LF Friends, Will Travel

Amander Blake awoke slowly, the general ache of her body being the first thing she felt. Instinctively she tried to take a breath, finding nothing but a sweet tasting gel filling her lungs. Panic coursed through her slowly awakening mind as confusion took hold, the unnatural feeling of breathing in the thick blue liquid driving her hands to the sky, breaching the surface of the gel in a single frantic motion. Fingers scrambled for purchase, finding nothing but empty space as with one violent movement Amander sat up: Spraying Medigel across the floor, coughing up handfuls of the nanobot infused gel and taking a first breath of actual fresh air.

She desperately looked around with confusion, at the spaceship she found herself in. A small craft that had definitely seen better days: half the consoles and display panels blank and powerless, many walls clearly having been rapidly patched together recently with quick fixes. Even now the sound of welding and the operation of tools sounded out from the various rooms that made up the space, various small drones doing their job to repair the damage of the attack.

“Her Ship. This was her ship. Her ship was… under attack?”

Yes, that was right. Amander could feel the post-stasis confusion starting to wear off, the numbing effects of the Medigel dissipating as the material quickly dried and started to flaking off on contact with air. There had been a Estorian Empire war cruiser out in the middle of nowhere and... the assholes had fired upon her little three person exploration vessel: “A Shining Star”.

Which both did and didn’t explain why Amander was currently sitting in a half opened medical stasis chamber.

“Sleeping beauty awakens. Welcome back to the land of the living.”

The artificial voice of DRAKE, the ship’s AI sounded out from an unknown source. A voice that sounded forced, the positive humoured greeting overlaying a more sombre tone. The AI would agree with the assessment that their current situation left little to be actually happy about.

A rasping sputtering sound erupted from Amander as she attempted to speak for the first time in weeks, grasping at the glass of water already being offered by one of the AI controlled drones and downing it in one go. Eventually being able to stammer out two words in a thick southern accent.

“St- Status report.”

“‘A Shining Star’ was completing survey contract X55-66A-5B when it encountered a Estorian Empire war cruiser unexpectedly. The unidentified vessel fired upon ‘A Shining Star’ without warning or provocation, disabling several key components.

Upon attempting a repair of said components a second volley caused critical damage and injured one Amander Blake. Injuries included, amongst other things: 47 broken bones, a ruptured kidney, a deflated lung and a ventricular rupture. Death was prevented through the use of a medical status device. ‘A Shining Star’ has spent the last three weeks making repairs and getting ready for the assumed upcoming task.”

This made sense based on the memories quickly returning to her un-numbing mind. She remembered the initial attack, attempting to fix the damage, then a whole chicken coops worth of pain.

But there was something suspiciously missing from that summary.

"Where's Fluur?"

Amander had been part of a rescue operation on a failed Zorthian colony, a little over two years ago. The Salamander looking amphibians had chosen an unstable planet as their first foray into the galaxy, causing them to require an emergency evacuation. Among them had been a brave little Zorthian called Fluur who had been manning the communication relays down to the last minutes, helping organise the impromptu Terran alliance rescue effort.

So with Amander's contract as captain of the trading vessel "Texas forever" coming to an end and desperate for something new, she'd brought the small craft she was now on, and offered the plucky fishboy a job.

The Galaxy was a large place, most of it still unexplored. There always was some cash to be made for diving into the unknown, and that had been their life for the last two years.

"Drake, I ain't playin with you. Where's Fluur?"

Amander broke the silence again, eventually causing the AI to respond.

"I can not be certain, as critical systems were offline at the time, but the most likely outcome is: members of the Estorian Empire warship took the Zorthian known as Fluur with them."

This caused Amander to jump up with a start, a shocked fearful look in her eyes as she stumbled around, attempting to gain her footing after three weeks of not moving.

"Why the hell did you let me lie around doing nothin for three weeks while those bastards have Fluur!"

