The meal was almost over by then, everyone having finished their turny-flips and their weak green wine which Lan’ara had heard the Duplo call flup while he/she was serving it.
“Well, that was a lovely meal and I’m glad, as always, to have shared it with my crew,” Captain Glo’ll remarked, raising his voice to be heard above the sound of Drung, who still had two heads that were chewing messily and noisily.
All the other crew members stopped what they were doing and gave him their undivided attention.
“I have only two announcements,” he went on. “First, our next stop will be in the Goddess’s Cloak Galaxy, where there is a very lucrative opportunity to be had buying and selling Yarrow root.”
“Yarrow root?” Laxah frowned. “That can have some nasty side effects.”
“Only about one percent of the time,” Captain Glo’ll said serenely. “Which makes it a low-risk controlled substance as well as an extremely desirable one—perfect for our purposes. We ought to make a tidy profit off of it, once First Mate Needrix finds us a buyer.”
He nodded at Need who nodded back again with perfect assurance. Clearly he knew what he was doing, Lan’ara thought. She found such self-confidence admirable—not to mention extremely attractive.
She had a sudden impulse to reach across the table and take his hand, just to feel their fingers intertwine. Her own hand was halfway across the table when she remembered that he had vowed not to touch her and she pulled back with a deep feeling of regret.
“And secondly,” Captain Glo’ll continued. “If you haven’t met her yet, I would like to introduce you to this young meat-based female who goes by the charming name of…” He looked at her. “Excuse me, my dear—it was abominably rude of him but I don’t believe First Mate Needrix told me your name.”
“Lan’ara,” she said quickly. “If it please you, my Lord Captain, my name is Lan’ara.”
Glo’ll nodded approvingly.
“Her name is Lan’ara,” he repeated loudly, as though making sure everyone had heard. “She will only be with us for a short time, but she is under Needrix’s protection and I understand she’ll be helping out with the cooking, since none of you have the good sense to eat soil and drink nutritious mud-water as I do.”
There were murmurs of approval and Laxah said, “I’ve told you before, Captain—we meat-based creatures can’t live on dirt and mud—it’s physically impossible.”
“Ah, but have you even tried it?” Glo’ll demanded. “No! Just like none of you will try budding instead of inserting your poky parts into the moist cavities of others and thrusting back and forth in that ridiculous ritual you call ‘making sex.’” He shook his head, his leaves rustling like a tree’s in a high wind. “All I’m saying is give budding a chance sometime, that’s all.”
Laxah rolled her eyes but said nothing more. She and Need exchanged a glance which seemed to say, Here we go again… It gave Lan’ara the idea that the Cytovian captain had said these things many times before to his crew and they pretty much ignored him.
“Anyway, it’s nice to have a new set of hands helping with the cooking,” Psoas remarked, stretching his long torso across the table so he could look more easily at Lan’ara. “We look forward to seeing what kind of sweets you make.”
“Psoas has a terrible sweet-tooth,” Laxah remarked. “He can eat as many sweets as he wants and never gain an ounce.”
“Guilty!” Psoas grinned at her and bobbed his head, his neck stretching comically with the gesture. “If you can make small cakes you’ll be my new favorite person.”
“We did have a special class in making sweet treats at the academy,” Lan’ara told him. “Let me know if you have a special recipe you want me to use. Otherwise, I’ll see what I can whip up myself.”
Psoas’s pink eyes glowed with pleasure.
“I’ll take you up on that! I haven’t had decent small cakes in ages—not since I left my home world. But I do still have my mater’s recipe. I’ll give you a copy of it.”
“I’ll be pleased to make them for you,” Lan’ara promised. It couldn’t hurt to make friends with as many people as she could aboard the ship, she reasoned. And besides, she genuinely liked baking and cooking for people, just as she had enjoyed making little treats for her four brothers before she’d had to leave home.
“If you’re going to make small cakes for Psoas, what about making us a batch of jim-jams?” Kreeva, the female half of the Duplo asked.
“Oh, jim-jams—I love jim-jams!” Krax, the male half exclaimed.
“I know,” Kreeva said dryly. “It’s one of the few things we agree on.”
“That’s not true!” Krax exclaimed.
“Is too.” Kreeva glared at him.
“Don’t start arguing again, you two,” Need growled. “I’m sure the girl will be happy to make your Goddess-damned jim-jams as long as we have the ingredients on board.”