Toony couldn't help but laugh at Will's little demonstration, clapping excitedly. There was just something... nonsensical but perfectly logical about the whole thing and she figured that the pirates figured the same thing before they were repelled. Just envisioning the scene of a bunch of bees swarming pirates with all those weapons all yelling different obscenities...
"Hehehe. Those poor pirates. I've got my ways of dealing with them, but your way just sounds so much more fun!" It took Toony a bit to settle down. Will was certainly an entertaining kind of hive mind, the last one Toony having dealt with being the standard 'Assimilate or die' kind. Really the serious types irked her the wrong way and the whole situation helped her relax a bit. It seemed that formalities weren't a big thing with this group so far. And as long as you were nice and understood that Will and Elarin' were the commanders, you were given quite a bit of freedom.

"I'm going to go try that 'free' icecream. Meat flavor doesn't sound very appetizing, But who knows, I might be surprised." With that, Toony got up and got herself a good chunk of the icecream from the machine. Placing the palm of her hand on the nozzle, her arm turning into some kind of hose, she pulled the lever, 'absorbing' all the icecream that came out. It looked like what you'd think, a metal tentacle undulating as the icecream went into it, pooling in where Toony's stomach would be if she had one. While she could process material anywhere, organics tended to like it when she acted like them, even if it came off a bit goofy. Having gotten a good amount of the meat flavored product, she made her way back to the table. Though it was a bit tricky getting back into her seat with her 'stomach' being a bit inflated from the stored icecream.

"Anyone want some? It tastes... interesting. Not as good as chocolate, but its not super bad either." Toony said, tilting her head with a happy look in her eyes. "Or does anyone want something else? Lots of carbon to make stuff with."

Vanessa felt slightly bad about having to continually ignore Fiddlesticks' flirting to the point that he realized that she wasn't into him, but it was truly for the best out of the whole situation. While she was hesitant to reveal her age to the crew, even her official file merely had an infinity symbol, she had been around more than long enough to know that anyone still mortal was better off with another mortal. Seeing your body grow old and frail while theirs remained youthful and strong was often enough to drive someone mad, much less ruin a relationship. Vanessa had seen it happen countless times upon her homeworld and it usually left both parties worse for wear. A professional relationship would be more satisfying in the long run, even if a physical or intimate relationship would provide more satisfaction in the short term.

Elarin's small spiel about how he and Will were the oldest crew members nearly made Vanessa giggle due to the previously mentioned age marked down upon her crew file. Regardless, Vanessa contributed nothing to that conversation. She had nothing to say that would help and this found the best option to be to say nothing. It was the most polite solution to the whole situation, and thus Vanessa chose it over making a snarky comment.

The display of cohesion that The Bees provided brought a small clap from Vanessa, not one of much flair or noise to disrupt the eatery, but a small and polite golf clap to show her appreciation for such timing. Shifting her legs had really meant nothing more than seeking greater comfort, since one had started to tingle from lack of proper circulation. Toony probably didn't know of this due to her inherent lack of a circulatory system, so Vanessa forgave the misunderstanding.

The offer of a meat flavored ice cream didn't really interest Vanessa, since she had indeed eaten earlier and was currently satisfied. On top of that simple ice cream, meat flavored or otherwise, wasn't nutritional to Vanessa. Vanessa knew that there was no way that the restaurant would have the machine dispense blood to add to the ice cream, since even her food had to be special ordered. Thus she politely shook her head at the offer and continued to wait for something that required her input to happen. Thus far, nothing was really and truly demanding of her specific attention outside of deciding what mission they would be going on.

Speaking of such, Vanessa was relieved that they weren't going to be taking the first mission. The ship, as had been mentioned several times over, was simply not built to handle that kind of combat, even with bizarre and unknown modifications made to it over time. The party was gaining traction, and thus Vanessa made a small comment about that particular mission. "A party? Clothes provided? I'm already dressed for the occasion." Vanessa made a small gesture towards the suit she was wearing. Most people would see it as being rather overdressed for simply eating at a rather mid-class eatery, but Vanessa was used to dressing formally for nearly every occasion. It was a custom upon her homeworld to wear your best as often as you could.

Vanessa didn't particularly care about the mission, but something did seem slightly fishy about someone merely throwing a party for the sake of throwing a party. Something insidious could easily be hidden behind the act of getting a large group of people together and allowing chaos to ensue. Vanessa had read about it in books several times over, and knew that this kind of plan dated back to even ancient times, as her homeworld bore some truly ancient libraries that held books even older than the library. Thus, Vanessa held the mission in suspicion, but didn't mention it for fear of ruining her comrades hopes at attending a party. That would've been rude, and Vanessa could likely think of several reasons to take no mission at all, but then that would have defeated the purpose of forming the crew altogether.

Thus, Vanessa stayed quiet, and would go with whatever the group decided it wanted to go with.

