Music is playing, but you can barely hear it over the sounds of people enjoying the good times, great food and fun atmosphere at this branch of Henderson's Ribs. Robotic waiters skate from table to table, laying out food with ruthless efficiency. The Nurr-Sluggis behind the counter drip a smile at each customer, taking orders and passing them back to the kitchen staff. It's a perfect, tasty machine stationed in geosynchronous orbit above the capital city of the Nurr-Sluggi people. In one booth, a screeching family of strange, feathered creatures enjoys a stop-off on their space-camping trip. In another, two amorphous aliens wrestle over their last remaining rib. In another, a vending machine discusses philosophy with a bored looking pan-humanoid. One particularly boisterous group pores over the latest issue of Space Friends Monthly, loudly proclaiming how they are going to get their names in the next issue. The galaxy will know the names of Guerlaghiix And The Flaughjinks, just as soon as they can agree on how to spell "Flaughjinks" and what a Flaughjink even is.

The crew of the Quest For Flavour were seated at a booth near the window, giving them an excellent view of space, the planet below and, crucially, the spot where the ship is parked. Like many restaurants that see a variety of customers barge, slither, squeeze and melt in slow motion through their doors, the booth is designed with spaciousness in mind. It could seat a party of ten standard pan-humans, a whole tribe of Tuberlings, or two Meganoxx that were very comfortable with one another's presence. A robotic waiter ripped straight out of a 1950s b-movie stands patiently, waiting to take the orders of the crew.

"We're gonna crush negotiating peace between the warring tribes of Nellim Seven, boys," loudly boasts Guerlagiix, or one of the Flaughjinks, "we'll blow that stalemate outta the water. Gonna punch that decade long conflict in the face so hard! Yeah, boys! Yeah!"

The waiter politely plays a recording of a throat being cleared.

"Welcome to Henderson's Ribs. I am Walter. What will it be?"

The menus, resplendent in brown and red and barbecue sauce stains, beckon.

Fiddlestick's mind was a million miles away. Lost in thought as he stared out of the window, staring at the bleak and mediocre planet of Nurr-Slugg. He knewthat he was in a Henderson Ribs joint, his happy place, but there was a problem. Fiddlesticks wasn't very happy at all.

The rather unusual members of the crew made Fiddkesticks nervous. A giant spider, a swarm of bees, some short fat guy with a beard. Fiddlesticks wasn't sure how he was supposed to relate to those people. If his social anxiety wasn't stirring something fierce before, it certainly did then. It seemed that Henderson Ribs accepted anyone into their special programs for special people. That girl with the glasses was pretty cute though. Fiddlesticks hoped that the rather pretty girl noticed how big his arms or "guns" were.

"Welcome to Henderson's Ribs. I am Walter. What will it be?"

The standard issue robot waiter interrupted Fiddlestick's musings. This one was a bit shabby. He could notice signs of grease and dirt stains. It mustn't be cleaned very often. Disgraceful, they were Henderson Ribs for crying out loud!

"I would like your signature full rack of honey braised ribs with a side order of sweet potato fries." Fiddlesticks replied.

His mouth was literally watering. He hoped the cute glasses girl didn't notice.

Joining a crew! Going on adventures! Being in confined spaces! Spaaaaaace! These things were fun. Vanessa enjoyed things that were fun. Though certainly her fun could be considered different from other versions of fun. Eating here was pretty decent, though the most fun was had when the fights broke out. Vanessa was usually found not far away with a bucket of popcorn coated eagerly with her unique sauce. Vanessa had been such a regular at Hendersons’s Ribs that she had her own sauce to suit her particular tastes. The interesting thing about Vanessa was that she could frequently be found eating food, or drinking tea. This was all well and good for humans, but Vanessa wasn’t quite a human. Vanessa, being a vampire, required blood for substance. Drinking blood was like taking nutrient supplements. It provided her with quite literally everything she needed in a day in a small, convenient package.

Unfortunately for everyone, Vanessa wasn’t at the table. Her rifle was missing too, and a the only evidence that Vanessa had been there in the first place being a small napkin with a note scribbled upon it in what was clearly not an intentional ink that stated the prompt return of the writer. Vanessa had arrived earlier, and had actually eaten before everyone, since the consumption of something steeped with her unique sauce was frequently considered off putting to those not accustomed to the wet and coppery smell of blood, much less the consumption of it.

Vanessa gently hummed to herself as she held her hands beneath the cool, fast flowing water. Checking over them with a keen eye Vanessa held them under a bit longer before shutting the water off and pulling paper towels, one of the many inventions to stand the test of time, to dry her hands. Looking into the mirror Vanessa adjusted her glasses so that they framed her eyes neatly and rubbed her hair down into place, holding her hands aloft only for it to spring back out sporadically after a few moments. Adjusting her tie, Vanessa pulled her gloves back on and gave them a few tugs to ensure that they were taut across her hands.

