Pylo was getting rather cross with her past self. How was she supposed to find anything in this mess? She was definitely going to have to sort through all of this junk in Tunie’s holds.

Next trip.

For now Pylo scavenged and rummaged spreading loose clouds of random treasures and obscure wonders in every direction while she tried to remember where she left Tunie’s brush.

This thing had not come cheap!

And she could not give Tunie proper Brushies without it!

Oh she could go through the motions, maybe get some serious high grade industrial machinery from Red weed at exorbitant prices and MAYBE approximate the thing.

But that would be atrociously expensive.

Sure she could just drag stuff across the tines of a ship’s f’terapods. But that would hardly DO anything. Especially not save on any maintenance or shedding needed by the ship due to injury or ablative wear.

No Pylo had needed to trade in bulk secret messaging between two major dominions in order to afford the price for that brush. The credit had been equivalent to a whole hold full of high grade grist.

Almost two full transits worth of foodstuffs for Tunie!

And now in all the excitement of trying to get the passengers a safe place to survive their journey Pylo had gone and misplaced the rock begotten thing!

She was an idiot!

That was the only explanation, She was a failure of her mother’s line and a worthless waste of the care of her progenitors!

She was worse than stone-borne.

If she couldn't find this stupid comb!

She grabbed a gulp of oxygen and flushed her system heavily. She was letting herself overheat and not venting properly.

That would not help anyone.

It was not a terminal disaster yet.

Okay, they had time, it would still take Tunie a little bit more effort to manage to position and shed the last of her transitory velocity. Especially under the safety guidelines that applied to the passengers.

Pylo could search a few of the most likely holds full of junk for the feather brush before they actually settled into dock and Tunie started wondering what was delaying their grooming ritual.

She would have to rush a bit with the negotiations if her search dragged on too long but it wasn't like they were expecting to get much more than initial bid here anyway with the arbitrage being so poor.

Pylo could manage that.

A rush job on the negotiation, throw whatever interpreter/translator/guide the locals used for unfamiliar species at the passengers and then leaping to start getting her best friend the promised brushies!

She could do this.

If she just could find the rapist of a dead stone’s corpse borne thing!

Honestly how hard could it be to find something that expensive and gaudy?

Pylo really needed to get better organized.

First thing after they were loaded up she was going to get a system in place, and it was going to be awesome and she was going to be so thorough and not put it off this time!

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Yeah even Pylo was not fooling herself.

Which was the only one she was actually swearing to.

She was such an awful disorganized idiot!

Tunie was the nicest friend a girl could hope to have. But the big friendly Ship could not understand how Pylo could possibly be anything but the most perfect and best crew member.

It actually made it hurt more when Pylo found herself failing to reach her friend’s expectations like that. She didn't deserve how great Tunie was to her.

Which was why it was imperative that she find that finicky little thing so she could give her friend the brushies she utterly and absolutely deserved.

Because Pylo had made a PROMISE.

And she was not going to break another one.

Not a single one more!

Not to Tunie!

Ah!

[https://i.imgur.com/ZjeVG5J.png]

There it was!

Gleaming just like new and just as wondrous and magical as the first time Pylo had seen it.

Pylo had no idea how it worked, But she knew it was HEAVY when active.

When she sang for it to work its wonders it was tremendously massive.

In such a way that if you less moved it then directed how it should move itself. Pressing the thing without holding the directive grips was like pressing down on the stupid fat worldbeast of Terra!

A hilarious travesty of reason and intuition for something so slender and delicate looking.

She had seen it prop up a load of cargo on its own under acceleration and yet it moved as she directed it.

Just only ever slowly.

It probably did some aether secrets harmonic sorcery or something.

City Magic.

Pylo didn't need to know how it worked. But she knew that it could clean and knit damaged F’terapods like new.

And most importantly of course the restorative effect was something Tunie absolutely loved.

Tunie always keened for the relief and joy of the attention and Pylo could never refuse her.

What had started as an expenditure to help scrimp and save with just a single crewmember on a ship meant for a great deal more had turned into a ritual of bonding for the two of them.

Trip after Trip since those times in their youth Pylo and Tunie had simply luxuriated in each others company.

For Pylo it was a balm for all her failures. She was not good enough for Tunie, she should have done more. She was a Siren and she overlooked basic things like the fact they were hauling passengers instead of cargo!

Tunie deserved better then this.

But at least there was this brush and the care Pylo could give her friend.

And She had found it.

Now she could face the trade negotiations with confidence. She could get the Flatlanders their guide.

She could make sure that there was grist for the rest of the journey and more.

Pylo would manage to help Tunie in so many numerous and wonderful ways to come.

Keep Tunie safe the way she was always supposed to.

The way she had promised too.

And failed.

But it was all better now!

She would not have to break another promise to Tunie.