"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." stated the iguana guy. The irritation was evident in his voice.

Fiddlesticks didn't notice him before for he was asleep for a portion of the gathering. He seemed like one of the relatively quieter members of the crew, alongside the giant spider. Fiddlesticks has known only one other type of reptiloid before. They resembled chameleons. Their skin changed colour depending on their mood. They always snatched flies out of the air with their really long tongues whenever they flew too close. Both characteristics Fiddlesticks admired. He found them to be very chill people, easy to talk to. Fiddlesticks wasn't sure about this iguana dude though. He seemed a bit too serious and uptight for his liking. Fiddlesticks felt that it wasn't a good idea to anger him.

Before Fiddlesticks could clumsily stammer out an apology the iguana guy proceeded to have his say on the possible mission whilst enjoying a sweet lollipop. Fiddlesticks decided to be careful around him from then on.

"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" chimed in the robotic maid. "And I'm your answer to pirates there Fiddlesticks. Why else did you think you have a nice lady like me?" It asked giving him an ominous wink. This model had a charming personality as well as a sense of humour. Fiddlesticks began to really take a shine to it. He was eager to see what a robotic maid could do in battle in particular. Maybe it would spray washing detergent into the space pirates eyes or something. That would be useful, and fragrant.

In response to the challenge issued by Fiddlesticks, the swarm of bees burst into action. It was way too fast and seemingly chaotic for Fiddlesticks to fully comprehend. First, each bee presented their individual weapons. Then they issued their collective battle cry. Finally, a seperate swarm brought in a mini gun and placed it onto the table. And almost as soon as it started, the mini gun was taken away and it was all over. The mysterious voice within the hive then proceeded to ask for more suggestions from the crew about what mission to take.

As the crew has already observed, Fiddlesticks was prone to loud and unexpected outbursts. He was an excitable fellow after all. He tried to hold back but he just couldn't contain himself anymore. "Oh my gosh! THAT WAS AMAZING!" shouted fiddlesticks. He was loud enough to elicit some annoyed stares and a few shooshes in his direction from some of the the other diners. Fiddlesticks was confident that no space pirate was gonna mess with them with this thing in charge.

Fiddlesticks cleared his throat "Oh I mean, uhh, I'm sorry I doubted you captain." he said to the swarm of bees. That was the first time that he ever met a hyper intelligent sentient swarm of bees that shared a single consciousness. Fiddlesticks never knew that such a thing was possible. The Galaxy was a much larger place than Fiddlesticks realised.

"Anyone want some? It tastes... interesting. Not as good as chocolate, but its not super bad either." said the robot maid, tilting its head with a happy look in its eyes. "Or does anyone want something else? Lots of carbon to make stuff with." Fiddlesticks noticed that it returned after wandering off to gorge itself on the free ice cream. It also ate ice cream!?

"Hey! I could really go for some meat ice cream as well. I've always wanted to try that flavour." Fiddlesticks told the robot maid. He had some ideas about the possible mission himself, but that had to wait for now. Ribs and ice cream first, always.

While Vanessa didn't take to Toony's offer of ice cream, Fiddlesticks did. "Ok. Give me a bit." Holding out her hand, Toony turned her hand into a large sphere. A few wooshing and sloshing noises, a few undulating metal limbs (mostly her arm and 'stomach'), and a bit of scientific magic later and the sphere receded back into Toony's hand, revealing a black bowl made out of carbon holding meat icecream for Fiddlesticks.

"There ya go. One fabricated bullet proof heat resistant carbon icecream bowl with meat flavored icecream inside!" Toony said with a cheery look as she handed the food to Fiddlesticks. While the bowl was made by converting some of the icecream into raw carbon and reconfiguring it, the rest of the icecream was what was actually being served.
"Anyone else? I've got enough for a few more people." Toony chimed, holding out her hand and wondering if any of the others would accept her offer.

Fiddlesticks took the bullet proof heat resistant bowl of ice cream that was offered. "Wow, is there anything you can't do?" he asked the maid robot. "What make and model are you? I've never seen a robotic maid as advanced as you before. Are you like some kind of prototype or something? Who is your manufacturer? Are you able to turn into a pinball machine? Can you get poopy stains out of my underpants? Can you make me more ice cream whenever I want?" When Fiddlesticks was interested in something, he tended to spew forth avalanches of questions. Many found that trait annoying, some found it endearing.

Fiddlesticks took a generous scoop of the meat ice cream then shovelled it into his gaping mouth. It tasted kinda like cold, bland roast beef, in cream form. He agreed with the robotic maid, the flavour was meh. Fiddlesticks decided to put the bowl of ice cream to the side. He didn't want to spoil his appetite. Speaking of which.

"When's the food gonna get here? It's already been six minutes." Fiddlesticks asked of nobody in particular.