Picking up her rifle from the corner, Vanessa looked one last time to the mirror and gave herself a brief smile, her fangs aligned perfectly with the rest of her teeth. Nodding at her appearance Vanessa switched off the light and stepped out of the ladies room. With a surprisingly abundant amount of space open to her, Vanessa gave her rifle a rapid twirl as she walked back towards the booth. It spun as if hovering above her left hand, before a quick swing of the arm saw it spinning just as fast above her right. In a display of her flexibility Vanessa, having planted her left foot upon the floor, raised her right foot behind her and leaned forward, using the momentum of her lean to completely raise her right foot over her head, before completing her acrobatic display by planting her right foot upon the ground in the exact spot where it would have been had Vanessa remained walking normally.

To top off this display, Vanessa kept her rifle spinning all the while. Deciding to be truly daring, Vanessa vanished with a puff of smoke when her foot hit the ground with her next step. A swift and slight breeze was felt before Vanessa reappeared where she had previously been sitting within the booth. This had been alone, right where the napkin-note Vanessa had left had indicated she had been sitting.

Vanessa’s rifle sat comfortably within the crook of her arm. It lay there gently, like a date assured they weren’t on the menu at a fine dinner. Vanessa gave a quick once-over to anyone currently present at the table, and gave a gentle close-lipped smile to the lot of them. Vanessa rested with her fingers woven together and legs crossed, and a polite greeting spilled from her mouth shortly after her appearance. “Guten Tag! How are vee today companions?”

Vanessa did indeed notice that Fiddlesticks was drooling a bit at the thought of his food, but she was simply too polite to mention it at this time. Vanessa's suit held her body well, and gave her an almost male appearance, though the sound of her voice and the length of her hair gave away her status as a female pretty easily, even though her slender appearance didn't lend itself to overt femininity. Vanessa didn't mind the look, though. It allowed her to be extensively flexible, which was something that Vanessa frequently took advantage of, like her acrobatics earlier.

All in all, Vanessa was quite the interesting lady, and she was likely going to go upon an interesting trip. with an interesting crew and have an interesting time along the way. It was always pleasant when things were interesting, as mundane and routine quickly drew out the devious roots of boredom and stagnation.

Mmm... Adventures in space! It sounded like a fun time, especially with this crew. Toony was relatively new, having only met most of them the day before. Something about a giant spider and a swarm of bees was interesting when compared to the relatively humanoids next to them. Toony was the only robot of the crew, but at least she had learned to cooperate with the organics relatively well as to not be treated like some other robots shes seen. An example came to the table the crew was sitting at was the water bot. She figured that the poor thing probably didn't do much else other than wait tables. But if he wanted to do anything else, it was his choice, not hers. Besides, it was time for food!

"Oh, you can get me one of everything!" Toony replied at the robot waiter, the waiter a bit puzzled as to why a robot would need to eat organic food but made note of her order all the same. Being made of nanobots, she could do whatever she wanted with the food she ate, although it was mostly made into either energy, replacing spent nanobots, or probably ship parts. She figured that she'd probably be the one to repair the ship, thats usually what people had her do in the past anyway, even if she really didn't want to besides making the parts.

She gave the indication of a wide smile to the rest of the group at her order, noting that fiddlesticks was drooling over the idea of his order. She wasn't the only one to notice this, as Vanessa who came out of nowhere looked at him too.
"Hello Vanessa, I'm good. Dunno about everyone else."
Toony herself wasn't too familiar with the crew who had been around each other a bit more. It was clear in the fact that the other organics didn't run for the hills when they saw the giant spider lady. From what she had seen of most organics, they tended to be terrified of spiders.

At the table with the others were 25 small humanoids with bee wings and antennae. 2 where wearing miniature captains hats who were attempting to look as dignified as possible, 3 where dressed in with a shirt and tie and where there to do accounting for when they paid as well as to remember the new recruit’s CVs. The remaining 20 were there to make up the numbers so that they actually had a presence of a swarm rather than a few small individuals that could be ignored and where dressed in the standard red jacket of The Bees. The numbers were also important so that they could activate automatic doors or make rope teams to pull open manual ones and other size reliant tasks. The Bees were either sitting on the chair, on the table or hovering between those two groups, all but the captains buzzing excitedly at being brought along. The Will was effectively popping in and out of the group, the present bee’s antennae occasionally lighting up as it made sure they and the solos of the crew were OK before going back to managing the bulk takeout order operation currently being undertaken by the rest of the swarm. There would have been a mass riot if only the 25 at the table where to get those succulent ribs.

