“Yes,” Suon said enthusiastically. “Twenty-third century classical metal. Do you have a favorite composer?”

Apollonia thought a minute. “I like that one guy who remixes dog barks into parodies of songs. Dr. Woof, I think?”

Suon stared at her blankly for a second, then burst into laughter.

Kiseleva didn’t even crack a smile.

“Hey!” a new voice called from the direction of the entrance. “What do you think?” Pirra chirped excitedly, coming closer.

She was wearing a black sweater dress with v-shaped stripes in red, yellow, and green. She appeared to have donned a wig of human-like hair over her normal green feathers, which was pulled up into a bun behind her head. A black beret slouched off to one side, and a cigar seemed to have been attached just next to her small mouth to give the appearance of it being clenched in non-existent lips – though the shape of lips had been made in a blood-red lipstick.

She also held a rather menacing-looking machine gun, waving it in the air with wild abandon.

“Give me all your paper notes!” she said, pulling the trigger. A series of pops and bangs emanated from the barrel of the gun. It flashed brightly, but was, it seemed, just a prop.

She twirled, her skirt spinning nicely around her, though the hat was odd on her head, with its different proportions than a human’s.

“I look the part, don’t I?” she asked, seeming very pleased.

“Nice one, Commander,” Suon said. “Is Alexander going to be Clyde?”

“Who’s Clyde?” Apollonia asked. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Bonnie, of course!” Pirra replied. “You know, the famous criminal?”

“Uhhh . . .” Apollonia had no idea who that was. “Remind me?”

Pirra looked crestfallen. “She was a hardcore robber from a country called United America States, over nine hundred years ago!”

Y lowered his book somewhat. “I know of her,” he said. “Bonnie Elizabeth Parker. One of the famous criminal duo from the so-called Barrow Gang. Along with her paramour Clyde Barrow, they caused a rather vicious streak of murder and theft through the area known as the ‘American Heartland’. The country was formally known as the ‘United States of America’, incidentally.”

“Right!” Pirra said.

Y tilted his head. “Have you considered that Bonnie Elizabeth Parker was a figure both tragic and highly immoral in her actions?”

Pirra waved that away. “Look, she was badass and that’s enough. Most of human history doesn’t have a lot of great couples where the woman was as involved in the action. And Sky knows I’m not going to be the backseat in this duo.”

Y leaned closer. “I note several historical inaccuracies in your depiction. Bonnie Elizabeth Parker, for instance, did not actually smoke cigars – that idea was taken from a single photograph that was likely done for jest. Also, as iconic as the Thompson submachine gun is for the era in question, I do not believe that she or the Barrow gang ever actually used one – instead preferring a BAR rifle, pump-action shotguns, or handguns-“

“Shush-shush-shush!” Pirra replied holding up a hand. “That’s not important.”

“Dessei have claws?” Apollonia asked, leaning forward in curiosity as she saw Pirra’s bare hand up close for the first time.

For a moment Pirra looked surprised, but then seemed pleased, if anything.

“Oh, yes,” she said. She reached out, touching Apollonia’s arm, making her jump slightly. The tips of Pirra’s fingers were cold and hard, but not sharp.

“Humans have their nails, but the ends of our fingers form calcified tips that can get very sharp. We trim and buff them down nowadays – it’s just civilized. Plus it makes fine manipulation easier.”

Apollonia wasn’t sure if that was awesome or creepy.

“I remember once when Alexander got upset because I was using his toothbrush to buff them . . .” Pirra said, her voice almost wistful. “It was so cute. I mean, it was early on in our relationship, there were still misunderstandings. And it’s not like I can transfer any diseases to him.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Ew,” the nebbishy man next to Apollonia said, speaking for the first time.

Pirra glared at him. Suon looked amused for a moment but then forced himself to look serious again.

“Tred, better watch yourself,” he said. “Bonnie’s a wanted criminal.”

“I’m not judging!” Tred said quickly, flushing. “I just wouldn’t want my toothbrush touching anything other than my teeth . . .”

Pirra seemed annoyed still, and Apollonia cleared her throat. “I’ve never seen an alien dress up like a human before. A lot of hookers back on Hell Rock would sometimes dress up as Sepht on Darkeve, though.” She glanced at Pirra, feeling awkward adding the last part. “Or Dessei. But there really seemed to be a special preference for Sepht. I never got it.”

Tred shifted. “Some people really like Sepht . . . like in an intimate way. They’re kind of weirdos.”

Pirra’s wig and hat shifted on her head. Apollonia was alarmed until she realized the Dessei’s crest was rising from beneath them. “It’s not necessarily weird to be attracted to other species! Or to dress up like them. We’re all sapient beings.”