Vanessa heard Fiddlesticks complain about lack of food and knew that he had a bit of a point. The service was usually prompt and Vanessa had seen the waiter entering the orders not too long after he had taken them. Vanessa had gotten her own food rather quickly, though that was because it was a secret order that she was allowed to have custom made due to her vampiric nature. Hefting her rifle, Vanessa uncrossed her legs and set the weapon neatly within the seat next to her. After making sure that her weapon was safe, secure, and unloaded, as anyone remotely responsible with their weapons would do, Vanessa made a brief announcement to the table. "I shall go and see if there has been a delay with our food. I shall return as soon as I am able."

With that, Vanessa leaned forward to get up and once more vanished within a puff of smoke as she teleported to the front of the table. Taking a moment to straighten her suit and make sure everything was in order. Weaving through the crowds around the eatery with a supreme grace that was usually reserved for royalty in training Vanessa made her way up to the counter. She tapped a small bell to alert the worker there, a slightly chubby human wearing a nametag that read "Clarke" was working the counter at this point in time. He raised a hand to Vanessa signaling that he heard the request, and shortly thereafter he stood before Vanessa. Vanessa and Clarke exchanged greetings and Vanessa got to the reason why she was at the counter rather quickly. "I'm here to check on an order for table seven. Yes, the large one. Is it ready?"

Clarke informed Vanessa that the order was indeed ready and was presently sitting under heat lamps, but their delivery bot had broken a stabilizer and couldn't remain upright. The eatery had a technician working to get a fix, but it was going to take a bit. Vanessa gave him a small wave and said. "I'll help. Show me where the food is." Clarke raised an eyebrow and told Vanessa that typically they weren't allowed to have non-staff assist in the kitchen, but since they had just gotten a fresh round of orders in they needed to clear the space. Pointing Vanessa to the kitchen doors Clarke said. "Through there, to the right. Third table is all your orders." Vanessa nodded and thanked Clarke for his understanding before leaving.

Stepping lightly through the kitchen doors, Vanessa headed to the right and found the third table. It was filled to the brim with plates and bowls containing the various orders of food that everyone had asked for. It continually surprised Vanessa how the eatery was able to meet all kinds of orders, despite them being rather strange. Regardless, Vanessa picked up an armful of plates and stepped towards table seven before vanishing once again. Reappearing at the table for a brief moment, she set down the food quickly and chimed. "More to come!" before vanishing again.

Vanessa would vanish and reappear several times as she teleported back and forth between the storage room and the table. Each time setting down an armful of food before vanishing again. About one minute later Vanessa finally reappeared and set down the last thing from the holding table within the kitchen, the coffee requested by the pilot. With all the food accounted for Vanessa teleported back into her seat before she took up her rifle again. Thankful that it was safe, Vanessa gave a wave to the food she had brought to the table and said. "Enjoy, everyone!"

Save for the speedy work done by Vanessa, very little food was coming out from behind the counter, and some of the other customers were beginning to voice their disdain by politely asking the beleaguered waiter-bots about their food, or loudly commenting about the terrible review they were giving the place on SpaceBook or, in the case of the government-in-exile of the Jolly Junta sat in booth twelve, declaring that they'll annex the whole system if they don't get their ribs soon. These were, of course, idle threats. The military might of the Jolly Junta was eclipsed by the vehicles sitting outside the restaurant, and the number of customers trying to access SpaceBook gummied up the local network.

Guerlaghiix And The Flaughjinks were not too pleased about the lack of service either and, seeing Booth Seven get their food was like waving a red flag to a Henderson's Mega Bull. Dangerous, but also kind of amusing, owing to the lack of coordination endemic to that breed. Guerlaghiix rose from his seat, and kept on rising. He was tall, and spindly with it, as if some cruel genetic engineer had gone out of their way to create the gangliest looking pan-humanoid possible as part of a dare. It had many of the features an alien spotter would associate with a pan-humanoid; two arms, two legs, a slight pot belly to the stomach region and a face that played host to various sensory features. Guerlaghiix had two holes for where eyes ought to go, but only one eye to share between them, as the other was covered up with an oily rag that served, just about, as an eyepatch. His singular eye did, however, allow him to condense two eyes worth of malice and downright grumpiness into one. He was skinny, lacking in muscles and completely unarmed, but he did have a cool leather jacket with a patch on the back that read "Guerlaghiix & The Flowjinks", and that sort of apparel tended to inspire a misplaced confidence in the best, and worst, of people.

"What's this? Queue jumpers, eh," his voice was difficult to hear, on account of how his head was brushing against the high ceiling and, spotting the newsletter, he snorted, sending a fine cloud of mucus and snot into the air above the crew, "and Space Friends too! What're a bunch of..."

Guerlaghiix tried to think of an appropriate insult, but it was quite obvious that no single catchy word could be used to encompass the diverse members of the Quest For Flavour, and it had him momentarily stumped. Impulse control and forward planning were two traits bred out of their species at an early point. This was in part because they were indeed created as something of a joke, a point which made the species even more antagonistic and just a little bit more ridiculous.