As it was the majority of the bees were currently engaged in a mass transport operation from the joints drive through to the ship, which was parked some way off as Elarin(very sensibly) wouldn’t let The Bees drive, using a system of ropes, pallets and those trolley things you get at airports. Imaging the massive limestone blocks being dragged to build the pyramids except instead of slaves it’s tiny bee people, instead of limestone its delicious ribs, instead of dragging it along the ground they had to contend with the uncontrollable wonky wheels on the trolleys, instead of slave drivers with whips there were angry drivers who couldn't use the drive through because of the operation shouting at them and finally that they were building a giant banquet instead of a tomb. All of this was watched in horrified fascination by the acne ridden teenagers manning the drive through. Currently things were going smoothly and casualty rates were at an acceptable level, they all knew the party they were going to throw was going to be worth it.

The Mind, having gotten the external operation into a relatively self sustaining state after much prodding and macro-management of The Bees, finally settled into the 25 just in time to watch Vanessa’s theatrics. The Bees gave her a round of applause while The Mind added ‘Show off’ to their data on her after which The bees got down to arguing about what to order.

"Everything is going well so far miss Kiyvana.”

The Bees then inform the waiter that they want Ribs coated with honey, fries with honey on the side, tomatoes, an entire lettuce, lemon sorbet, Jub Jub juice, coconuts, grubs of a scarab beetle, more honey and...

All these and more are shouted over each other in an incomprehensible mess before the mind drowns them out.

"Ignore everything the Bees just said, they will have 3 child portions of ribs, a large basket of fries, a mixed salad, a plate of Venusian sour spheres and four bowls of honey.”

The Mind had spoken and given a relatively decent order, so The Bees stopped their uproar and got back to what they were doing which was a lot of low level chatter, looking over the Space Friends Monthly(mainly a the pictures) or in the case of the two captain's hat wearing Bees a rather amateurish game of chess.

The space camp councillors told him he was perfect for the role. That Fiddlesticks would be the most valuable and respected member of the crew. They told him that he was meant for great things. That he was smart and ever so handsome. Well, they didn't say that second part but Fiddlesticks suspected that they were thinking it. If only they could see him then. Drooling uncontrollably like a space poodle.

Fiddlesticks salivated so much that a stream of drool flowed it's way down his chin and onto the diner table. Only after hearing the quiet yet audible splash of saliva onto the table top did Fiddlesticks realise the error of his ways. Startled by this realisation he sat bolt upright in his seat and covered his mouth with both his hands. His huge grapefruit sized eyes have never been any bigger than they were at that moment. They darted left and right rapidly, at all the other members of the crew. He hoped against hope that the cute girl with the glasses didn't notice.

Fiddlesticks made an audible gulp then dropped his hands to his sides. He let out a sigh of resignation. He thought that those guys would consider him a dork as well. But he had duty, a most honourable and sacred one! To help spread the word of Hendersons Ribs! For deliciousness! For friendship! For adventure!

"Huzzah!" yelled Fiddlesticks.

He found himself standing on his seat with his right fist pointed straight up into the air. He wore a massive smile that stretched from ear to ear. How the heck did that happen!? He didn't even remember standing up. Fiddlesticks quickly decided to play it cool and roll with it. He held his pose and his smile. He hoped that at least one other member would join in on his style of expressing jubilation.

After driving for the entire eight-hour flight to the Hederson's Ribs above Nurr-Slugg, Elarin was exhausted. Resting his head against the backrest of the booth, his claw-tipped fingers rapped against the laminated cover of the menu, as his bloodshot, glazed over eyes glanced slowly from item to item, his tongue occasionally darting out of his mouth to taste the air whenever different dishes were walked past their table by the server-robots. Eventually, a server approached the table the group was seated at, and Elarin sat up a bit as the bot spoke. "Welcome to Henderson's Ribs. I am Walter. What will it be?"

Elarin emitted whatever the reptilian equivalent of a yawn was, before sluggishly tracing a claw along the menu, answering Walter the Waiter with a worn-out voice.

"I'd like a...medium serving of ribs, a small bowl of corn, a small basket of...regular fries, and a coffee, doesn't matter what planet." With that, Elarin handed his menu over, and rested his head back against the backrest again, his head spines poking small holes in the leather upholstery. Closing his eyes, Elarin mumbled out something that sounded like "Wake me if you need me.", or maybe it was "Take these if you see peas."

Unless he was woken up by someone priorly, Elarin would carefully sit back up once the food arrived, the hiss of air being let out of the leather backing as his spines were drawn from the puncture holes they had made.

The one known as 'The Mind" was interesting. It was like looking at an organic colony of nanobots! Though Toony really couldn't fully understand the whole hive mind thing. Sure she was made out of nanobots and commanded a ton of them, but they basically only formed one body without their own minds or anything unlike "The Mind" and his bees. Toony really wasn't sure what to make of the organic though, only time would tell!