The Estorian Empire was a grouping of 21 different species: 5 'higher', 16 subjugated. They were, for the lack of a better term, the assholes of the galaxy. An intrinsic belief that the higher races were the true inheritors of the universe permeated their thinking, causing them to consider anyone not in that group to be nothing more than resources to be extracted and used for their power and pleasure.

Slavery and torture were common amongst the whole empire, any depravity acceptable if you were part of the right breed. The Terran alliance had a 'you don't touch our stuff, we won't touch yours' agreement with the Estorian's, but in reality both sides did plenty of touching due to their inherent ideological incompatibility.

Needless to say, the fact that someone she considered a friend has spent the last three weeks under their 'care' did not go down well with Amander.

"I calculated that due to the significant injury sustained by Amander Blake, the chances of success before this time were unacceptable. In addition we have not been doing ‘nothing’. I have been following the Estorian vessels and getting your equipment ready, as I calculated a 98.4% statistical chance that your first course of action would be to rescue Fluur. "

“You know what they’re like!” Amander countered, slowly getting back to her full height as her legs finally stabilised under her. ”Spendin three weeks under em… you should have-”

“Done what? Awoken you too early and let you recklessly charge into a 9.49% chance of success?” The AI interrupted harshly, in a digital tone of voice that suggested it wasn’t taking any disagreement on the matter “Fluur has become someone I care about as well, and I know you and your mostly likely outcomes would not have been conducive to ensuring his safety. We are on an intercept course with the Estonian ship in five hours, enough time for proper post-medical stasis care. So be quiet and focus on getting ready.”

—---------------

The five hours had been hell. Partly because waking up from medical stasis was never fun, partly because everything that wasn’t absolutely required for the functioning of the ship had been melted down to feed the on board replicator: meaning there was absolutely nothing on board to distract her. Mostly it was because every minute that passed was another minute that Fluur was in the hands of the sadistic bastards.

If he was even still alive.

Amander instinctively rechecked her equipment again for the hundredth time. Enough grenades and flashbangs to put on an amazing 4th of July. One standard combat knife, strapped to her left leg. One AI transfer core. One Remington pump action shotgun strapped to her back, useful if you didn’t want to punch a hole in the side of your spacecraft. Then one final item, the only item that hadn’t needed to be replicated: A Desert Eagle, scratched and battered from hundreds of years of use, once a gift and now her personal weapon of choice. With the various upgrades and refits done to the weapon it could probably kill a mountain if you needed it to.

All of this was strapped to the spacesuit she was now wearing, providing much needed protection from what Amander was about to do.

"I have set the final course interception parameters, not that the target vessel was doing anything other than seemingly joyriding randomly around. ETA 10 minutes."

There was a pause in Drake's voice as Amander made her way to the ship's airlock, finally ready to do something.

"It should be noted that I will be unable to aid you until I am integrated with the target vessel. This also means that if you miss the jump, the chance of rescue is 0.00521%. I have set a timer on your HUD for the calculated best time to jump.”

“You're gonna teach me how to suck eggs as well?”. The cordial voice of Amander had a slight tinge of being insulted. “Maybe I should explain to ya what two plus two equals?”

“It has been a while Amander Blake. Although I would be fine traversing the void of space, it would be not optimal to lose such a… slightly above average Terran”.

“ABOVE AVERAGE! SLIGHTLY ABOVE AVERAGE!” The indignant rage set a fire in Amander’s eye as she shouted at her unseen insulter. “I will shove my slightly above average foot up your electronic arse young man! I’ll-”

She was cut off as the AI transfer core in her hands started to beep and whirr as the AI transferred itself to the portable device, meaning DRAKE could no longer hear all the imaginative things Amander wanted to do to her sassy long time friend. Meaning all she could really do was inwardly seeth. Meaning for the first time in a while, she was completely alone on the ship.

