For a newly-conscious organism that is the only organic survivor aboard a crippled spaceship, speeding uncontrollably into interstellar space, far from inhabited territories or trade lanes, we are surprisingly relaxed.

We spend our time aboard the Dhrahugon peacefully, exploring the ship and familiarising ourselves with its many features and oddities. On the bridge we sit in the commander's chair, marvelling at huge data projections and playing with any virtual controls that remain functional. We learn interesting things about local stellar space and its inhabitants from the polyhedral Mixcycli data buddy device we’ve decided to call Buddy, and also from the Ghutarn ship itself, which is less intelligent than Buddy, but also less annoying.

Sometimes we like to go to the crew lounge, which has big couches where we can spread all our arms out, and holographic projectors that Buddy adjusts to display 2-dimensional images. We spend hours in there watching Earth broadcast media that was among the data dumped into Buddy before we fled the stricken Mixcycli ship, the Shaxixith’th. The Dhrahugon has a range of Ghutarn dramas we could watch as well, but the Ghutarn seem like a terribly violent species, and the plots are rather thin.

When we ask Buddy why it has no Mixcycli media from its own home ship it tells us that entertainment wasn't included in the data-dump. Apparently Earth-media counts as research for the Mixcycli, so we decide to research a bit about Earth ourselves. We learn many fascinating things we didn't know about the sea, and also about the bipedal humans who dominate the plant – like the fact that they are the only audio-visual drama-producing species on the whole globe.

Now that Earth is behind us, we also decide to research space. Buddy has lots of data on this subject, but once of the more extensive categories concerning space exploration is that of Star Trek. We enjoy the episodic nature of this subject’s entries, and find it to be a mixture of thrilling, informative and confusing.

It takes us a while, and a lot of help from Buddy, to determine that there are different levels of truth to stories – like factual, pseudo-factual, fictional, and pseudo-fictional. We’re a little disappointed when we realise most Star Trek episodes are fictional, but feel better when we understand that our own adventures have been, and will be, mostly factual, and therefore more real than Star Trek.

We think.

We also like exploring Engineering, which is a more interactive and interesting environment than most places aboard, and where we can climb over stuff, and poke and prod and fiddle with pieces of instrumentation under the guidance of Buddy. The engines themselves were crippled in a last desperate act by the former commander, and are beyond our ability to repair, but are still quite interesting, even if we don't really understand how anything works.

The engineering section had been exposed to space after the sabotage, but the ship has since resealed it and re-pressurised the relevant sections. Upon hearing that this kind of environmental adjustment is possible, we ask the Dhrahugon to seal off the former-commander's personal cabin and fill it with water from the ship’s environmental and hygiene systems, and then to add minerals and ionic compounds from the crew’s nutrition reserves until it matches the data Buddy has of Earth’s oceanic composition.

This small enclosed sea is where we spent most of our time. We float and swim and jet about, juggle, arrange and rearrange the various items we've collected into pleasing configurations. It seems that whatever the Mixcycli did to us has given us the ability to live comfortably in a number of gaseous environments, such as that on Earth, or aboard the Mixcycli and Ghutarn ships – but none of them compare to the pleasure of immersion in seawater.

We are bobbing around at the bottom of our cabin during one day-cycle, thinking about interesting things, like how 1 ‘minute’ is the same as [74] ‘seconds’, but also [3.5] ‘jhuhucs’, and [6.4] ‘t-ti’ as well, and about how our modified neural architecture is able to estimate duration and convert between all these units without us asking it to, and further wondering what all that means – when an alarm goes off.

We know it’s an alarm because we say, ‘What’s that noise?’, and Buddy – who we’ve left in a corner – tells us.

‘Information:’, it says, as it always does before providing information. ‘A proximity alarm is sounding.’

We look about the flooded cabin, and see no predators. ‘Something is close to… the ship?’ we guess.

‘Affirmative. Information: A privately registered craft is approaching the Dhrahugon.’

This sounds interesting, so Stealy grabs Buddy and we jet to the surface of the water, where we can leave the cabin via a small ventilation duct.

Upon exiting the shaft we make our way down an improvised ladder to where one of the ship's service drones, retasked to be our faithful steed, awaits.

'To the bridge!' we tell it, as Pokey unnecessarily points the way, and the drone lurches under us and carries us speedily down the gloomy corridors of the ship.

Upon entering the bridge it halts before the commander's seat, and we pull ourselves across into it.

'Report,' we tell the ship.