"...friends up to? Take my advice, whatever it is, don't bother, me and the boys have it all under control. Since we're all such friends," the manner in which he spat the word out suggested that he didn't exactly consider them friends, or it could simply be an unfortunate speech impediment, it was hard to be certain, "how about I take some of them fries?"

One long arm reached down to take a bowl of sweet potato fries. Guerlaghiix's six long fingers wriggled in anticipation. The restaurant held it's breath, before a technician out back began to beat the air circulatory system with a hammer, cursing the day the manager installed the Dramatic Tension module into the AI that maintained the life support systems.

The bees watched Toony’s bowl construction trick with wide eyes before engaging in a group huddle to discuss what they might ask the robot for, which was only interrupted by the arrival of food brought most graciously by Vanessa.

”Thank you Vanessa, I assume there is something up with the standard delivery method?”

The bees broke their huddle and immediately dug in so when the Large humanoid who was so rude too as not introduce himself and had the audacity to try and take someone else's food arrived The Mind had wrestle the two captain bees to turn round and actually look at him.

In an attempt to prepare for the worst and perhaps reduce the impact on their Gold Star standing that starting a fight in a Henderson ribs would bring the 75 bees that had so recently vacated the premises came back in the door and headed for the kitchen. After some confusion and explaining to Clarke that this was not, in fact, a robbery the groups started ferrying out all the other tables orders as well, with only minor losses to the hungry deliverers. They made the decision of pointedly leaving the impatient big man’s lot till last, their delivery would probably occur some time after this situation had resolved itself.

Of that situation, the two captain bees who had been forced to pay attention now glared at the intruder with all the confidence they could muster against someone probably a 100 times their height. The Mind, having no such concern due to being present in the now relaying bees as well, still decided to try to put on the airs of being diplomatic so that when either of the deceptively strong ladies(or one considerably more obviously strong lady, basically anyone who wasn't currently sleepy or Fiddlesticks) intervened they could claim the moral high ground.

”Judging by the clock I would say we our food arrived right on time, Vanessa was simply proactive about its retrieval. As for what we are doing, that is non of your business and frankly there's more than enough problems that need fixing that there is no way you can handle them all. Honestly I would surprised if you managed even one. What even is a Flowjink?”

Unfortunately, as every amateur xenologist knows, the race choice of hive-mind comes with massive penalties in it's diplomacy stat, so The Mind was not so adept at dealing with those that may be considered an enemy. If the response where to be rated by hive-mind scholars of the diplomatic arts it would have got an A simply for not being an incomprehensible psychic cacophony followed by planetary invasion.

Neither the Bees or the Mind could do much about the large hand before it arrived, distracted or disembodied as they where, so they would have to leave it up to the wonder of the sweet potato fries to defend their meal and honor physically if they so desired.

Vanessa was really quite annoyed by the fact that Guerlaghiix was now muscling in upon their food and merriment. That would simply not do, nor would the cloud of mucus and other unpleasantness that had just been emitted from Guerlaghiix's nose. With a swift motion Vanessa gave her gun a spin and sent the cloud of mucus and other unpleasantness flowing away from their table, and away from Guerlaghiix himself to avoid further aggravating him by hitting him with his own mucus. Though that would be honestly rather funny. Vanessa took the time now to teleport out of the booth, gun now in hand, and said. "Now, let's be polite here. That dish is our food, and specifically that dish of sweet potato fries belongs to Fiddlesticks there. I'd appreciate it if you didn't go about touching it too much. The delivery bot has a broken stabilizer and they have someone working on a fix."

It was a subtle motion that Vanessa now made, though one obvious to anyone focusing on Vanessa at the moment rather than the sweet potato fries that were currently the topic of discussion, Vanessa heft her rifle and flipped it to hold it by the barrel, though one would notice something extra to this particular flip. Vanessa had given one of her wrists a flick, and with that same hand caught the back of her gun, right where the trapdoor to load the ammunition would be. Sliding her hand down the weapon, Vanessa pressed the small lever against her shoulder to close the trapdoor rather quickly. If questioned about it, she would say that the rifle needed to be worked on due to it's old age and that the lever was rather loose. Anyone who had previously been talking to Vanessa would know that this was, in fact, a lie. The rifle was in near perfect condition and Vanessa took care of it on a routine basis. What had really happened was an extremely subtle loading. Now Vanessa was holding onto a loaded rifle, ready to fire with a light squeeze of the trigger.

