"It was a pleasure dealing with you, and I'm still interested in having our scribes set out the details for any necessary cooperation to establish a safe haven this side of the Maw."
Excellent! Marco makes sure to store the cup properly to save as much as possible from Triggvaldr's spit, then after reuniting with his crew he double-times to the Biologis laboratory to deliver the sample she wants.
He also calls up the Ark to start scanning the planet both for the exact location of their prize so they can start digging—plus anything they could also take take without wasting much time.
"I imagine this mine of your is the first step of setting up your haven, is it not? If so we have much time to discuss the details. From my point of view the optimal Trader habitat would be an orbital facility above Rook's Crown. This would prevent the more...unruly guests from causing trouble as I've had the headache to deal with, allow you to properly run the facility without my oversight, and allow Star Ships to dock and repair should you make the facility large enough. I'm willing to sign off on the airspace and material rights, though I am quite afraid my own logistic network is devoted to the defense of the planet and can not be directed toward its construction in these trying times."
***
Unceremoniously the Traders return to the Garden, collecting their men. The guards of the feuding traders, including the arguing pilot and swordsman, stand awkwardly at attention not knowing where their own current loyalties lie. This awkwardness is soon broken by the pilot - apparently one of Ruori's men - running up to him and asking an urgent question in a low voice.
"So Boss...she's staying with us, right?"
By breaking the awkwardness, I of course mean enhancing it.
***
You've checked the prize's location before and its location remains unchanged: Deep in the heart of the Fortress itself. Directly below your feet at the moment, appropriately enough.