Aboard the Dauntless, it's a very special day. The end of the journey. They finally had made it.

The capital of the Galactic Federation, and the seat of power of the Galactic Council, the city world of Centris. Deep within the ship, the special forces teams are all in their combat gear, waiting for shit to hit the fan in some way. The briefing screens in their ready rooms however, have all been tuned to a local news network.

Snacks had been prepared, and cans of pop handed out. If all went according to plan, this should be a good show.

There's a quick jingle, then the title ‘Centris Station 5 The Galaxy’s Greatest News’ flies across the hologram in luminescent silver, the image changes to a greenish silver skinned alien with large pitch black eyes and a single antenna sticking upwards, the tip of the antenna glows bright yellow. She was standing with a good view of a massive landing pad, and behind that, all any of the watching special forces personnel could see was city and more city, all the way out to the horizon.

"That's a Lutrin? They're just green skinned chicks with an antenna!" Calls one man, somewhere behind Jerry.

"Can it! It's starting!" Comes back just as fast from another.

“Hello! This is Shimmer Nova here on the beautiful Centris Capital Spire where The Dauntless, an ambassadorial ship shrouded in mystery is coming in for a landing! Hailing from deep inside Cruel Space the people of this ship have had a harrowing journey, multiple pirate attacks and even the infamous Chaining have all left their mark on this beast of a vessel. Yet through it all the men crewing this ship have stayed firm and strong.” She says into her microphone.

The view switches to her side and she turns to face the camera as The Dauntless is slowly coming down behind her. “That’s right. I said men.” She says before leaning to her left as half the screen is taken up by an image of Admiral Cistern standing at attention. “According to reports this species, a classic Bipedal Mammal Omnivore, are truly unusual in their birth rates and this ship reflects it. It’s crewed almost exclusively by men.”

“We have here an image of the stalwart champion serving as both commanding officer and chief ambassador, one Admiral Garfield Cistern and according to the records they’ve shared with us he’s a lifelong military man with trouble at home. This poor man has been abandoned by his only wife and is once again a bachelor with no one to comfort him on a harrowing journey further than he ever dreamed possible. Apparently she also took the children with her and a great deal of his personal fortune, a tale of tragedy and woe apparently common in the most appropriately named Cruel Space. But don’t think it’s all doom and gloom. We’ve got some lightspeed action as well! While The Dauntless was victimized by The Chaining it turned out that the prize was too hot to handle and not only has the infamous vessel’s crew been cut down by the very man they stole, but the ship itself was hijacked and renamed The Chainbreaker after the captured soldier, one Gregory Schmidt, successfully led a slave revolt-"

Isabella Ramos, near the front next to Johnny, tosses some popcorn at the screen. "Get to the point, damn it! Sweet fuck, this gal just loves the sound of her own voice."

A few more commandos join her in razzing the reporter, but quickly stop as the Dauntless starts to come into view.

"There we are boys, our big TV debut." Chuckles one man.

“I for one welcome our new handsome heroes here into the galaxy at large! Hopefully they’ll consider sweeping some of my sisters off their feet. Poor girls aren’t as lucky as their celebrity sister.”

Nova preens in front of the camera as The Dauntless lands with a minor boom. No doubt someone deep inside the ship is getting dragged over the coals for that one.

“Oh! And here comes the Speaker of the Council herself, Lady Ticanped, a word for our viewers please?” Nova gushes rushing up to what looks like a cross between a peacock and a woman.

"...Alright, I'm stumped on that one. I guess I knew bird-like aliens were a thing, but seriously. What even? Peacocks are male! Why doesn't she have drab feathers?"

Isabella tosses some popcorn over her shoulder and hits the complainer with unerring accuracy.

"Don't apply Earth logic to this crazy bullshit, you're just gonna break your tiny excuse for a brain." Isabella gestures at the screen. "Really, the impressive part is just how painfully smug that perra is. Jesus. Just look at her."

Jerry sets his mug down hard. "Next person to talk gets hog tied and gagged till the end of the show."

The briefing room quickly settles down, everyone shifting around to ensure they've got a good view as one of the most important people in the galaxy starts to speak.

“This is our first formal contact, little reporter. We must set aside our expectations and let this new race shine through as best they are able.” Lady Ticanped gently notes before looking out above the silver hued alien to the chrome covered Dauntless.

The central door opens and a massive ramp extends downwards. Then a huge stomp echoes out. Followed by another, and another. The fourth reveals a line of men in stark white dress uniforms. Their every second step is a massive stomp in unison as they march out fifty men across, rifles clearly visible as they stomp down looking for all the world like an invading army.

The reporter is utterly flabbergasted and fails to make any commentary as thousands of troops march out of The Dauntless before stopping on a single massive stomp less than five meters away. Then the massive column seamlessly splits into two groups.