Fiddlesticks though... Toony couldn't help but give a mechanical laugh at his eagerness. Sure what he was doing was... really silly. But at least he was trying to save face so Toony could appreciate commitment. Heck, she'd join him if there was a reason to! But she didn't know everyone super well yet so she decided to wait and see how the rest of her new crewmates would react. As much as she disliked it, first impressions were sorta kinda important to organics.

"So... Now that almost everyone I met is here. Anyone wanna talk about themselves while we wait for our food?" Toony suggested, looking at the various people she'd be calling her crew for the foreseeable future. "I'm a cute robot, if that wasn't obvious." She said with a smile look in her eyes. She didn't have a mouth, so the gesture wasn't as obvious as it should be, but then Toony found anything less than the eyes mundane and useless.

Vonny woke up from his long nap, where the ship's weapon inventory room was as the ship began to slow down. He yawned before rubbing his eye’s and looking around. He casually got out of the inventory room and went right towards the bathroom. After splashing his face with water and doing his thing (Washed his hands of course) he proceeded to to the kitchen. He looked inside of the fridge to do a quick supply count and nodded. “Bloody hell, all that’s in here is vegtables, a few chicken wings and last night's chocolate cake.” he mumbled before grabbing one of the chicken wings. He began to eat it before proceeding to the Henderson Rib entrance where the rest of the crew was. Vonny walked to the group of table before looking at the waiter:

“Get me three ribs, one honey, one of the buffalo sauce and the other BBQ sauce, and two pitchers of your domestic brew, no foam please!” Vonny said

Vonny sat at the table, near to the crew before nodding.

“How’s everyone doing today?”

Sitting in the back of the booth, her legs pulled close together in a valiant effort to create as much available space for her dear children companions as possible, was Tik-Tik. The giant spider's arachnid face was unreadable to any of her more humanoid companions, and she wagered that even the hive of bees didn't have the necessary experience to read her alien expressions. Not to worry, though -- she was perfectly content.

"Eat up, eat up!" she said, or hissed, or... how does one describe the sound? It sounded like a little breathless and a little layered, like someone slowly and gently dragging the bow of a violin across a stand of silk. "Nobody is allowed to leave the table before you finish your meals." One of her many eyes glanced at the bees with the captain hats and she quickly added: "Except for the Captain, of course. They can do as they please." It was important not to forget her place.

The nanobot robot, named Toony, asked the crew to say something about themselves. "Nice to meet you, my dear. My name is --" the sounds that followed were completely incomprehensible, more reminiscent of the death rattles of a dying Protoceratops than anything else -- "But you can call me Tik-Tik. All my friends do." The spider attempted a polite curtsy, dipping her head and thorax, with the limited space she had.

"And I am doing great, Vonny! Did you get enough sleep?" Tik-Tik asked, turning to the Space Dwarven quartermaster, another unreadable expression on her many-eyed face; experts in arachnid communication would describe it as 'stern, but kind'.

Fiddlesticks hung his head in defeat. Nobody joined him in his rousing cheer. The crew just sat there, staring at him dumbfounded. Usually, when Fiddlesticks made a spectacle of himself, people called him names. Mean names such as dork, loser, squiggleblarq etc. This reaction caught him off guard. More so than the fact that he just made the crews robot maid laugh. Fiddlesticks had neither seen nor heard of a robot that had a sense of humour before. Rather than feeling embarrassed, Fiddlesticks felt relieved. He was beginning to like this crew already. Fiddlesticks sat himself back down on his chair.

"So... Now that almost everyone I met is here. Anyone wanna talk about themselves while we wait for our food?" our robot maid asked of everyone.

"I'm a cute robot, if that wasn't obvious." stated the robotic maid. Fiddlesticks agreed wholeheartedly. It did resemble a cute girl. Having a robotic maid around would be very useful. It could clean his smelly socks and underwear. Those things got really smelly and very nasty. Fiddlesticks decided to give it his dirty laundry once everyone was aboard the ship.

"Hi, err I am Fiddlesticks. I'm the ships engineer." Fiddlesticks replied.

Walter stood by the booth with all the patience of a well-trained waiter or, at least, a robot designed to stand still while people argued about orders. If Walter could feel pleasantly surprised by the lack of arguments about who would have what, Walter would surely do so. Walter would also feel concerned about his lack of ability to feel pleasantly surprised, but fortunately the Manager hadn't forked out the extra credits required for an artificial intelligence capable of such introspection.

"So that's a full rack of ribs, honey braised, with sweet 'tater fries on the side, a triple kids size ribs, a large fries on the side, a mixed salad, the Venusian Sour Spheres Special, four bowls of, ah, honey, a medium ribs, small side of corn, regular fries, a mug of Neat Wake-Up Juice, one honey ribs, one buffalo sauce ribs, one barbecue sauce, two pitchers of Headless Nugg-Slurry..."