A wide projection fills the air before us. We've learned how to interpret this, and can see the representation of another ship on an intercept course. This new vessel is vaguely triangular, a bit like a stingray, with the pointy end at the front.

'Approaching vessel is privately-registered, modified Flare-class general utility vehicle with autonomous/obedient/spectator sentience, the Stony Tide. Vessel is signalling as responding to our short-range distress beacon.'

'How long before it gets here?'

'Intercept in four minutes.'

'Anything to add, Buddy?' we ask the more knowledgeable Mixcycli-designed data device.

'Information:’, Buddy says. ‘Interpretation of short-range sensor data suggests that – Speculation: the Stony Tide has been modified to shield ambient and drive emissions. Additional information: The Stony Tide has been modified to carry particle-beam and kinetic weapons, in addition to torpedoes. Speculation: the Stony Tide is a vessel used for smuggling and/or piracy.'

'Huh. It looks smaller than this ship. Are we in danger?'

'Speculation: Negative. The Dhrahugon is fully capable of defeating the Stony Tide in ship-to-ship combat, despite current engine status.'

'We are being hailed,' the ship announces.

We push ourselves up straighter in the commander's chair – which was clearly not designed for an octopus but for the larger bipedal Ghutarn species – and try to look imposing, like a human Starfleet captain does. 'Put them through.'

The intercept projection disappears, and is replaced with the head and shoulders of a creature we've never seen before.

The shoulders are sharp humps, while the head is a branching structure that looks like coral, bifurcating from a thick trunk again and again out to very slender tips. In the truck part of the neck are two slot-like eyes. Jyondon is the word that comes to us to describe this being.

'This is Captain Hawu of the independent vessel Stony Tide,' it says in the language Buddy refers to as ‘Local Standard’. 'We are responding to your distress beacon.'

'And we are Commander Saturday Gazette of the Dhrahugon,' we tell the Jyondon, ‘and also briefly Former Captain Saturday Gazette of the Shaxixith'th. Thank you for responding, Captain.'

The Jyondon seems to check something out of view. 'What is your current status, Commander?'

'We are without engines or navigational ability. But most of our other functions are okay.'

'Your ident states that the Dhrahugon is a Ghutarn craft. It does not look of Ghutarn design. You are not Ghutarn.'

'No,' we agree.

'Where are the original crew? Are they aboard?'

'It's a long story and no, we are the only crew.'

'How many of you are there?'

'One.'

The coral-like being inclines its head. 'But you said "we".'

'Yes, we are the only crew.'

'But there is only one of you?'

'Correct.'

'I see. Well, the legitimacy of your claim to the command of the Dhrahugon is in doubt, Commander.'

Fighty swings through the air as we remember how we defeated the previous commander in battle, then uncoils so Cheeky can high-one it. 'We never claimed it to be legitimate. But the ship itself recognises our command.'

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The tips of the branching structure ruffle slightly.

'I understand. If you wish for our assistance you must agree to our terms.'

'Please state them.'

'We cannot repair your engines. Therefore you must relinquish the Dhrahugon to us. You will send us its current inventory; we will board it, take what we wish from its stores, armoury and holdings, and tag the remainder with our claim for later salvage. You will relinquish any expected share of salvage proceeds in exchange for passage aboard our vessel to the port of your choosing within the local compact-defined sector of space.'

'Your offer sounds reasonable, Captain,’ we say, even though we don’t fully understand all of it. 'We accept.'

The captain's frondy tips rustle again. 'Please send us the inventory, and prepare for three visitors by shuttle.'

The projection blinks off.

'Well?' we ask Buddy.

'Insufficient context to question.'

'What do you think?'

'Insufficient context to question.'

Fighty bops the data buddy in annoyance. 'Please tell us about Captain Hawu, who we just talked to.'

'Information: Captain Hawu is a Jyondon; a quadrupedal species with a minor hegemonic empire towards the centre of the galaxy. There is no social or professional data on this individual in currently-accessible libraries.'

'Is that unusual?'

'Negative. Information: Only high-profile, so-called galactic players have such records.'

'Right. Why was it shivering?'

'Information: It is the Jyondon equivalent of the Mixcycli blush, Human smile, or Ghutarn squint. Speculation: You may have equivalent chromatophoric displays, but this information is not available in currently-accessible libraries.'

'We get it. Okay. Ship? Send over the data and do whatever you need to do to prepare for their arrival.'

The ship beeps – a short tone we have come to recognise as 'Yes', or 'okay', or ‘affirmative’ - or maybe just 'done', because the Dhruhagon seems quite efficient in speech compared to Buddy’s unnecessarily long responses.