It’s only then that The Admiral appears, flanked by two honor guards and marching at a fast clip down the ramp. Every soldier he passes snaps off a salute that stays up until he leaves them in his wake before finally stomping to a stop some two meters from Lady Ticanped.

“Lady Ticanped, Speaker of the Galactic Federation Council?”

He asks in flawless Galactic Trade. Left hand on the hilt of a ceremonial saber and the medals gleaming on his chest like stars, backlit by the light shining off The Dauntless and with the rows upon rows of soldiers behind him he looks like he’s nothing less than the living embodiment of modern war.

“Yes, and you are Admiral Garfield Cistern, representative of Humanity and Admiral of the Earth Defence Fleets?”

Lady Ticanped asks slowly, somewhat off balance by the sheer presence of the man, she can see clean over his head, but the sensation of being at the foot of a giant clearly has her off balance.

“Yes I am ma’am. I am also the Admiral of the Earth Foreign Legion as well. A small fleet of mercenary vessels we have hired to help ease our transition into a galactic people.” Admiral Cistern says before turning around. “Excuse me for a moment. COMPANY! AT EASE!” He barks and the entire formation shifts as one. “That’s better. Now are there any questions before we get to our negotiations proper?” He asks, turning back in a smooth motion.

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“Hello! I’m Shimmer Nova from Centris Station Five Galactic News, how many men do you have?!”

“In formation right now we have exactly two thousand men. As you’ve no doubt noticed this formation is wider at the front at fifty men across and forty men long. There are over four thousand additional personnel on The Dauntless currently, the vast majority of them men. Does that suffice, Miss Nova?”

“You just... wait... Dear goddess! You’ve increased the male population on Centris by fifteen percent!” Nova gasps in shock.

“Really? I would have expected a substantially larger number among the local populace.”

“Technically, Dear Admiral, the embassies to the representatives count as belonging to the world in question, and many of the larger corporations maintain their main offices in orbit around the world to prevent... overcrowding.” Lady Ticanped offers and he nods.

“And those would be where the husbands of such important individuals are housed I assume.”

“You assume correctly. Now as much as I would adore continuing in the presence of this entire, fascinating procession. They are rather numerous for your official entrance into the chamber of debate and discussions.”

“I understand. Excuse me for a moment.” He says turning on his heel and marching away past his bodyguards and a previously unseen man who had been trailing the trio. “COMPANY! ATTENTION!” He bellows and two thousand boots slam into the ground next to their respective twins. “FALL OUT!” He roars and they turn as one, pick up their rifles and march back onto the ship. When the last line of men crosses the final threshold the ramp retracts before the massive chrome doors close. The Admiral turns on his heel and marches back up to Lady Ticanped.

“I trust that will suffice.” He says holding his left hand out to the side, the fourth man who had gone largely unseen slinks up behind him and places a cigar in his hand which he sniffs before sticking between his teeth. The elderly yet formally attired servant then lights the cigar and The Admiral takes a deep puff of it. “Thank you Philip.”

“Of course sir.”

Philip replies before vanishing back behind the bodyguards as a steady stream of smoke is exhaled from The Admiral’s nostrils and he smiles. He’s got the entire Galaxy’s undivided attention and knows it.

“Now then, shall we?” The Admiral asks, gesturing with his cigar. Nova is staring directly at him in shock and awe before noticing that the camera is still rolling.

“Commercials. Cut to commercials!” She orders and the feed indeed cuts to commercial. Around the Galaxy and across the Dauntless well over a dozen different briefing rooms explode in cheers. It needed some improv but had gone off flawlessly.

Jerry chuckles and kicks his boots back. "Lady, gentlemen, congratulations. We are now some of the first human beings to set down on another world. I'd say the soil of another world but this city scale planet thing is a mind bender."

"Yeah, that cityscape was insane! The galactic wiki equivalent says some of the spires are big enough that they hold literal billions of people."

That got the entire room's attention in a hurry.

"Billions with a B?"

"Billions with a B."

"Fuck... So like. There could be a spire, which is basically a vertically integrated city within a city, with a larger population than our entire species?"

"Not could, there almost certainly is. We just have to check the census data to confirm it."

The commando sits back for a second. "Fuck. That crazy bullshit with the arrangement systems is starting to make a little bit more sense I guess."

"Not enough sense to merit going a damn thousand light years out of our way!"

Isabella looks over the back of her chair.

"We can always send you back Davis, get you a hundred girl strong harem, lock your ass up in an ivory tower. Never have to wipe your own ass again because you'll be wrapped up in foam till you die."

"I think I'd go insane before that. Poor bastards of the galaxy. Nothing to strive for, nothing to work for, challenging yourself consists of finding the will not to go crazy, and if you challenge any of the limits your hundred damn mothers and then your hundred damn wives put on you, they say you're the one who's got... What was it? Male obsession? Obsession my ass. More like a cry for help!"