Flashing lights underneath a clear plastic panel began to blink and, from somewhere deep within the chassis of Walter, the quiet, tell-tale sound of two out-of-date computers making a data-handshake beeped out. If the blinking lights and beeping noises were any indication, there was a fairly intense communication going on between Walter and another robot.

"...thank you for your custom, your food will be ready in-" beep, beep, beep "-six minutes and four seconds. Please enjoy a complimentary copy of our Space Friends Newsletter and our endless ice-cream dispenser. Today's special flavour is," beep, beep, beep, "meat. Your cred-card has been charged. If you would like to amend your order, please do not hesitate to flag down myself or one of my fellow waiters."

A freshly printed Space Friends Newsletter began to print out from a device lodged into the chest of Walter. Some of the older Walter-Waiter robots had a rear-mounted printer, which made children giggle, but didn't test particularly well with adults in the focus groups. With a flourish of an arm, Walter lays the still warm newsletter down on the table between the group. It's a single page, printed out in a font that looks suspiciously like Comic Sans. With nothing left to do, Walter skates over to the next booth, and begins to take yet more orders.

Vanessa bore a gentle, closed lip smile at the antics of her companions. She didn't want to scare them with her fangs, since most people weren't too accustomed to seeing a vampire out and about. That was also part of the reason why she ate her food earlier, before anyone else had arrived. Vanessa had keenly seen Fiddlesticks stand and raise his fist upon the air, though didn't join him in such an antic because he height would've caused her to hit the ceiling rather than be celebratory like Fiddlesticks. Vanessa could have changed her appearance to be short enough, but changing her looks was a rather uncomfortable, or overly comfortable depending upon what all she had to change, experience that took a lot of effort to undertake. Fiddlesticks movements were easy to see since vampires, no matter how polite or well mannered they might have appeared, were still predators by nature. Movement was easy for Vanessa to follow, even when she was well fed. The truth was that Vanessa was merely too polite to say anything that might disrupt Fiddlesticks mood and cause him to be unhappy. They were fresh friends, this group, and Vanessa didn't plan on trying to ruin that.

A polite nod was given to the bees and Toony, since they had been the only ones to acknowledge her greeting. The others had gone about their own routines and ignored her greeting. Vanessa wasn't offended, perhaps it had been hard to hear her statement since Vanessa spoke politely and at a normal volume in a restaurant that had both music and a hum of chatter filling it with noise. Vanessa could easily pick the two apart and, if she wanted, could tune in to any conversation currently happening within the eatery. She didn't, though, as it would be both rude and rob her attention from her new companions at the table. Since the call went out to say something about yourself, which was interesting since Vanessa had already made a similar greeting, Vanessa took the time to think about what exactly she should say since she didn't feel like scaring her new crew members.

After a short moment of thought, Vanessa began to speak once again. She retained the polite tone and volume, and made sure to speak in such a way that her fangs weren't flashing with every word. "Guten Tag, comrades. My name is Vanessa Kiyvana, though some of you already know that one. I run on a special diet, which is why I will be eating apart from most of you for the majority of our time together. As a word of caution, don't open the red fridge with a black bat upon the front. It will get nasty. I hail from the planet of Dämmerlicht, which is quite a lovely world if I do say so myself. I am sure that we will all get along wonderfully together."

Vanessa raised her left eyebrow slightly as the waiter printed what appeared to be a help wanted list and set it upon the table. Giving it a swift read Vanessa pondered over the jobs. The first one looked to be something out of their league, since such heavy combat was reserved for capital and military grade ships which, as Vanessa could clearly see from where she was sitting, their Quest for Flavor was not. The other one of note was the "Need help?" mission, which looked rather the opposite of their intended journey together. That left the rest of the missions open for debate. Vanessa held her tongue on the manner since she wanted her companions to speak up about what they would like to do. Though she would make a polite protest at the suggestion of the first or third mission, since their ship wasn't capable enough for the first and their group needed no present assistance like the third mission provided.

All in all, Vanessa could merely wait now. She rubbed her thumb gently across the barrel of her rifle, and made sure that the butt of the gun was resting gently upon her foot. It was a high maintenance rifle, to be sure, but Vanessa enjoyed the work since she often found herself with little to do and taking care of the weapon often gave her something to keep her hands busy. For positioning's sake, Vanessa sat to the right of the large spider and to the left of the pilot, who seemed to be attempting to sleep off the effects of long distance space travel.

With little left to do, say, or think, Vanessa merely waited for her companions to say something.

The Bees second Vanessa’s fridge comment as some had already had a look inside and had ended up moved it to the medbay assuming it was simply in the wrong place. They apologies for the inconvenience on that bit

"Now that we are all here, I am, as you're probably aware unless I have only communicated with you viea a messaging system for the recruitment process, your Captain: Draksal the Devourer!”