—--------------------------

Everything went dark and silent as the power to the ship cut out, giving the Terran a sign that go time was quickly approaching. All systems were shut off, effectively making the ship near impossible to spot conventionally. Unless someone actively looked out the windows then the ship would seem like nothing more than a random piece of space junk. Of course, travelling like this was highly dangerous, since disabling your debris shields was a good way to have a random piece of rock punch a hole through your vessel. Out here in the nothingness of space that was unlikely however.

Unlikely didn’t mean never

Amander opened the airlock, the gears and thick doors silent in the vacuum. Her target was visible now and rapidly approaching, the timer on her HUD slowly ticking down. The Estorian vessel looked more like someone had ripped a castle out of the ground than something spacefaring. Spires of material made to look like marble and glass expanded from a central oblong base. The entire thing screamed of entitlement and pompous energy. Even the fake flags on the ends of various structures were set to mechanically “wave in the wind”.

Minutes turned to seconds as the vessel started to fill Amander’s view, dwarfing the small craft that she owned.

20 seconds

She moved to the back of the airlock, bouncing up and down and giving a small stretch as the timer on her HUD rapidly decreased.

10 seconds

One last quick check to make sure everything looked in order.

5 Seconds

Amander took a last deep breath, steadying her nerves.

3 seconds

Before starting to run, gaining speed in the small area of the airlock before

0 seconds

Taking a leap into the void of space.

—----------

Silence. Even the small amounts of energy her space suit was expending in order to slightly adjust her trajectory made no noise in the vacuum of space. The sight of the Estorian warship filling her view ahead of Amander, the nothingness of space behind was an impressive sight to behold, even after having done such manoeuvres so many times before. Well, at least for the first five minutes it was impressive.

Space is huge. Incomprehensibly huge. So when “Two spaceships are near each other'' that's still a distance measured in miles. Even moving quickly through the vacuum of space unhindered by air resistance or anything to stop her, Amander quickly found boredom to be the biggest issue. Nothing left to do but wait and let her thoughts wander as her target grew closer and closer.

Boredom leads to annoyance. Annoyance that yet again this was what she was doing. She was supposed to be done with this, done with fighting, done with doing crazy shit. After the Hatil war, if the absolute thrashing the adorable teddy bears got could be called a war, she wanted to do nothing more than just explore. No more insurrections, no more colony spats, no more fighting.

So the fact that a bunch of assholes had attacked her and captured her friend… well that really annoyed her.

Amander slammed into the side of the Estorian ship, the magnetic boots and gloves of her spacesuit keeping her stable against the metallic panelling as she looked for her goal. Slowly shimmying across step by step until she spotted an access panel. Quickly Amander slipped the knife in between the gap, popping off the cover and granting access to the wires underneath. It took less than five minutes of stripping and rewiring before the AI Transfer Core in her hands was securely connected, whirring away as DRAKE booted back online.

“Greetings to whoever discovered me. I am DRAKE and- oh it seems Amander Blake was successful in her traversal.”

“Hardy Har Har. You hush your mouth and don’t act surprised!”. Even through the helmet the eye roll from Amander was visible as she responded to the AI’s voice now speaking directly into her ears. “Where’s my entry?”

“Twenty metres to your left, vent system, opening now.”

Almost on cue a small opening made itself known to Amander’s left, the work of the AI infiltrating the ship’s systems letting the Terran slip inside unnoticed. After that it was a simple case of waiting for Drake to re-pressurize the venting system she found herself in, then travelling along the path and dropping into the ship proper.

Right on top of a surprised Estorian

The Raha were one of the ‘higher’ races: Bipedal insects standing at around 7ft tall, covered from head to toe in a milky grey exoskeleton. Four deep red eyes were inset into the face, countering a set of vicious mandibles erupting from the ‘jaw’, the overall look ending with a pair of spiky antennae atop the head.