Jerry nods. "Let's not judge the locals too harshly folks. Things are the way they are for a reason. Admittedly, an arrangement system having it enshrined in law that any male who doesn't have a hundred wives is to be straight up imprisoned, then sent through a matchmaking process to get one hundred wives... that's a bit much for me. Even if we accept marriage is a very different animal out here. I wouldn't worry too much about their laws either... I suspect the Admiral and the weasels in Intel already have a plan to deal with that, along with many other things. Things we all need to be ready to assist with. So make sure you're staying up on your axiom training."

Andryiv, a Spetsnaz operator and master gunsmith from Ukraine sticks a hand up.

"Commander, there is more than we can learn in one lifetime about axiom I am thinking. There is a report now on system about reinforcement runes. Lady Nalsha told us about brands, da? Tattoos with... Baba Yaga's own witchcraft put into them? There is such things for inanimate objects as well. To make them wear less, and function more smoothly. To make armor stronger and more enduring... but there is risks when exposed to Null."

Jerry lifts an eyebrow. "Sounds like we need to get those worked into our guns potentially, and armor. Hell anything that isn't going back to Cruel Space. After a lot of testing. Good find Andryiv, I'll put a requisition in with Cistern's office to bring specialists in to teach our armorers what's up, then we can do some testing and see if some of our guns should be modified. Till then you all still better be maintaining your weapons daily or Top will have your hides for boots! Considering the sheer scale of Centris... I'm expecting we're gonna have a whole hell of a lot to do..."

"And that's just one world!" Johnny notes. "Space is... big. Like. I understood in theory but I was reading more about galactic species and I just... there's so many, and they all have their own languages, cultures, religions, histories and I... I dunno boss, it's weird. I suppose I kinda thought we'd be special in some way, but there's so much... everything out here! Then you get into synthetic people and my brain starts to break."

"Hmmph." Isabella snorts, clearly annoyed. "I'm still pissed that I can't actually gripe about synthetic bodies, robot girls, and they are girls, having tits. I mean for one robots can conceive, because of that wacky Gravidism religion that's all about getting MILF'd up and some techno babble I don't have the college degree to understand. To think though, the closest they can get to true AI is a synthetic mind, which can only be made from a copy or an upload of a normal being's mind, and their bodies, and they do need bodies, need to resemble their original form or their 'parent' form's body or they get what amounts to massive body dysphoria. Thus, robot chicas are as stacked as everyone else. Like. The fuck? Shit's enough to give a girl a complex."

Davis sits back up. "You guys ain't seen shit yet if you're still wigging out over normal sized synths. Hell we have a car that transforms into a giant robot rabbit woman that can shatter steel with a supersonic scream at the right frequency aboard! You know, the gal some of the EFL boys rescued?" He stops for a second. "Who also has massive tits. Because of course she does. I don't know what a Phosa is supposed to look like, but I'm very confused that there's apparently multiple contenders for 'alien that is a literal playboy bunny'."

"Don't you be mean to Kati Downshift or half the crew's gonna beat you to death." Calls Andryiv, already back in his communicator reading through something.

"I wouldn't! The kid's too sweet for one, and I really don't want to see her mad for two. Besides the point though! When I was off the Dauntless last pulling security for one of the trading runs the Admiral had us do to drum up some credits? I ran into some really interesting Xenos. First off I saw one of those Dzedin. Giger eat your heart out. Dude had sexual hang ups, but giving one of the Aliens a porn star bod? Wild. All there though, plush lips, thick curves, six limbs, long tail with a damn machete on the end... and no eyes. Wish we could ask Mistress Nalsha how that shit works. She was out walking her pet facehugger, which is called a Purriz and is a popular pet among their people."

Davis is briefly pelted with calls of bullshit from all corners of the room.

"Look it up! I swear it's true! I had to check myself to make sure I hadn’t been dosed with hallucinogens. Anyway, I think the other weird one was even better. An alien called a Gravia. Get this. Pure axiom energy being. One of the guys from 2nd Squadron described her as a 'Non-Euclidian bimbo' and she said that worked for a description! Apparently parts of the Gravidist faith got together and made a mathematical proof of their faith, and beliefs. Then they pumped a shitload of axiom into it and created a race of sentient axiom math equations. That's the Gravia! Honestly you have to meet one to vaguely understand them, they're, uh. Over the top. Even by galactic standards they're just something else. Genius level IQ in a... very hard to process but very stacked body. Like. Galactic curves have to be seen to be believed and Gravia are even more stacked."

"So when's the wedding?" Johnny calls.

The commando gets a guilty look.

"First date's set for when we finally get a little liberty. She was apparently en route to Centris. So y'know. Kinda figured it was a good sign."

Jerry rubs his face slowly. "Great now even math has tits. What in the hell is wrong with this galaxy?"