The bees collectively roll their eyes at this last part.
The Bees explain that the voice is The Mind, they are The Bees and that they are very excited to go on adventures with you all

The rest of the group apart from... Tik-Tik, (the mind could probably pronounce her name, having no vocal cords to get in a twist as a result of being a disembodied voice, but her nickname was certainly faster to say/think) had ordered the waiter dispensed a fresh copy of the Space Friends Newsletter.

"Oh good, a copy that hasn’t been used by a napkin by someone. Get rid of that one someone left here and wake up Elarin, there is business to be discussed before food arrives ”

The old issue was quickly scrunched up and tossed at Elarin to try and get him to join in the discussion that was to follow as the two captain bees packed away the chess set and hovered above the newsletter to view the possible tasks.

The words shrink ray immediately attracted their attention, such a device would be very useful to… acquire and the Bees did have a small number of individuals who had rigorously read detective novels that had seen very little use. The Bees were particularly fond of parties much to the chagrin of The Mind, though free cloths sounded nice so that one was also on the swarm’s table.

"As captain I would be interested in hearing your opinions before we decide. It will be useful to get some knowledge as to how you think your skills would apply to that task, vague as their descriptions are”

"Guten Tag, comrades. My name is Vanessa Kiyvana, though some of you already know that one. I run on a special diet, which..." announced the pretty girl. Fiddlesticks couldn't pay further attention to Vanessa's announcement for he was lost in her eyes. Her voice was as clear and as melodious as crystal rains of Symana. Her eyes sparkled like the stars themeselves. Suffice it to say, Fiddlesticks was a sucker for a pretty face.

"Alright Fiddlesticks old boy. It's game time. Be smooth." Fiddlesticks told himself under his breath. He was painfully shy around pretty girls. The prettier the girl, the more intense his shyness. Vanessa's beauty certainly wasn't helping him with that.

"V-v-Vanessa, if you're done with the newsletter could I have a look?" asked Fiddlesticks. "Cool gun by the way" he commented. His voice broke on the word cool. Fiddlesticks heart was racing. He blushed noticeably.

Vanessa gave a brief wave of her hand towards the bees and said. "It's no trouble. I moved it back earlier today."

It had been moderately confusing as to why her fridge had been moved, but Vanessa was used to such a thing and had promptly checked the medbay for it's location. It was a good thing she did since the blood wasn't transfusion quality. Attempting to use it in such a way would quite likely kill the recipient, since most of it wasn't filtered and purified to the quality of transfusion blood. Vanessa could, in theory, drink the blood and barf it back up, since her body was able to naturally filter and purify blood. Though Vanessa obviously knew that such blood, despite being clean, wouldn't be very comfortable to use.

Since Draksai had asked for opinions, Vanessa spoke up about her logical findings. "Personally, I would avoid the first and third missions upon the list. The first one likely involves combat between military grade and capital ships which our ship is, quite obviously, not cut out to handle. The third mission is what appears to be someone abusing the system to advertise themselves as help-givers rather than an actual mission. The rest I have no comment on."

Vanessa knew that trying the first mission with their ship in it's current state would be quite the hassle, as Vanessa didn't know how well the armor or shielding would hold up under military grade weapons fire. For that matter, was the ship even armed? Truly, the first mission seemed like a logical impossibility, and Vanessa hoped that the more action oriented members of the crew didn't attempt to sway everyone into undertaking such a mission. It would be rather foolish and likely result in most of their deaths when the ship went up in a fireball after a brief volley of weapons fire.

The other missions seemed much more practical in comparison, since they didn't involve capital ships or military grade equipment. There was the possibility of them looting a disabled ship should they take the first mission, but the cost of adequately repairing something of that quality and size with matching quality components was going to likely break the bank of everyone sitting at the table.

Thus, Vanessa had made her statement against the first mission. The third mission seemed to be rather out of place since the group sitting here was together to give aid, not receive it. They were a crew, not a support group. That left several other missions of various types upon the paper before them, and Vanessa didn't really have too much of a preference to be made about any of them. Vanessa could assist with all of them in some way, and thus was rather neutral in opinion about them.

Vanessa's ear twitched slightly as she heard the music stop and change to another track. Much the same to the previous one in terms of instrument composition, but the note composition was different and the song thus sounded different from the previous one. It too soon faded into the background hum of noise since Vanessa turned her attention away from it, but it was nice to know that the radio system still worked properly and wouldn't be playing the same repeating tune time and time again for the duration of their stay at the eatery.

Weaving her hands together once again, Vanessa took a moment to shift her legs and switch the way she crossed them. Vanessa shifted her rifle as well, moving it to the other arm and resting the butt of the gun upon her other foot, which now sat flatly upon the ground. The rifle was nestled within the crook of her arm just as before, sitting comfortably like a date who had been informed that they were not upon the menu back upon Vanessa's homeworld.