Apollonia felt a flush in her cheeks as she realized she’d said something rude. Tred recoiled back in his seat at his own rebuke and spoke quickly. “No, no, of course it’s not weird! I just mean . . . these people are a little, you know, fetishistic about Sepht. And it’s just not a good idea with them in particular.”

Apollonia wasn’t sure if she should apologize, but Pirra seemed focused on Tred now. The last thing he had said had caught her curiosity as well. “Why is it a bad idea with Sepht?” she asked.

Tred seemed even more nervous, going rather pale. “It’s just . . . um, there’s a lot of reasons. I mean, some men get hung up on the fact that they’re like 95% female, but ignore a lot of the . . .” He trailed off, looking at Pirra, who seemed to have a very flinty look in her eyes. “. . . warning signs. Like aggression. When they do take to a male, they can get very possessive and hostile towards others.”

“That is a very broad generalization, and not entirely true,” Pirra said.

“I know it’s a generalization, but it’s in the official documentation from the Sepht government discouraging relationships!” Tred said quickly.

Kiseleva’s eyebrow arched and Suon cleared his throat. “That’s not exactly standard reading . . . why were you looking into that?”

Tred’s face turned nearly white.

“Go on,” Apollonia said, feeling kind of annoyed at the others. “I’m actually curious to hear more.”

Tred was awkwardly silent for a few more moments. “B-besides that, there’s the issue of their skin secretions . . . they irritate human skin. I hear it can cause a rash even on regular skin, but if it gets on a mucus membrane it’s even worse-“

Apollonia threw up her hands. “Oh, gross, okay! La la la, I’m not listening anymore, I’m not old enough to be getting into hearing about mucus membranes!”

Tred looked shocked anew. “Wait, really? You are an adult, right?”

All eyes at the table moved to her.

She felt herself blush. “Yes! I was joking, I’m 28!”

“She is 22,” Y said.

Shock went across the faces of the group.

“I’m older than that!” Apollonia said.

“Her age is listed as 28 in her profile,” Pirra noted.

“It is incorrect,” Y said. “Though we took Apollonia’s word for it initially, for medical reasons I was required to seek a more precise date. I deduced the truth rather recently, though I was not certain when to bring it up. Partially this discrepancy is because of the calendar used in the Tedian system. Due to the extreme distance of New Vitriol from its parent star, one orbit takes 60,000 Earth years. Thus a solar calendar is useless . . .”

Apollonia frowned. “Calendar? What’s that?”

Tred tilted his head. “A calendar?”

“Yeah,” Apollonia replied. “The spice?”

“What?” Tred asked.

Suon spoke. “Do you mean coriander?”

“What? Y?” Apollonia asked, thoroughly confused and looking at the doctor.

“Why?” Tred asked.

Y gestured. “She means me, based on context.”

“Corrander!” Apollonia suddenly snapped, as if something had finally clicked.

“The spice?” Tred asked.

“No, a corrander!” Apollonia said in exasperation. “For telling the days!”

“You mean a calendar?” Suon asked.

There was an awkward silence.

“Don’t look at me,” Pirra said with a shrug. “My people don’t even use a calendar.”

“Well, who is on first?” Y asked, sounding very pleased.

Tred seemed ready to break down. “What?”

“It is not important,” Y said with a wave of his hand. “But it seems that there is a translator oversight here. Nor, the dating system of your home is named the ‘corrander’ for Ted Corran. He created an original system – that humans call in standard universal english a ‘calendar’. There is also a spice called ‘coriander’.

Apple heard his words, but she felt a growing helplessness. “I can barely tell some of those apart!”

“Simply ear training!” Y said happily. “But the fact of the matter is that according to your biological markers you are closer to 22 years of age rather than 28. Perhaps a surprising difference, but there are reasons. Though, it should be noted that a difficulty in biologically aging you is to be expected. Your DNA is heavily raddled by ancestral exposure to cosmic rays. As a result, your development may differ slightly from other human strains. It has been recorded that some strains of humanity mature more rapidly, physically speaking, as an adaptation to the rigors of space travel.”

Apollonia sat back heavily. “Oh.”

“Does her . . . corrander not keep time the same as the standard human calendar?” Pirra asked Y.

“Oh, it certainly does not. Yet it still does not even quite explain the discrepancy here! The corrander has a shorter year than the calendar, so by its reckoning Apollonia is 25.”

Frowning, Apollonia’s eyes unfocused, and she started counting on her fingers. “. . . That could be right,” she muttered. “I didn’t really always track the year that well . . . and I did tack a few on awhile back for reasons.”

“Why is the corrander shorter?” Tred asked. “Like, what is it tied to?”

“It was all an invention of Ted Corran, based upon his spiritual beliefs rather than anything concrete,” Y said. “Though I suspect its purpose was to justify younger marriages, as is a common practice in many cults.”

“Disgusting,” Kiseleva noted.