“There’s still one last matter to discuss,” Kaz said.

They'd spent hours poring over the team's discoveries, letting even the most junior crewmembers weigh in. This open approach seemed to irk Honorary-Lieutenant Snikers endlessly, which Agozi found deliciously amusing.

“We salvaged data from the alien mainframe prior to the ship’s implosion,” Kaz said. “Following extensive analysis, Master-Engineer Kesto came across what he believes to be slipspace coordinates.” His tone became serious. “It’s time we decide what to do with them.”

Concerned mumblings once again permeated.

“Apologies for the interruption…” In the corner stood a Mevik security officer, who seemed troubled. “You're not seriously considering jumping using these coordinates, are you?”

The room's gaze fixed on Kaz, who after a brief silence, offered his response.

“That’s what we’re here to debate.”

“Not sure what the big deal is,” said another member of Mevik security. “We jump into slipspace all the time. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

The first Mevik gave the second one a disapproving look.

“The ship is lost in space forever or we all die horribly,” he replied derisively. “Or both.”

Everyone looked much queasier suddenly.

This included Agozi, who felt a rare twinge of apprehension, the grim possibility of being lost in the vastness of space giving her pause.

“It’s true there are risks involved,” Kaz said eventually. “But that’s true for any mission. You represent our brightest and most devoted. If you want to share your input on how to proceed, now’s the time.”

The knee-jerk responses arrived instantly.

“Absurd!” said one attendee, a Mevik.

“Ridiculous! Madness!” said another, a Prol.

The majority echoed the sentiment.

*****

Kaz's whiskers gave a subtle twitch, though not from disappointment. In fact, he’d been hoping for this exact reaction.

Snikers had already been informed of the alien coordinates prior to the meeting, and in typical Snikers fashion, had opted to downplay the risk. Kaz hoped a popular backslash would dissuade him. The former didn’t enjoy immunity from consequences despite his authority.

And it was not as though the danger they faced was illusory.

Safe passage through slipspace required deliberate manipulation of its parameters. Using the alien coordinates, if they could even be termed as such, would be an act of unparalleled folly. Skeptical of Snikers' judgment though he was, Kaz doubted even he would be foolish enough to imperil the crew, and by association, himself. The palpable disapproval now filling the room would surely give him pause.

Snikers signaled to Kaz to get out of the way.

“Please, for the sake of civilized civility—"

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“’Civilized civility’?” Agozi interrupted mockingly. “Isn’t that just a bit redundant?”

Snikers ignored her.

“I must insist this loutish squabbling be ended!” He sounded more authoritative than usual, but his tone remained tranquil still. “Your consternation is most understandable, and your concerns have been noted. But I assure you, my dear commoners—"

“No one here is a ‘commoner’,” Agozi interrupted, clearly peeved by the sanctimonious phrasing. “This room's filled with the best of the best from every race.”

Snikers glanced at Agozi with disapproval, then quickly turned away.

“Ah, yes... indeed...” he remarked with a disdainful flair. “But one can scarcely be impressed when one is working with such unpredictable genetic stock.”

Kaz took note of Agozi's agitated stance. Though he withheld comment, he maintained a watchful gaze. His patience for her emotional outbursts was notably thin given the gravity of the current circumstances.

“Even the most illustrious artisan cannot transmute bronze into pure gold…” Snikers gave Agozi another judgmental glance, but same as last time, broke it quickly. “A fact made abundantly clear by your egregiously uncouth demeanor.”

Her whiskers shaking rapidly, Agozi bared a few of her teeth by curling her upper lip, an act which even other Mevik would’ve found rude.

Some of Kaz's fingers clenched involuntarily. He didn't like what he was witnessing.

Please don’t embarrass yourself.

Snikers didn't lose his calm demeanor. He talked to her in the smug voice he was known for.

“Please, I assure you there is no need for that look, my dear child. Nor is it appropria—”

“I’m not a child!” Agozi barked at him.

Kaz’s whiskers jerked wildly in an expression of shock and disappointment. It was this exact scenario that he'd hoped to avoid.

The abrupt change in Agozi's tone had the room staring at her in disbelief. They looked at her as though she'd lost her senses. Even Snikers, who rarely exhibited much emotion besides his stereotypical smugness, momentarily lost his cool.

A tense pause filled the room.

Snikers eventually broke the stillness.

“If the dear Lieutenant possesses no further valuable insights, I’m afraid I must request she remain absent from this discussion.” He didn’t sound angry exactly, but this was probably just a byproduct of his restraint. The undercurrent of irritation was clear.

Kaz opted to intervene before Agozi could embarrass herself further.

“The Lieutenant's perspective has been duly noted,” he said. “It is imperative we continue.”

“But—”

Kaz gave her a warning glance.

Agozi sighed.

“Whatever.”

Snikers resumed where he’d left off.

“This situation is most assuredly under control,” he said. “In absolutely no shape or form do these wondrous developments pose any danger to the ship and its valued sentient resources…”

Agozi visibly winced, her face and posture radiating disgust, but she said nothing.

“Should the crew find itself burdened by clouds of uncertainty, thus denying it the prerequisite mental tools for a wise conclusion, then I shall reach one on its behalf.”

“Oh, we’re all good then,” Agozi said with passive-aggressive tone.

Kaz gave her another cautionary look, causing her to remain silent once more.

But the prevailing sentiment in the room suggested that Agozi had a point. The notion was met with a palpable lack of enthusiasm from those assembled.

“What of the risk?” asked a disgruntled attendee.

“What if the coordinates don’t work?” asked another.

“And where do they even take us?” said a third.

A silent smirk formed within Kaz. This was the reaction he'd been hoping for.

The questions brushed against Snikers' patience as if posed out of ignorance.

“Nonsensical misgivings,” he said dismissively, like the premise was self-evidently absurd. He looked at Master-Engineer Kesto. “It is my understanding they eclipse us technologically with respect to ship crafting?”

“In certain respects, but—”

“Then clearly, we have nothing to worry about.”

Kaz felt a weight in his stomach, with his whiskers giving a twitch and his lips turning up just a bit.

“Let us not squander precious time by wallowing in petty ambivalence,” Snikers said. “I am certain these coordinates are as reliable and safe as the race that conceived of them.”

*****

Kaz had gravely miscalculated the depth of Snikers's egotism and self-assuredness. Despite his earnest efforts to dissuade him by highlighting the myriad risks and practical impediments, the latter remained adamant in his decision.

On a more positive note, Kaz had been granted the authority to inform the crew of the unfolding situation. Even Snikers, in his wisdom or lack thereof, acknowledged that maintaining eternal secrecy was unsustainable, particularly with the imminent prospect of first contact with the enigmatic alien race.