It was a rare treat, to be invited to the feasts there. Vanessa had personally never brought anyone with her, though she had seen plenty of others and thus knew what the feeling was like. The relieved look upon the faces of the men and women as they walked in with their partners. Lovely times, though Vanessa didn't feel homesick upon thinking about them. That was probably a good thing, since returning home after just making friends was probably not the best thing.

With little more to say or think, Vanessa waited for others to voice themselves. Though it was now that she heard Fiddlesticks speak up in her direction. He had complemented her rifle and was asking to see the newsletter. Though this was a rather interesting request since Vanessa hadn't touched the newsletter. Her eyesight was more than powerful enough to read it where it lay upon the table, and as such Fiddlesticks was free to take it at his own pace since Vanessa hadn't moved it. The commander bees were currently reading it, however, and it would likely be best to ask them.

Vannessa gave him another closed lipped smile and said. "Thank you. The design is an old one, though I had it rebuilt using modern materials. I have more weapons at home, though this one is my personal favorite, so I brought it with me." Uncurling her hands from one another, Vanessa gave her free wrist a flick and set a .303 England round upon the table before saying. "It fires these. Not as fancy as some of the other weapons of today, but quite reliable in function and performance. There have been few times where I've needed anything else to ensure my viability in combat."

Picking up the round again, Vanessa gave her wrist another flick to return the round to where it had previously been. Though this location was a mystery to everyone else at the table, Vanessa kept the rounds hidden within her suit, since carrying around exposed ammunition was rather unsightly. Vanessa knew that Fiddlesticks had taken a liking to her, though she also knew that she was rather incompatible with him as a mate due to her status as a vampire, and thus had politely chosen not to reciprocate the feelings that he felt since she knew that it would only lead to disappointment.

Vanessa would live as long as she wanted to, Fiddlesticks likely didn't have that option. Thus, to spare him the misery of not growing old with someone, Vanessa remained aloof in terms of romantic feelings.

Vanessa gave Fiddlesticks a look of confusion. Perhaps it was because he asked her for something she didn't possess. Vanessa did eye the newsletter with great interest from a distance so he naturally assumed she would be the next one to have it. In truth, Fiddlesticks didn't care about the newsletter. He just wanted an excuse to talk to Vanessa. "Thank you. The design is an old one, though I had it rebuilt using modern materials. I have more weapons at home, though this one is my personal favorite, so I brought it with me." she replied. Her tone was polite yet business like.

"Oh, that's really cool." replied Fiddlesticks sheepishly.

Fiddlesticks may be clueless at times but a fool he was not. He could tell, with a high percentage of probability, that she wasn't into him. This realisation would've crushed Fiddlesticks if it weren't for the fact that he was used to disappointment. The only thought that consoled him was that he was with what seemed like a pretty cool space crew and that Vanessa herself seemed very professional. A professional like her would never let things get awkward. The prospect that soon he'll get to sink his teeth into some honey braised ribs and sweet potato fries also kept his spirits up. Hey, it's a big galaxy and there's plenty of fish in it, literally and figuratively.

Vanessa and the swarm of bees each gave their spiel about what missions to take from the supposed list. Apparently the swarm of bees was the captain. Fiddlesticks was skeptical of this seemingly peculiar arrangement. He decided to test this captain, or captains, a little.

"Excuse me sir, or sirs. Are you or you all the captain or captains of our crew?" Fiddlesticks asked the swarm of bees. "If that's the case, then I assume you know what to do in an emergency? Let's say that we're boarded by space pirates, what do we do?" challenged Fiddlesticks.

Elarin's eyes opened exhaustedly after the ball of sauce-covered paper bounced off his snout. With a hiss of air as the spines on his head and neck were removed from the holes they made in the upholstery as his head shifted forward. Elarin noted that Vanessa was talking about the various missions listed on the want ad, including one that was actually someone offering help, and a massive space battle. Elarin scratched his snout a bit with his first two claws on his left hand, and glanced down at the list. He read through the list, making careful note of the less violent cries for help, then took to listening in on the conversation.

Elarin had a good internal laugh at Fiddlesticks trying to hit on Vanessa, which was audible as a small hiss to any that cared to listen. When Fiddlesticks began to question Will(or rather THE Will, but Elarin had taken to calling it Will)'s authority as Captain, he spoke up.

"Let me stop ya right there, kid. Will and I are two of the longest-serving members of this ship's crew. We've been through more together than I care to remember right now, so believe me when I say that Will is probably THE most qualified person here to captain the ship."

With that, he pulled a sucker from inside his sweatshirt pocket, unwrapped the paper, and popped it in his mouth. "Now, about these missions. The Quest for Flavor certainly ain't designed for combat, even with all those modifications that Mr. Icey, or whatever his name was, added, so that mission's out. Now, I can get us to the planets listed in the other ones no problem, but as far as which mission I'd rather help on, I'd like to hit up this 'Zane' guy. He sounds like a pretty cool frood, someone who knows where his towel is, all that jazz. So I say we help him out, but that's just my vote. I'll listen to whatever anyone else has to say."