We grab our guns from the side of the seat – two particle blaster thingies that belonged to the former commander – then clamber back aboard the service drone. 'Let's go meet our visitors,' we say, and it obediently whisks us off the bridge.

The visitors travel through the empty space between the ships in a shuttle – a smaller ship the nature of which we learned from Star Trek – and which enters through a bay in the underbelly of the Dhruhagon. The bay has an odd fringed opening that stops the atmosphere escaping into space, and it looks a bit like the mouth of a sponge, except leading outward instead of in. As we watch the shuttle land we imagine that we are a tiny fish hiding inside a sponge, watching a bigger fish come into the sponge to try to eat us.

The shuttle splits open along one side, a hatch becoming a door and then a ramp. Cheeky waves at the figures that emerge as we wait on the back of our drone. We recognise Captain Hawu immediately; below its bifurcating head and neck is an angular quadruped form with spiked joints, and legs that terminate in chunky pincers. We decide its whole body looks like coral, not just its head. Aside from an equipment belt it wears no clothing.

It trots out of the ship and approaches. 'Commander Gazette,' it greets us.

'Captain. Welcome aboard.'

'Allow me to introduce my companions.' Behind this Jyondon come two taller figures. The first has lilac skin and looks a little like a short human, but the proportions are wrong – its three fingers are several times as long, its hands twice as long, and forearms half again longer than they would be on a similarly-sized human. 'This is the Duchess Yi-Ka,' the captain says, and the Duchess Yi-Ka bows in our direction.

Their other companion is proportioned more like a regular human, but with legs that bend back like the hind legs of the jaguar we saw on the Shaxixith'th. It's also more angular, has a line of spines running down its head to its back, and has an additional set of arms that emerge from a second pair of shoulders behind its back. The skin of this being phosphoresces a gentle blue colour. 'And this is Shscs,' the captain says, and for this name it uses only hisses and consonants. We practice repeating the name as the phosphorescing creature gives us a two-handed wave, its shade of blue becoming more saturated as it does.

'Hi,' it says.

'We will not be long,' the Duchess Yi-Ka says. 'If we may borrow your service drones, we can task them to gather what we require from your stores, and be on our way.’

'Okay. Ship? Can you send service drones to our guests?'

The ship beeps, and a few moments later the door opens and drones similar to the one on which we ride zoom in. A drone stops before each of our visitors, and they plug small devices into ports in the drones, which then turn and zoom away again.

'Easier than carrying all that stuff ourselves,' Shscs explains. It nods to Hawu, then sets off after the drones.

Hawu steps forward and gestures to us. 'I'm afraid I must ask you to relinquish your weapons before you board our shuttle,' it says.

Fighty curls in the air at its words. 'We're not sure we want to do that,' we tell it 'You are all armed, after all.’ Pokey points at the items slung on equipment belts on each of the newcomers, over form-fitting clothing on Yi-Ka and Shscs, and against Hawu’s bare epidermis. ‘What's to stop you just shooting us and taking the ship?'

Right after we say this, we wish we hadn't – in case these creatures hadn't thought of that yet.

'Why would we do that? The ship is ours already. We made an agreement, did we not, Commander?'

'We did.'

The captain turns to its remaining companion. 'Yi-Ka?'

The long-fingered being looks up and to the left, and starts speaking as if reading something we cannot see.

'Two Blevedian disintegration pistols with custom grips for Ghutarnian use. Line one-oh-three on the armoury listing.'

'Will you not honour our agreement, Commander Gazette?' Hawu asks.

'Huh,' we say. We had agreed they could take what they wanted from the ship, after all. 'Okay then.’

Feely and Cheeky hold out the pistols and Yi-Ka reaches out to take them. Feely relinquishes the first, but Cheeky moves the other around so the lilac being’s fingers can't close on the weapon. Chokey and Mighty wrestle the unruly arm into stillness, and Yi-Ka takes the pistol, peering at our arms with interest. Fighty, meanwhile, just seems to be sulking. Buddy is nowhere in sight, and we guess Sneaky is keeping it hidden, in case they demand it too.

'What exactly are you?' Yi-Ka asks us. 'I can't seem to find a match for you anywhere... Are you some sort of a Jujhing?'

'A what-thing? No, we are an octopus.'

'A what-o-pus?'

'A type of cephalopod.'

'A cephalo-what? You aren't in any of the usual databases. Are your people extra-galactic?'

