---Self-Restraint---

“You’re all wrong and, if you can’t see it, you’re fools!” I say, insistently.

A chorus of opposition comes back. Not a single one of them sees sense.

I take a scoop of my dilute Terran wine into my beak before swallowing it back.

“You just don’t get it! There are millions of them! They hunger for our flesh! They bite us and then we become one of them! How can you say that zombies are less threatening than we are?!” complains Dhawan.

“I can say it because it’s true! A Terran zombie is just a Terran with EVERYTHING that makes you Terrans a force to be reckoned with gone! They’re slow, they’re stupid, they don’t plan, they don’t coordinate, cooperate, communicate, they can’t track you over land, they can’t mentally keep track of objects not currently in their awareness, they can’t trap, they can’t deceive, beguile, betray, they won’t hold a grudge, they can’t make tools, usually can’t use tools, they’re often depicted as being physically weaker than standard Terrans and, the biggest thing is that, they have no sense of self-preservation at all! An animal can learn to recognise a gun and work out that guns=death=bad, a zombie can’t! They’re only scary when they’re already in overwhelming numbers but they would never get to overwhelming numbers because of how unthreatening they are when they’re in small numbers! If one of you, even Taylor, suddenly stood up and announced they were going to try and bite someone the rest of you could probably stop them before they succeeded! That’s what a zombie’s doing all… the… time, by being a zombie!”

“Wait!” objects Arran “What was that you said about not keeping track of things mentally? ’Cause they, like, gather outside buildings they’ve seen people go in and then they stay there! That means that they’re mentally tracking that this is a building with a person in it!”

“Or…” I counter “…they’d just keep doing whatever they’re doing and the fact that the Terran who went into this building was what started them doing it is irrelevant! They’ll just do it until something comes along to displace them from it!” I take a moment to breathe “A Terran would be all like ‘Well I saw them go in there… but I can’t get in there so what else can I do?’!”

Sam chimes in here “Liking people lots and lots. Deadwalk people scary being! Not liking!”

I try to mimic a Terran smile and say “Thank you for your input, Sam.” While giving him an appreciative scritch. Akaros! That deathworld body is solid.

He wags his tail and pants excitedly before leaving the room, likely to go and tell Fluffy that he got scritches from ‘Captain bird mummy’.

“I’ll tell you why I think you’re really scared of zombies!” I announce.

“Enlighten us.” smiles Taylor.

“I think exactly because they’re so unthreatening!”

Cocking his head, Zunberi asks “Can you elaborate?”

“I’d be happy to!” I preen.

“It’s because they’re so pathetic, so meek, so slow, so stupid but, if they bite you, they’ll make you that way too! They’ll rob you of all of your inborn gifts of mind and body! If they were impressive, you’d want to be bitten by them, like vampires! Vampires are basically everything that Terrans are but more! Despite the clear drawbacks, [tonnes] of Terrans want to be bitten by a vampire. Precisely none of you are like ‘Oooh, bite me Mr. Zombie!’ [Boom]!” I chitter, boisterously.

The rest of the Triple M Commonroom are clearly trying and failing to come up with a counterargument, though that might be because they are just as intoxicated as I am.

Taylor stands and says “Well, looks like my drink needs refreshin’… and looks like the nachos and salsa’re running out. Anyone need anythin’?”

There is a brief hubbub as drinks are requested, after which he looks at his hands and says “Anyone wanna help me carry all that?”

MacLeod volunteers with a helpful smile.

A few moments pass as conversation at the lounge end of the Commonroom moves on to how quickly Bruce Wayne would be identified as Batman and Taylor and MacLeod move over to the Kitchen end to fetch the beverages and victuals.

Once they’ve returned and passed out drinks Taylor says “Guys, watch this.”

He proceeds to pour a sauce bottle I recognise into an ‘eggcup’ and slide it to me. Knowing it’s safe both from trust in Taylor and past experience, and having been unmistakably indicated to do so, I take the eggcup in my talons, tip it’s contents into my beak and tilt my head up to swallow. It has the same calorie dense, rich, flavourful impact as all deathworld foods. A mix of savoury and sweet like a green pepper or a tomato.

The instant it is in my mouth all the deathworlders erupt in shock and excitement. You’d think I’d snapped a tungsten girder in half with my bare talons. I have no idea what they find so impressive about me drinking this ‘California Reaper Sauce’ but don’t want to spoil the moment.

MacLeod is struggling to open the jar of salsa she retrieved from the kitchen. It honestly seems like an egregious overdesign to make a container that even a deathworlder can’t open.

She gives up and hands it to Taylor “Could you open this for me, babes?”

He sighs and pops it open with only slight effort.

“You know the omniappliance can open jars for you?” he asks, dryly.

“Yeah but that’s aaaaallll the way over there!” she says, gesturing back to the kitchen with mock misery.

“Plus… then I’d’ve missed the gun show!” she smirks.

I really don’t know what exhibitions of firearms have to do with anything but, when you spend time with Terrans, you learn not to interrupt the conversation to clarify every idiom you don’t understand.

