And to Dust We Shall Return.

genuine calimari

Victor shuffled his feet. They had been waiting in the shuttle bay, in a Union approved display of plastic medals and shoe polish, for the last ten minutes, but so far the important people they had been waiting for hadn’t deigned to show up. This was hardly unusual. It was a well-known fact that the more powerful a culture was, the less they seemed to care about being on time. But it was still annoying. Nobody liked doing these official things. They put everyone on edge. Especially the younger ensigns who were already homesick little bundles of embarrassment potential. Victor shuddered inwardly. It hadn’t been that long since he had been an ensign, and the memories of accidentally deleting all his data on the guests at a state dinner were still fresh in his mind. He had wound up lecturing the Denari vice chancellor on the cultivation of juba beans for two hours. It had not been a pleasant evening.

 Beside him, Dr. Nautilus huffed impatiently as a little stream of bubbles drifted up through the liquid in his eva suit. He was an Altaian. The only one in the union, and the only officer that breathed in water. He also shared Victor’s dislike of union functions. ‘Small talk. Waste of valuable time.’ He’d said. ‘No doubt will be forced to attend. Oh well. Delegates may have brought interesting new diseases.’ 

At last there was the familiar hiss and click of the airlock doors opening, followed by clouds of steam. And several figures, tall and imposing, emerged from the haze. Victor resisted the urge to drop what was left of his jaw, as the creature in front glared down at them. He looked not unlike those big hulking brutes you had to fight hordes of in the fantasy holodeck programs. With leathery purple skin, pointed ears and a squashed up nose.  Even his armor was designed to be intimidating, with spikes and belts and bits of metal plate arranged at interesting angles. If the captain was at all phased by his appearance she didn’t show it, as she stepped forward, and with a bright, breezy smile, offered him her hand.
Welcome to the parks d’jar Sjors, she said warmly. I’m captain Grace Akinde. And this is Victor, our helmsman, doctor Nautilus, medical chief, and Mason. First officer. 

The members of the crew shrank visibly as Sjors’s beady eyes settled on them. For one terrible moment, Victor thought he might decide to punch someone. But the moment passed, and his face splintered into a broad grin. 'Captain!!' He boomed. Taking her proffered hand and shaking it enthusiastically.  'The counsel has told me all about you! The battle on Redek 2. Masterful stuff! You must have ballads written about your exploits.'

'Afraid not.' She said, flexing her, now visibly white, fingers.  'Did get a new set of regulations named after me though. Apparently throwing a bar stool at the Denari culture minister isn’t union policy.'

This seemed to please Sjors, for he threw his arms wide. And with a voice like a cheerful thunderstorm replied, ' Polices, rules, regulations! What are those in the white heat of battle! But that is what you wish to discuss with me no doubt. Only the Union would turn friendship into paperwork.' He chuckled heartily. 'Ah! But there will be plenty of time for that. Come, I have brought a case of Tamlek wine! Today we shall toast the defeat of our enemies!' He slapped the captain firmly on the back, causing her to stumble.

'By all means…' she muttered faintly, as Sjors half lead and half dragged her in the general direction of the mess hall. 

'They seem...friendly…' Victor remarked, as he followed the doctor out.' I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of one though.'

‘Indeed.' Said Dr. Nautilus, nodding sagely 'Suspect those sharp incisors are not just for the aesthetic.'

'Are you sure about that?' boomed a voice from behind them.

Victors artificial heart nearly blew a valve, and he turned around, to find one of Sjors’s officers towering above them. He was a little thinner than the others, and his armor was markedly less spikey.