'Nope. My people aren't sapient like us. We're the only ones.'

'Ohhh. Wait a sec. Xy4?' Yi-Ka continues to look up and right, squinting as it does so. 'A-ha. Got you. An octopus. From the oceans of the garden planet nearby? Uncontacted? I bet the dominant race there would hate to know you beat them to encounters with other space-faring species.'

We laugh. 'Yes! They act like they own that planet. We’d like to go back and rub their faces in you.'

Hawu makes a loud moo-ing sound at this, but before we can ask its meaning the first of the service drones returns, its many manipulator arms laden with cases of weaponry, and it speeds up the short ramp into Hawu's shuttle to unload them.

Stealy seems quite active, and this reminds us what Buddy told us about their ship. We peer up at Hawu and Yi-Ka. 'Are you... pirates?’ We ask.

Hawu looks a bit disconcerted by this. Yi-Ka just smiles. After a moment, the captain answers with a question of its own.

'Are you really a commander, of any sort whatsoever?'

'If we answer your question, will you answer ours?'

Hawu's fronds shiver again. 'Certainly.'

'The ship is stupid. It thinks we are its commander, but we aren't really.'

'And while we are not pirates, we do indulge in the occasional act of what the aggrieved parties might term "piracy".'

'Huh. We're quite new to language in general, but we think that makes you, in fact, pirates.'

Hawu shivers again. 'And you command a vessel, which I think makes you, in fact, a commander.'

'Huh. So it does. And piracy is like stealing, but from a ship, right?'

Hawu seems confused by our question, and we wonder if the concept of piracy is as new to the captain as it is to us.

The other service drones return before it can answer, and Shscs trots in behind them. 'She's tagged and claimed. Let's get out of here,' it says. ‘It stinks of Ghutarn.’

Hawu makes a satisfied noise, and with a last look about the cargo bay, boards the shuttle. We follow Shscs and Yi-Ka up the ramp, and the four service drones follow us in.

The shuttle comes to life and shifts under us, and for a brief moment all our arms seem to weigh wrongly as we switch gravitic fields.

Pokey points at all the drones, strapped up with things they've scavenged from the Dhrahugon.

'That's all you're taking?' we ask. 'If we were pirates we'd want more than that. This ship's got all kinds of weapons and stuff built in.'

Yi-Ka makes a noise we can't interpret, and Hawu wobbles its head. 'We'll... come back for it. We don't have the equipment with us to strip it right now, and it would take weeks to get everything of value. We'll return after we drop you off.'

The journey to the Stony Tide takes less than a minute. From the forward window of the shuttle it looks a lot less predatory than the Dhrahugon. It's quite flat and diamond-shaped, with one particularly pointed end. We think it looks a bit like a ray, until Yi-Ka spots our curiosity and politely informs us that the pointy end is the bow, and after that it looks a bit like ray that’s facing backward.

We dock in a small opening at the rear and the bay doors close behind us. This airlock is just the right size for a pair of shuttles, and it pressurises, opens into the ship, and rolls the shuttle forward into a cramped cargo bay. The ship hums under us immediately, and we guess the engines have begun moving us away from the Dhrahugon.

'Welcome aboard,' Hawu tells us as the shuttle ramp-door descends.

Away from the Dhrahugon our drone won't respond to our shifting weight, so we have to walk off the shuttle on folded limbs, which is as awkward as ever, even in the slightly lighter gravity of this new ship.

'Fortunately, we have a spare bunk,’ Hawu says. ‘We'll show you to your quarters, let you get settled, and then give you the tour.’

The Stony Tide is very different from the Dhrahugon and the Shaxixith'th. The air is thicker and more acrid. The corridors are narrower, and not as clean. There is even mud on the floor, and we can tell the ship doesn't have service drones of its own. It seems like an older craft, and well-used. Flecks of paint indicate the walls don't have their own chromatophores, but have had their colour changed a few times nevertheless. The flat design means the interior spans only two levels – there are no gravity fields at opposing or perpendicular angles aboard this vessel.

'Here we go,' Hawu says as we stop before a door. It taps one stubby pincer at the panel alongside and it slides open. 'All yours.'

We shuffle inside and look around. It's quite small, painted a dull grey colour, and contains only a long kind-of bed. We're not really sure what kind of creature it was designed for.

'Is there any chance...' we begin, and tail off as the door slides closed behind us, culminating with a thunk, and the onset of a rather distinct silence as Hawu disables the door mechanism's power supply.