Vanessa didn't want to shoot anyone, though now she obviously could. Depending upon how this situation went Vanessa may or may not be springing into a more violent action. Holding the barrel of the weapon, Vanessa rested the trigger area upon her shoulder, next to her neck. It would be difficult for someone to try and pull the trigger of the weapon without Vanessa knowing about it ahead of time. With her weapon now ready to be used, Vanessa spoke once again. Her accent now being used on purpose rather than worming it's way into her exited speech. "Vyy don't Vee just take our seats once again and forget zat zis detail made it's way into zee day, hm?"

Vanessa made the effort to use her accent sparingly, as speaking with a thick accent could easily lead to conversations being rather irritating as it was repeatedly asked what the speaker had said rather than the message actually getting across in a timely fashion. Plain English was the most widespread language and typically you had to be on homeworlds to find other tongues being spoken. Vanessa was rather fluent in German due to her upbringing and thus was capable of speaking as such, though she often didn't to make conversations quick and easy. She was also dabbling in Latin, though since the language had already been ancient it was rather hard to learn correctly.

With everything said and done Vanessa could do little now but wait. Hopefully the idiotic brute before her would back down without too much of a fuss. It might just turn into a nasty and unpleasant situation if he didn't.

Elarin watched with bemusement as Fiddlesticks made various remarks about Toony, calling her a 'maid', and all sorts of others. He felt that Fiddlesticks was just some sort of large kid in the end, and he didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. But when he expressed his concern about the food taking longer than expected, Elarin couldn't help but agree. The food DID seem to be taking longer than normal for a Henderson's Ribs, and might be a sign of bad things to come.

But when Vanessa brought the food out, Elarin's face grew a bit less weary, a small smirk forming on his reptilian snout. Finishing the sucker he had opened with a crunch, and placing the stick with the straw trash, he took a deep sip from his coffee. "Ahhh...now THAT'S the stuff...This'll keep me going for a bit longer." he said, the color returning to his scales, and his eyes looking a bit less glazed over. He was still in a somewhat foul mood however, so when Guerlaghiix began to threaten the group over getting their food first, he couldn't help but let out a groan. Fortunately, Vanessa seemed to have a hold on the situation, so Elarin just went back to his coffee and meal, grumbling something about "A bunch of strags that could go belgium themselves...", though he was careful to keep the volume low enough to where only those at the table could hear.

Fiddlesticks was in for a rude awakening if he kept thinking Toony was a maid. Sure she had those dress looking metal bits, but that was a jump in logic a bit too far. Even Elarin noticed how childish Fiddlesticks was acting, but before Toony could think of a good retort, Vanessa took some initiative with how long the food was taking and got it herself. Forgetting Fiddlestick's 'maid' comment fort he moment, Toony perked up as Vanessa came back with everyone's food.

"Yay! Food!" Toony said as she started to munch on her ordered food. Well, munch was just a phrase since it was more like she was just turning her hands into goop over her food, covering it entirely for a few moments before lifting her hand, said food disappearing as her arms undulated slightly to show the direction of where the matter was going. She didn't get much into her meal though before an angry patron came wandering towards the table, having not gotten his food and instead antagonising Fiddlesticks and the rest of the group.

Will didn't handle the situation all too well, even if what he said was pretty logical. Meanwhile Vanessa decided to hold her gun in a weird way after standing up to deal with the newcomer. Elarin meanwhile just grumbled obsceneties as the alien. Noting how the others acted, Toony decided to throw her opinion into the ring. Grabbing a good chunk of her food, she got up and stood beside Vanessa. Absorbing a large portion of her food in a menacing manner.
"Hey buddy. Suggestion. If your so annoyed at your lack of food, why not take some initiative like Vanessa here and go get it yourself? The robots here are very low tech and probably don't get much maintenance, so you should expect delays." Toony continued to eat her food as she talked. Since she didn't eat food in a 'natural' way it was quite easy to both eat and talk. To both agitate or maybe appease the angry patron, depending on his intelligence, Toony fabricated a simple pleather jacket with the words "Big Bad Boy" inside an eyeball rattle emblazoned on its back and tossed it at the snot flinging alien. Toony didn't really know too much about his species, but warmth was something every organic craved, even if it came with something that might be taken offensively. It was more fun to see the decision of the other party and see if they listened to her intimidation, than be a true pacifist.

"I shall go and see if there has been a delay with our food. I shall return as soon as I am able." Vanessa announced to the group. She then promptly disappeared in a puff of smoke. This was in response to the question Fiddlesticks asked aloud, of nobody in particular. He was just blurting out the most pressing thought he had at the time. It was a another foible of his. Usually these pressing thoughts of his revolved around food, but sometimes he would blurt out some surprisingly insightful statements. Honestly Fiddlesticks didn't expect an answer, but he got one, from her. Not only that, Vanessa actually left the table to retrieve their food. Despite Vanessa's coolness towards Fiddlesticks, he felt that he still had feelings for her. Fiddlesticks made an audible love sick sigh the moment Vanessa disappeared. Normally he would be beyond amazed at demonstrations of super powers such as teleportation, but at that moment, Fiddlesticks was more dazzled by her sparkling eyes.