“If you wanted a gun show, your amazonian girlfriend is right next to you! She could have taken your breath away with her muscular jar opening.” quips Taylor.

Ah, ‘gun show’ must be an allusion to physical prowess and displays thereof. Now what does ‘amazonian’ mean…?

MacLeod latches protectively onto her much larger girlfriend and says “She has nothing to worry about… but… there’s no harm in looking… You and she can both spare a bit of all that beefcake for us delicate little members off the fairer sex, right Tuun?”

Tuun was making a barely perceptibly injured expression before she seemed to return to herself and answer “Erm… yes… that’s right…” uncertainly.

I scoff “‘Delicate’?! I don’t think so! Human women must have extremely intense copulation rages!”

“What?!” say Taylor, MacLeod, Dhawan and Tuun, in unison.

I look around the table and it looks as if none of the Triple Ms know what I’m talking about.

Hesitantly, Zunberi asks “D…do R’qali women have a ‘copulation rage’?”

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I chitter “Of course not! But Human women do, right?”

Tilting her head, Arran prompts “What makes you think that?”

“Oh well, I’ve inferred it myself I suppose… but I don’t know what other explanation there could be?” I say, getting a little defensive.

“Explanation for what?” asks Tuun.

Hesitating, I say “…weeell… for what I saw on the handful of occasions I’ve accidentally walked in on CSS Taylor making use of a mating sim.”

For a moment you could hear a pip drop.

Then MacLeod, squeals and says “OMG, deets! What did you see!?” a similar reaction is rippling around the room. Everywhere except in Taylor’s seat, where sits a man who looks as if he’s witnessing a murder in slow motion while paralysed to inaction… for some reason.

Confused, I shrug “I mean we’re all adults here, we’ve all used mating sims when single or when at a removed distance from our partners, haven’t we?”

They are being extremely weird about this, like fledgelings in the school canopy! No adult reacts this way to talk of mating sims.

Dhawan, prompts “I think what Jennie means is what did you see in Cuddles’ ‘mating sims’ that made you think Human women have a ‘copulation rage’?”

I gesture at him and say “Well he’s right there, why don’t you ask him yourself?” it’s then that I notice his face is glowing in the IR spectrum and he seems to have entirely ceased responding. Something’s going on here.

Zunberi says “Seems like Taylor isn’t here at the moment, why don’t you just tell us for him?”

I look around and see that everyone has that same cheeky, deathworld smirk… well not everyone; Taylor is fixing a blank stare at the table… and Tuun is giving more of an expectant, hopeful expression.

I finally give up and say “I saw that the women needed to be quite heavily restrained; muzzled, bound/chained etc. and I naturally concluded that, if they weren’t, they’d be a threat to those around them, first of all their mate, due to some sort of copulation rage. Is that not accurate?”

Two thirds of the Terrans and four fifths of the Humans present burst out laughing.

Annoyed now, I say "OK, if it’s not for copulation rage, why do they need to be so restrained?"

Managing to calm down enough to talk, Arran says “No, you’re exactly right! We Human women absolutely lose our minds during the act! If proper measures aren’t taken, people can get really hurt!”

“I knew it!” I exclaim. Why were they all so strangely evasive about it only to tell me now?

“Does it only change your behaviour or is your strength also affected? Do you remember what’s happened after you return to your senses?” I ask.

After a moment’s hesitation Zunberi responds “Well, no one’s quite sure if it actually affects their physical characteristics or just unbridles strength they already have. Studying it is quite difficult, for obvious reasons!” barely suppressing giggles. “As for the subjective experience…” he glances at Arran and MacLeod.

“Vague impressions… snapshots…” says MacLeod, Arran nods enthusiastically.

“How does it work for you two?” I ask them. “Do you have to restrain eachother? How can you do that in a way that you can then… participate? How can you restrain yourselves enough to be sure you won’t break free during but can then free yourselves afterward?”

They think for a moment before MacLeod answers. “FF couples need a third. Their job is to restrain both in such a way as we can… perform… but not hurt eachother. They don’t participate…” she smirks “…usually.”

I consider this and then ask “…And who’s your third?”

Grinning smugly, she nods at Taylor and answers “Cuddles, of course!”

“Ah, that makes sense!” I say. I can’t imagine anyone I would trust more to tend to me in such a state of vulnerability. I look around and see the beaming smile on all but two faces. Taylor is still blankly focused down and Tuun looks as if she’s just been shot.

“Guys…” Taylor says, only barely above his normal speaking volume but with an intensity that silences everyone, his eyes still [thousand yard stare]ing through the table.

He looks up “That’s enough, stop messing with her, I’ll explain.”

---one very baffling explanation and many pipettes of wine later---

“And most Humans don’t have this… proclivity?” I ask, uncertainly.

“No…” he responds, mirthlessly.

“And it’s…embarrassing?” I say, timidly.

“Yes…” he responds, still grim.

“So, I… shouldn’t have exposed that?” I enquire, terrified that I’ve jeopardised my friendship with him.

“No…” he responds, with bleakness unending.