This one was dressed in the multiple loops of fabric common for their species. The purple and gold colours of the Raha’s royal house adorning him, as well the gun gripped between three fingered hands showed the insect to be part of the Royal guard. His antennae were twitching in shock as one moment he’d been walking through the royal barge’s many corridors, and the next a Terran had literally dropped out of the sky in front of him.

There was a brief moment, a fraction of a second as both of them stared at each other before Amander reacted, closing the distance in an instant and not giving the surprised Raha a moment to raise his own weapon. The single strike of the knife was devastating, driving deep into one of its eye sockets, the insect giving a single twitch of its mandibles before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

“You coulda given me some warnin?” Amander hissed, wiping the grey liquid off her blade as she walked.

“As much as I might give such an impression, I am not omnipotent. I was busy overriding the ship’s systems so you will not appear for anyone monitoring security. Also, one combatant and one non combatant to your left.”

The door to the small monitoring station opened, the Raha who had been working at a terminal barely being given a chance to notice the door opening before Amander had wrapped her arms around its head; the Terran giving a vigorous twist that came with a sickening cracking and popping sound, leaving nothing but the other occupant of the room cowering on the floor.

It was mammalian, a mound of brown fur and two giant black eyes. The fact it was in the middle of cleaning the floor, the visible injuries adorning its body and the thick iron collar tightly affixed to its neck showed the creature wasn’t part of the ruling class. It did nothing but quiver in a pile as the Terran lifted a single finger to her helmeted ‘mouth’, backing out silently and leaving the slave alone.

“So I calculate that you are not taking prisoners then? One combatant to your right, facing away from you.”

“We both know what these bastards do, what the best case scenario for Fluur is.” Amander drove the blade into the base of the Raha’s neck, killing them before they knew what had even happened. “Let's skip the part where we pretend to be shocked”.

“Positive information gained from the ship's computers: Fluur is alive. Status is uncertain, but he’s on the vessel, follow the directions on your HUD. Negative information: This is the personal royal barge for prince Hakthas. Two coming up to your left at the intersection.”

The Terran waited, pressed against the corner until the footsteps grew louder; striking with a single spinning blow, plunging the blade deep into the chest of the closest Raha, forcing the other to the ground simultaneously with an accurate strike to the kneecap. Amander pulled the knife out with a twisting motion before focusing on the remaining kneeling guard, slamming its head repeatedly into the wall before jamming the knife deep into its neck.

“So? I don’t care if this ship is owned by god himself.”

“Because I know your standard operating parameters and you know the importance of that information. Non combatant to your right.” DRAKE’s voice was filled with warning, almost worried.

“They started it.” Amander glared through the helmet and pointed the bloody knife at the small pink lizard sporting yet another iron collar, who immediately shrunk back into the room it had come from, whimpering as the door shut behind it.

“It would be optimal not to be known for starting a war. Five hostiles ahead. One external wall opposite your entrance.”

Amander pulled the Desert Eagle out of its holster as the door in front of her opened smoothly, revealing the mess hall inside. A handful of Raha sat around various tables, eating and talking, no clue about the intrusion that was currently happening. They all instantly stopped what they were doing as an unknown Terran entered the room, weapon in hand and covered in Raha blood.

She didn’t give them any time to react, taking a vague aim with the hand cannon and firing a single shot: The bullet whipping past the inhabitants of the room, and continuing straight through the external wall the AI had informed her about.

Most species initially develop kinetic weapons, but tend to find the same issue once they go to space: Firing pieces of metal at each other in a pressurised container causes problems. Most species deal with these problems by moving to forms of weaponry that won’t blow holes in your spacecraft, energy based weaponry normally.

“Just wear a spacesuit dumbass” was the Terran solution.

The magnetic boots on Amander's spacesuit kept her on the ground, the reinforcements along the back locking in place as the wall imploded in an instant as the atmosphere of the room went from 1 to 0 over milliseconds.

