moving from planet to planet, charting courses far from the comforts of a rigid life. Ryan did not crave rigidity. Ryan wanted action that he could control. He wanted to make his own decisions without the constricting breath of a higher up on his neck.
Then why did he choose to open a shop on a Star Base in the middle of nowhere? Opportunity and protection.
It wasn't that he was as greedy as a Ferengi. He could care less about money. It was that here on the MARS facility under the guise of a simple merchant that Ryan Allen could safely sell his acquired items far from the prying eyes and pistols of certain people who wished him harm.
Two years has passed and Ryan's enemies has grown. At least on 249 he'd be safe. For the time being.
When Ryan first entered his shop it was an empty space. Large enough for him to stow and display larger pieces of antique furniture and knicknacks. There was a back area for storage and a Water Closet. Immediately Ryan went to work at started to load his wares inside. After six trips to his small cargo ship, the place was full.
Tables where stocked, shelves were lined perfectly with small items, and tapestries hung on the walls. Ryan was proud of himself. Now all he needed was some customers.