Space, Sex & Therapy

Chapter 3

Aria was fuming on her way to her office. "I need to see the ship's shrink? The Captain needs to see the shrink if he thinks I'm not fit enough to handle the work!" She slammed her door behind her.

She thought it was unwise for the Federation to ignore the human capital before them and instead treat them like a savings bond that had little to no benefit for possibly hundreds of years. Instead, she believed the Federation should be accelerating the progress of these underdeveloped civilizations and bringing them into the fold before the possible return of the Quillian alien race in Federation territory.

"Too primitive to send a text," she grumbled. "They're smarter than everyone thinks." She dismissed several reminders on her main screen and brought a custom linguistic program to the forefront. A wondertool she designed as her final project in the Academy, this now ubiquitous software helped ships all over the galaxy communicate with new neighbors in a fraction of the time it used to require when establishing initial diplomatic relations.

She realized during her linguistic studies that all Terran-like humanoids across the galaxy developed structures of language in only one of a few ways. The languages of the home world, Earth, were an excellent case study of what once seemed infinitely varied and complex was actually interconnected and simple when analyzed with the power of dark-matter computing.

She opened the source code of her program and made a few changes to accommodate Planet 747-B's specific natives. Maybe she should have been an academic. She was starting to think she was better at research than command. This made her sad.

She plotted on-screen several soundbites from their probes on the planet surface. What her officer colleagues mocked as grunts and whistles, she knew to be the seeds of an emerging complex language possibly only generations away. With the proper inspiration, these people could start communicating via body language and signs long before they developed the idea of intentional verbalized syntax.

Her software went to work and began searching for signs of consistency in their guttural noises when sirens from the ceiling began blaring. Her starport shade closed in response to an emergency. Her heart began to race and then the Captain's voice spoke through an intercom. He sounded distraught.

"Pantel, sensors are blowing up in response to a small, unidentified vessel about to exit hyperspace into our orbit. Navigation is recommending we treat it as a threat until we know more. Get over here and help me prep incognito mode."

As second to the Captain, she was desperately needed to assist during emergencies. This was her time to shine when there were nothing but tasks before her and eager crewmates to follow her lead. She clutched her datapad to her chest and rammed through her door. While dashing down the hallway, Hansel caught her scent and hustled alongside her.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I was walking by your office and heard the Captain say something about a threatening unidentified vessel?"

"Please get out of my face. I don't know anything."

"I just want to know if I should shut down my lab and enact combat security protocols." He dodged out of the way of security personnel running in the opposite direction. While they moved out of the way for Aria, they would have plowed right through Hansel if he stayed the course. "You don't think it could be Quillian, could it?"

"Don't be ridiculous. There aren't any Quillians in Federation space."

"How can you be sure?"

He was being utterly annoying so she pushed him out of the way and burst through the bridge's door.