The suit she was wearing kept her rooted in place, but the rest of the room's occupants weren’t as lucky, as everything and everyone that wasn’t nailed to the floor suddenly found themselves being flung outside the ship. 1.2 seconds later an emergency blast shield slid down in one smooth movement, allowing the room to be gradually re-pressurized; alarms and alerts starting to blare in the background.

“I believe the Estorians know that you are here now.”

—-----------------

The Raha royal guard were in disarray. Every sensor and piece of security apparatus on board was telling them that everything is fine, even though something was clearly attacking them. Sound of gunfire and shouting echoing through the halls as communication as well as the cohesion broke down.

Amander and DRAKE were a whirlwind of death, an unstoppable force meeting the very movable object which was the Raha royal guard. In between DRAKE quite literally being all seeing, and the raw ferocity of Amander they were practically strolling through the ship towards their goal.

Three shots, one for each skull of the Raha who had turned the corner into the awaiting gunfire of the Terran, who only spared a moment to double check before moving on.

“One Combatant, to your right.”

She didn’t even slow down, sending a shotgun blast down the length of the corridor, the cry of pain and buckshot meaning Amander didn’t even have to look to know that was a kill.

“7 Combatants, holed up in the room ahead.”

The Terran unclipped a pair of grenades, followed by a pair of flashbangs, tossing them through the door one pair after the other, the sound of explosion and goans of agony following, waiting before Amander breached the doorway herself. Three shotgun blasts rang out as she checked for anything still moving, before leaving and continuing again towards her goal.

“1 Combatant, 5 non combatants being used as a shield, in the room to your left. Calculated shot marked on HUD''

Amander could hear the muffled sounds of shouting and crying from the other side of the wall, not loud enough for her translator to work, but loud enough for the concept of someone shouting at a group of people to come through. She aimed the hand cannon, lining up the shot DRAKE had provided, before pulling the trigger, sending the bullet through the wall.

The sound of a body hitting the floor and more frantic noises emanating from behind the wall told the Terran everything she needed to know, continuing onwards towards her prize, pausing only to deal with a few more unlucky Raha in her path. Eventually Amander burst through the final door: Where DRAKE had found Fluur.

The room was dark, the only light emitting from the hallway she’d come in from, casting harsh shadows of the scene around her. Tens of cages lined the walls, from within them various figures moved and reacted to Amander’s entrance as she made her way deeper in the room.

Wails and shouts sounded out from the figures, various alien species: some she knew, some she didn’t. Her translator picked up various pleas for help, for mercy, each temporarily ignored as the Terran continued looking for her target, walking through the filth that covered every surface.

“Amander?”

The voice was frail and faint, but still recognizably the voice of the Zorthian called Fluur, causing the Terran to rush over to the location of the sound. It took her a moment to recognize him, cramped in a cage clearly too small, rage and hate filling her body as she looked upon her friend. She had expected to see this, she had almost expected far worse, but expecting and seeing it were two different things.

“I…. I thought you were dead. I didn’t think you could… I thought I’d be stuck here. I-”

Amander broke the lock of the cage with a simple twist of her knife, releasing Fluur and interrupting the Zorthian as she knelt down, holding him tight with a deep embrace.

“Hush now… I’m here now pumpkin. It’s gonna be fine.”

Being this close she could see the extent of the damage. Normally translucent blue skin had become hard and dried up due to a lack of access to water. Cuts and bruises adorned his body, purposeful removal of skin was evident in places and his left leg looked broken at an unnatural angle. Chunks had been cut out of the deep red fins adorning his head and limbs, with the fin from his right forearm having been completely torn off.

It took all of Amander’s self control to not rush straight out of that room and find whatever bastard had done this and do terrible things to them. Instead she chose to just hold the shivering amphibian, murmuring whispering statements of comfort and encouragement. Fluur needed this more than anything else she could do: For her she’d last seen her friend a mere 6 hours ago, for him it had been three weeks of hell.