In almost no time at all Vanessa reappeared with an armful of plates containing wildly varied forms of food. "More to come" said Vanessa. Her sweet voice twinkled out like a wind chime caught in a summer breeze, accompanied by the smell of lavender in the air. She vanished once more. A moment later, she brought another armful of food. This time it contained both his beloved plate of honey braised ribs and a marvellous bowl of sweet potato fries! Whilst both hungry and presented with his favourite food, nothing else mattered to Fiddlesticks. That was probably why he didn't get invited to dinner parties. That and possibly because he didn't have any friends. Fiddlesticks excitedly received his order from the ever so lovely Vanessa. Nothing else existed. All was food and everything was love.

An unknown amount of time later, Fiddlesticks reached for his bowl of sweet potato fries. That was when it happened. A large, gangly, and rather grotesque looking hand reached down and scooped it up. "Hey, what gives!?" Fiddlesticks blurted out. He looked up to see what was possibly one of the ugliest people he has ever seen. It was really tall and lanky but fat in the middle. It looked like if a bat mated with a salamander but then they vomited afterwards, this guy would be that vomit. It had a balled up oily rag where one of it's eyes should be. It also wore a very shabby and rather cheap looking leather jacket. The origin of the stains on it, Fiddlesticks didn't want to know.

Fiddlesticks suddenly had a flashback to when he was in the third grade. Of how he would get his lunch stolen by bullies like this thing every day. How he would sit there with tears welling in his huge grape fruit sized eyes. He was too scared to do anything about it back then.

Fiddlesticks was filled with an uncontrollable rage. Without a second thought he unholstered the massive wrench he had strapped to his back. Fiddlesticks let out the manliest battle cry he could muster, which many have found to be unintimidating, even cute. With a surprising amount of speed and strength he, with both hands, swung the wrench down onto the head of the big ugly bully.

Whether by accident or design, it turned out to be a remarkably efficient strategy for dealing with Guerlaghiix the Fry Snatcher. Observers from the Jolly Junta in booth twelve nodded appreciatively, enjoying their recently served meal and the (admittedly rather condensed) display of how diplomacy serves as a prelude to war. The Will had begun with diplomatic overtures, presenting their viewpoint in a way that didn't make them seem weak. Some of the Junta were taking notes, scribbling frantically on their paper napkins while keeping their eyes on the Battle At Booth Seven.

Then came the rearmament stage of the war. Vanessa made it clear through her actions that Booth Seven was more than capable of defending itself, and that the military might of Booth Seven could very quickly be brought to bear. Then, the distraction - a last minute play at appeasement that would lower the defences of this invader. The faux-leather jacket would surely initially appeal to their sense of pride, until such a time that they'd recognise the insult of using such an infantile thing, a child's rattle, on the design. Finally, there came the hammer wrench blow, the swift, decisive action that exploited their lowered guard. The war would be over in a single stroke. In it's own way, the Battle At Booth Seven bore similarities to the campaigns waged by the greatest warmongers the galaxy had ever known. Certainly, the government-in-exile of the Jolly Junta were appreciative of it, and those that weren't busily engaged in writing down their thoughts on how it served as a microcosm of their first coup were on their seats, whooping, yelling and punching the air.

Guerlaghiix was not a military historian and so could not appreciate any of this. He did have a qualification from Pericles University Of Culinary Acceptability, and his final project on anti-gravity quiche was the talk of the campus for months, but the military applications of such a dish were never taken seriously. From his perspective, it was something of a blur, culminating in a fairly serious blow from a slightly less serious looking man. As he slowly crumpled to the floor, eyeball swivelling about in his head, he gave out a strained, and quite possibly final, order to his gang.

"Avenge... me... boys..."

The Flaughjinks stood up, as one, bumping their heads against the ceiling. None of them seemed particularly keen to do much in the way of avenging, especially as an ice pack, a trip to a back-alley DocBot and a few days of rest would probably see Guerlaghiix back on his feet. After a brief whispered conversation between the Flaughjinks, one of them was shoved out and sent stumbling towards the quietly snoring Guerlaghiix and the occupants of Booth Seven. This one had two eyes with which to look apologetic, and with his hands in the air, he gave Guerlaghiix a gentle poke with his foot.

"You okay, boss?"

The boss grunted quietly.

"You want us to, uh, smoke these fools," it was clear from his expression and the tone of his voice that his heart was really not into it, and it was only because his boss was almost entirely unresponsive that he would dare ask this question. Guerlaghiix grunted again before slipping into blessed unconsciousness. With some face saved for the time being, the Bravest Of The Flaughjinks started on trying to lift Guerlaghiix to his feet. Considering the size, spindly shape and general awkwardness of their species, it wasn't easy.