So Toony had been one of the first at the meeting, the bearded fellow and the giant spider lady eventually making their way at the table. While the dwarf made his order and asked how everyone was doing, the spider lady replied to Toony's question about who and what everyone was. Well, who she was anyway, the what she did Toony guessed by her demeanor as some matriarch or mother figure. Though the name was... interesting. Sure Toony could easily just replicate the sounds she made, but the more common language name of Tik Tik was both less exhaustive to say and faster, so Toony decided to just call her that. Not like Toony could think of a better nickname, well, one that rolled off the metaphorical tongue so to speak.

Hearing the old timely mechanical whirls of the waiter bot as it accepted everyone's order kind of got to Toony more than it did anyone else.
"I am glad I'm not that guy." Toony said when the waiter was out of earshot. "I know I'm a robot and all, but I find the processing of the old models really off putting."

Now while the ship's captain and Vanessa were looking over the missions in the day's paper, Toony noticed Fiddlesticks acting weird. He had his eye on Vanessa ever since his little joke, and Toony figured he tried to flirt with Vanessa when making strange or incorrect idle chatter. Vanessa being fairly dismissive of Fiddlesticks, although the change in her posture was a bit confusing on Toony's end. Toony figured it must've been some culture thing on Vinessa's end or something.

What was interesting though was the discussion over the missions in the paper. From the sounds of things, the crew was going to take the second mission offering, as the first many of them weren't equipped for, Vinessa having only a low tech gun and the others not having many weapons of note. Plus they probably had a pulse generator to deal with robots.
"I agree with Vanessa. I'm much more suited to combat then the rest of you, and even I don't like that one. I'm fine with any other mission though. I just want a nice adventure!" Toony said with a happy look on her face. Elarin looked a bit bothered at Fiddlestick's question about the captain. (Toony was also happy to have a better name to call the captain other than captain, The Mind, or the Bees. Will had a great ring to it) waiting for him to finish his ideas about the mission, Toony chimed in. "And I'm your answer to pirates there Fiddlesticks. Why else did you think you have a nice lady like me?" She said giving him an ominous wink.

25 pairs of eyes stare at those who had spoken slightly confused, they had commented on what The Mind had assumed to be a news item and the description of the Help wanted section as if they were options. They were considering whether said fact should be brought up or whether The Mind had read the letter entirely wrong in the first place when the rather portly and excitable engineer piped up

"Excuse me sir, or sirs. Are you or you all the captain or captains of our crew?" Fiddlesticks asked "If that's the case, then I assume you know what to do in an emergency? Let's say that we're boarded by space pirates, what do we do?"

The bees having been reading at the time only heard the ‘we're boarded by space pirates, what do we do?’ part and rapidly buzzed into action. The Mind, decided that going with his charges gut reaction would be better than trying to shout them down vanished for a few moments, the purple glow blinking on and off once. Within a second there were 25 laser pistols and tiny knife weapons that looked like a cross between a sword and a syringe were drawn from various jackets and the drinks can sized humanoids prepared for the worst. .

At this point the ever reliable Elarin chimed in with a more reasonable response but by that point the order had gone out.

”Thank you for your vote of confidence Elarin but allow me to demonstrate the appropriate response”

20 seconds after the question was asked the doors opened and 35 bees wearing military helmets, flak armor and armed with pen sized laser rifles barreled in, shouting the most terrifying war cry their little lungs and high pitched voices could muster forming a protective ring around the booth. They are followed about 10 more seconds later by 40 more in a ridiculous rope setup carrying the ship’s minigun. This is promptly plonked on the middle of the table and then maned by the carriers into a sort of turret configuration. The entire congregation then proceeded to stand ready to repel borders for about 10 more seconds before becoming confused at the lack of pirates.

where is the pirate invasion they asked anyone who would listen, last time they were attacked there were men with candy filled beards and sail ships in space, and the time before that weird beaked robots, this lot look more like your regular Henderson's Ribs patronage. Unless they are ninga pirates some began to suggest, and are currently sneaking about waiting to ambush us

Before the Bees could become either bored and wander off or scare themselves with tales of robot zombie ninja pirates from the sun or something the mind spoke once more, considerably louder and more imposing with the 100 armed bees in the area

”And that is how we respond to pirates on my ship! Good job troops, back to the transport operation with you, extra ribs tonight for everyone. No not you lot get back there you're going to be eating soon anyway”

The 75 all filed out again taking the minigun with them, the original 25 bees went back to their seat after a bit of confusion.

”Now where were we? ah yes the potential missions, so far we have one suggestion and that is the party. Oh and yes, Toony is here for when we need some more concentrated force. She is the tip of the spear, so to speak.”