“I apologise for the interruption, but three combatants are approaching.”

The sound of DRAKE caused Amander to get up, sparking a panic in her injured friend as he desperately tried to hold onto her.

“No! Don’t go! You can’t leave!”

The look of pure panic on Fluur’s face broke her heart, causing her to slowly kneel back down to the ground, twisting her helmet off with one smooth movement and handing it to the Zorthian.

“I ain’t leaving sweetheart, I just gotta get to finishing this off, then we’re leavin. Drake’s with me as well, so I’ll leave you both together, while I go finish blowin up a storm.”

—-----------------

For the first time in his very entitled life, prince Hakthas was worried. Being fourth in line to the throne of the royal house of the Raha meant all of the privilege and respect that came with such a position, with none of the actual responsibility. So Hakthas had done as his species does when given such power: Abused it for his own enjoyment. This however, he was not enjoying.

The sound of gunfire and fighting was getting closer, as he desperately tried to contact the royal treasurer. The ship's communications weren’t working, probably because of the Terran, meaning he was using his own personal backup connection.

“Prince Hakthas? What a pleasant and-”

“Shut it with the formalities.” Hakthas interrupted the snivelling attempt at pleasantry. ”Stay silent and get ready to-”

A priceless piece of artwork exploded as a bullet blew through the wall and embedded itself 2ft to the left of the Raha, causing him to flinch in his own personal chambers. It was a chamber of decadence and comfort, so the feeling of being afraid and alone here was not one he enjoyed. He was alone obviously, his plan would only work if he was alone. So he’d sent the subjugates away and any of his personal guards would be outside trying, and presumably failing, to stop the Terran.

The Terran who had just burst through the door, covered in blood and a look of death in her eyes.

“Welcome! I, Prince Hakthas fourth in line to the Raha royal house, greet you, in an unarmed state.”

“Unarmed?”. Terran raised her gun, pointing it directly at the face of Hakthas, the prince requiring every fibre of his being to not flinch at such a move. “Well this makes the next part easier, so thanks!”

“Ah, let's not be too hasty and uncivilised. Lest our two empire’s relations become… strained.”

“Ain’t nobody gonna know.” Amander was staring the prince down, almost smirking at the thought of hurting the one who had hurt Fluur, speaking through gritted teeth. “I’m gonna get my pound of flesh, nice and slow.”

“That unfortunately isn’t the case.” Hakthas turned the Galnet communicator he was using to show the enraged Terran, to show the currently ongoing call. “I was just discussing an equitable payment for our accidental misstep, not that an honourable Terran such as yourself would think of breaching our governments agreements.”

“BREACHING OUR AGREEMENTS?!” Hakthas was worried he’d said the wrong thing as a Terran screamed at him, knowing exactly how thin of a tightrope he was balancing this conversation on. “Y’all were the ones who attacked my ship, nearly killed me, then captured and tortured my friend! I reckon that breaches any agreement!”

“Yes it was very unfortunate, I do apologise for the misunderstanding.” Hakthas placed his hand over his antenna, feigning sincere apology. “Your ship wasn’t broadcasting standard Terran Alliance headers, and only your friend was on board when we checked. Terrans collect so many species it’s hard to keep track, and the Zorthians are very rarely seen outside of their planet, so we had no way to know you were part of the Terran Alliance.”

The prince continued speaking as he again referred back to the communicator he held in his hand, every moment tracked by the rage filled Terran’s weapon.

“I of course take full responsibility for such a mistake, and propose a payment of 5 million Terran Dollars, for the damage to your ship and yourselves. As well as absolving you for the murder of 43 members of my personal guard. That sounds far more preferable to a war?”

“What if I don’t want your money?”

Contrary to the words being spoken, Hakthas could see his plan was working, the true repercussions of killing a member of the Raha royal family starting to sink in; the anger of the Terran starting to dissipate with the sobering reality of the galaxy and the way it worked. For all their power Terrans seemingly avoided war where they could, with the same gusto of a weakling subjugated race.