Vanessa watched the situation unfold before her eyes and gave a slight sigh to the violent solution that Fiddlesticks had found. Now that Guerlaghiix was dealt with, Vanessa knew that someone might actually wise up to the idea of calling the authorities. Taking a moment to invert her rifle Vanessa once more worked the lever of the gun and removed the .303 british round she had loaded before. With a flick of the wrist it vanished once again and Vanessa closed the trapdoor of her rifle gently. Looking to the table, loaded with food that would render everyone sick if they tried to eat it quickly enough Vanessa gave a nod to herself and once again vanished into nothingness.

Reappearing before Clarke Vanessa informed him briefly that table seven needed several to-go boxes, including some suited for housing honey. Vanessa wasn't captain, but she knew that if someone wound up calling any kind of enforcement that there could be trouble that would be better off not dealt with. After being informed that they would be brought by in a few moments, Vanessa thanked Clarke and teleported once again. Reappearing at the table, her rifle carefully pressed against her shoulder with her hand holding the butt of the weapon in a resting position, Vanessa spoke. "I've arranged for several to-go boxes, including some rated for holding honey. Munch on what you can, but it would likely be best if we left sooner rather than later encase any kind of enforcement shows up."

Vanessa also looked about, noting that Tik-Tik was now missing. Vanessa gave a shrug, figuring that she had something else to go and attend to and put the thought out of her mind. They were short a crew member now, but the contracts weren't exactly binding. Nothing to really be done about it. Vanessa then noticed Clarke vanishing into the kitchen, likely to get their to-go boxes, and said. "Boxes are on the way, so please do munch on whatever you can while we have the time. I'd rather not deal with the red tape that usually comes with dealing with enforcement."

Vanessa was personally not worried about what the enforcement could muster against her since she could just teleport out of the situation and assume a new appearance relatively easily. The problem was that doing this didn't really negate the red tape, it just avoided it for the time being and inevitably made more red tape for when you possibly were caught at a later date. It was a headache all around and it was better to be quick and vacate the area before anything else happened that could possibly make any future dealings with enforcement more of a headache.

Regardless of the outcome of her actions, Vanessa teleported back into her seat once again. It was now more spacious due to the absence of Tik-Tik, though Vanessa was content to stay in her previous seating arrangement. There was a few minutes to spare before the to-go boxes arrived, and thus more could happen to change the situation. All Vanessa could do now was wait, having done everything in her power to avoid further trouble for the group.

Well that was not how they expected that to go, however the enemy leadership had been taken out (by Fiddlesticks no less, that was unexpected) and his mooks were surrendering. Hive mind diplomacy stated that now was the time to assimilate the survivors into the hive but frankly the ship was already close to capacity thanks to the over-sized warp engine taking up most of the space so that wasn't an option. As diplomats also end wars The Mind, having calmed down a bit now that the immediate danger was out the way decided it would be a good idea to graciously accept their surrender and move on with their day.

Vanessa appeared in the back where some of the delivering Bees were collecting the last of the delayed orders to apparently prepare for a speedy exit by getting boxes for takeout. The Mind manifested back there in those bees and shifted the food delivery priority order to get the Flowjink’s food out to them right now to cement the cooling of hostilities with a peace offering before popping back to the 25 at the table.

”I am glad you have seen the futility of messing with us, here is your food, you best get back to your own business lest something terrible happens”

Mind left an ominous pause as The Bees quickly ferried the various dishes that had been labeled as belonging to the Flowjink’s table too them as a peace offering. Along with this a large bag of ice was delivered by some concerned corpsbees, who promptly bandaged it to Guerlaghiix’s head wound using duct tape and napkins.

Like your food getting cold, suggested the Bees setting down the last of the Flowjink’s food

The deliveries were finished and the armed bees left again as the 25 settled back into their seats, happy that everything was in order. The Mind, unlike Vanessa, was not concerned with possible arrests as they thought the whole situation had gone relatively swimmingly and most law enforcement agencies heard minor incident and swarm species in the same report and just assumed it was an elaborate prank of some kind.

”Good work there crew, although perhaps a warning before resorting to violence next time Fiddlesticks? Anyhow, Vonny, did you have any opinion on our next destination?”

The immediate matter dealt with the Bees got back to the pressing matter of eating and the Mind to the issue of their work for the month.

Well then... Toony wasn't expecting Fiddlesticks to whack the alien guy with a wrench and knock him out cold. Better than her filling the guy up with carbon rounds though, she figured. At least his compatriots understood what was going on when they came to pick up their friend, looking at the group before walking off. Oh well, crisis averted! Though Vanessa was concerned with the authorities getting involved over a little scuffle like this, Toony wasn't too worried. Considering there was a war going on, the weaker lawkeepers were left behind, and a simple bribe of diamonds usually worked well to let them 'overlook' things, even if Diamonds weren't worth much.

"Hehe. Glad I didn't have to get too involved there." Toony turned back to sit back down at the table, Will's Bees packing up the food and getting ready to take it to the ship. The giant spider lady had gone off somewhere, and with all the commotion around the rest of the crew seemed to be packing up. To help Will out, Toony ate the rest of her food, throwing pretense aside and just more or less hugging all her food towards herself, absorbing them into herself and processing them down and condensing their base elements so as to not be an inflated waddling robot lady when everyone made their eventual escape.

"Think they used a bit too much oil in their food and not enough spices. Lots of hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon, not enough sodium or potassium." Toony said, giving the restaurant a review. Though she embelished her online one a bit more to be a bit more... human. Mostly with spelling mistakes and the like, and less about elements and more about the robot waiters needing an update but giving them a solid 4. "So, what now?"

Once again Fiddlesticks was surprised to find where he ended up. He found himself standing atop the diner table, holding his massive wrench like a samurai sword. In the Chüdan-no-kamae position to be precise. Fiddlesticks then looked down to see the big, ugly, menacing guy passed out in the diner floor. "Oh snap, I really did it this time didn't I." Fiddlesticks said to himself. His arms and legs were shaking from the adrenaline rush from what just occurred. Fiddlesticks decided to sit back down on his diner seat in order to try to calm himself a little.

Fiddlesticks rested his chin upon his palm whilst resting the elbow of the same arm on the diner table. He withdrew into himself in order to figure out what set off his uncharacteristically violent reaction. Fiddlesticks was never usually prone to fits of violence. In fact, many people he has known have said that Fiddlesticks was downright meek. It seemed that it was only when people antagonised him in a way that brought back memories of being bullied as a small child did he ever get violent. Stealing his food and being menacing was one of those things. Fiddlesticks truly believed that he wasn't his past anymore, that he could leave it all behind and start anew, but alas, it wasn't so. Not yet anyway. Fiddlesticks still had some issues that needed to be resolved. One of which was getting back at his school bullies. He really hoped that the crew for the quest for flavour could forgive him, and not see him as a violent psycho. Only time would tell. Fiddlesticks felt that he really needed to explain himself to the rest of the crew. Later, when things calmed down, he decided.

"Good work there crew, although perhaps a warning before resorting to violence next time Fiddlesticks? Anyhow, Vonny, did you have any opinion on our next destination?” said the swarm of bees. Fiddlesticks was relieved to find that the captain wasn't mad about the incident. It was a real load off his mind.

Vanessa had organised for some doggy bags for their food. That was considerate of her, though Fiddlesticks was confident that he would be able to finish the remainder of his ribs and the sweet potato fries before they arrived. She mentioned something about leaving before law enforcement arrived. Fiddlesticks want sure if they would even care that much around those parts, though he did see her point. This wouldn't have been his first run in with the law. He sincerely didn't want another.

Fiddlesticks swore to himself then and there that he would act more mature and adult like in the future. He worried he wouldn't be able to live up to that oath though, for he still had problems that prompted his uncontrollable outbursts. Perhaps the crew of the quest for flavour would help him track down his childhood bullies so he could exact revenge. If they did that, then Fiddlesticks was confident that he would feel better in general. His random violent outbursts would be a thing of the past then, maybe. But he doubted that the quest for flavour took personal requests on behalf of the crew members. He decided to bring his concerns before the captain later. For now, he decided to rack his brain for possible insights the crew could use for their next mission.

Fiddlesticks decided to finish the rest of his honey bruised ribs and sweet potato fries before thinking any further about the mission. His giant wrench lay in the dinner table in front of him. Glistening in gloriously polished stainless steel. It was used for screwing and unscrewing the larger nuts and bolts on the engine and throughout the ship. Fiddlesticks carried it around with him for he considered it his lucky charm. It seemed that whenever he had it around, good things happened. Maybe it was luck? Or perhaps maybe, simply, the mere fact that Fiddlesticks had the giant spanner strapped to his back made him feel more confident. Whatever the case may be, the giant spanner has gotten Fiddlesticks out of trouble before, and it will do so again.

For the life of him Fiddlesticks couldn't think of anything more to add. He tended to be the type of person who went with the flow though he wasn't afraid to speak up and challenge others when something wasn't quite right. He agreed with what the others said about not being ready for space combat. The weapons systems and the general functionality of the ship were several upgrades away from being ready for anything hardcore. They were just starting out on their adventure after all. A bunch of amateurs they were still. Upon further consideration, Fiddlesticks thought that choosing to go help throw a party would be a great first mission for the amateurish crew of the quest for flavour. Perhaps he could find one of his childhood bullies there. A clue maybe?

"Yeah, you know. I'm up for whatever." Fiddlesticks said aloud to the crew. He swung his giant wrench over his left shoulder with his left hand and holstered it in its special holding strap on his back. He figured that the crew would be leaving the diner soon. Not soon enough Fiddlesticks thought.