“What would your friend want? After that dreadful colony business the Zorthians are a one planet species. Very susceptible in a time of war. Do you want to risk that?”

There was a pause, the anger on Amander’s face declaring that she wanted to do nothing more than pull the trigger and blow the stupid little royal bastard's face away. Eventually she lowered the gun, glaring at the prince.

“You do that, and I also hand ya over to the Terran government.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but that request is beneficial to everyone.” Hakthas gave a small bow, smug confidence filling him again. Terrans were so easy once you realised their pack bonding was both their greatest strength, and greatest weakness. You could threaten them all day and they’d laugh in your face. But you threaten their allies, and suddenly they become far more rational.

It was this smug overconfidence that caused the prince to make the biggest mistake of his life. That unearned feeling of superiority was about to blow up across the galaxy.

“Please be a good dear and transfer the given funds to our new Terran friend. It was worth every credit, your friend provided the most fantastic fun and entertainment over the last three weeks, worth every-”

BANG.

—---------

All bullets make a sound. Most of them are silent, bouncing off dirt or stone, harmlessly plinking a paper target or beer can. They silently disperse their payload never to be heard of again. A few give a bang, the sound ripping apart lives and communities, the voids of what was and what could be deafening to those close enough to hear, but still mostly silent.

But sometimes, sometimes a bullet will roar, scream so loud that all of history hears it. In 1865, April the 14th at 10:15pm, a .45 calibre bullet was fired from a Derringer by a John Wilkes Booth. The sound it made roared and bounced around America, echoes still reverbing even hundreds of years later.

In 1914, June the 28th, a 9mm bullet was fired from a FN Model 1910, straight into the neck of a Franz Ferdinand. It was a sound heard across the world, bouncing around with death and hate, millions of other explosions and noises originating from that single gunshot.

And on 71 NST (New Post-stasis Time), on the 5th of July, a single .50 calibre bullet was fired from a heavily modified desert eagle, straight into the chest of a prince Hakthas.

It was a sound heard across the galaxy.

—--------------

Jan Eagles wasn’t an unhappy man per say. The position he found himself in, as head of Terran-Xeno relations, was the end result of hundreds of years of hard work; of peace treaties, negotiations, rationally speaking in rooms of irrational humans. Tired was the best way to describe him. Every time a Terran broke an alien law, or some alien broke a Terran law, he and his team had to get involved. Every time someone died somewhere they shouldn’t have, he and his team had to get involved. This was without counting the normal diplomatic efforts of alliances and trade agreements.

It didn’t help that Terrans seemingly lost all rationality once they hit space. In the last 24 hours he had to oversee 12 death arrangements, a group of Terrans trying to smuggle Capsin into the Pt’chal home world, and a Scrivit tourist being kidnapped because, quote: “But holy shit it’s so cute, it’s like an extra fluffy hamster I love it!”.

Of course, this was without the stupidity of the galaxy at large. It was generally considered bad form to insult other cultures, but every other species gave Terrans a run for their money in terms of stupidity. Whether it was a human smuggling ring by the Lithoirians, The Ritilian reality TV crew behind 'Crazy Terrans' secretly filming Terrans without their permission, or the Turrilians arresting two Terrans for “Smuggling Adrenaline”.

That last one had been fun, with constant reminders that having every Terran who enters your space get surgery to remove their adrenal glands, is not a ‘Reasonable compromise’.

So when Jan saw the gold inlaid red envelope on his desk, he outwardly gave a groan. Only the Estorians were enough of an asshole to deliver messages to other ambassadors physically. He half wondered what it was, another declaration of how great they are? Complaints that another of their next targets had joined the Terran alliance? Shudder Another invitation to join the Estorian Empire?

It was only after reading the message, what it meant and what it could mean, that he frantically started calling people. To avoid a war.