At this Zunberi nudges him and interjects “I don’t think we can call you a Triple M anymore, I think you’re a Triple S, from now on!” to general snickers.

In horror, I blurt “You would eject him from the dorm for this?! From the social group!?”

There are general guffaws at this and they reassure me that it was a joke that missed my beak… or ‘went over my head’.

“Taylor, I’m extremely sorry. R’qali don’t advertise our bedroom activities but we don’t have such an intense culture of embarrassment about it. We would give a frank answer if asked and wouldn’t feel at all ashamed. I didn’t think before I spoke. I’m sorry!” I plead, desperately.

“It’s fine, Cap.” he says, exhausted. “I wouldn’t have had it come out this way but it doesn’t look like anyone’s ready to burn a friendship over this… in a way… I’m glad that I have the opportunity to have this part of me accepted too.” he says, smiling lightly.

Arran looks at him, smiling, and says “Cuddles, you’re gonna make me cry, ya big doof! What’s going to become of my badass space bounty hunter image if that happens?! Who knew having your kinks exposed could get so touching!”

Taylor smiles back before looking around his apparently newly firm friends and saying “Yeah, I’m glad… now how about a subject change? Have you seen the eye that Kwijj has been making at that new Rethijj in research?...”

The conversation moves on to speculation about shipboard romances, potential romances and speculations on the mechanics of various interspecies unions.

At some point in the evening, six Terrans become twelve, then 24, twelve who are only there in the IR spectrum and twelve who only appear in the visible.

Fluffy got here at some point, I go to her. That nose is extremely boopable. I boop it. Very satisfying. She brings her head to the floor so I can scritch between her ears. By the Seventeen Gods of Akaros! She’s so soft! This is paradise!

Then I see Taylor’s face... My Victor! The boy from Earth who saved my life on my first mission as Captain and countless times since. The boy I hired on the spot and sponsored through SO training. The boy now become a man! Qorak may be the love of my life but Victor is my strength.

Then I ask “Victor… Dju wanna be Tcakak’s [godfather]?”

---the next morning---

I’m lying down. Why am I lying down? R’qali perch to sleep! Why am I lying down and why do I feel like a Terran has run me through a [juice press]?!

I open my eyes to see Taylor sitting by my hospital bedside. He’s noticed me stirring and is pulling a smirking face at me.

“So this is what it feels like from the other side!” I quip. He laughs at that.

“What happened?” I ask.

Pausing a moment, he speaks “I gave you a 3ml pipette to dilute your drinks with at the beginnin’ of the night. At some point you managed to, I assume unwittin’ly, exchange it for a 15 ml pipette and didn’t notice…”

I don’t bother asking if he’s sure he didn’t give me the wrong one originally. If there were any doubt, he would blame himself.

“It’s my fault…” he blames himself “…I shoulda noticed.”

I scoff at that “You should have noticed from across the table what I didn’t notice in my claws?” I query, wryly.

“It’s my job to keep you safe, Cap. The pipettes shouldn’ta been in a place where you coulda confused’em, once you confused’em I shoulda noticed the new one didn’ look right, you even said it tasted strong I shoulda…”

I hold up a wingclaw and silence falls.

“This isn’t your fault, Victor.” I say simply, letting my words hang in the air.

Eventually he nods and says “Alright, Cap.”

I nod approvingly, before asking “So, then what happened?”

He shifts uncomfortably before answering.

“Well, then you were a sparklin’ conversationalist about Terran pop culture, you accidentally exposed my preference in ‘matin’ sim’ material, we gossiped, you went to pet Fluffy (that was when I realised somethin’ was wrong) you asked me to be your daughter’s godfather and I picked you up by your feet and carried you here, like a prize turkey, to get your stomach pumped.” he lists matter of factly.

“Wait what?!” I squawk. “What was the last one?!”

“You bein’ a prize turkey?”

“No the one before that!” I say with a flick of my crown plumes.

“Oh, yeah, you asked me to be Tcakak’s godfather. I was really touched!”

I’m dumbfounded.

Eventually I say “I told you we’re expecting and I named her!?”

He cocks his head “Were you not supposed to?”

“No! It’s terrible luck to tell anyone let alone name a child before they hatch! R’qali don’t even do parental seconds! What was I thinking!?” I bury my head in my wings.

I feel a very gentle but very powerful hand on the back of my wing and look up.

I see Taylor’s emerald eyes staring back into mine.

“It’ll be OK… and… my answer is ‘yes’, by the way.”

I chirp, appreciatively “Well, what’s done is done. Thank you… sorry for being such a terrible guest.”

“You were an amazin’ guest but I think… next time… I’ll dispense your drinks.” he smiles.

“I’m invited back?” I say, a little incredulous.

“O’course!” he scoffs, before continuing “…well, I should probably get goin’. Your breakfast’ll be here soon and I’ve got duty later.”

As he makes to leave I say “Before you go, Victor… I just want to apologise again for exposing your [kink] in front of your friends!”

He smiles “Actually, Cap… I should thank you for that… after I dropped you off here, last night, and got shooed off by the nursedroid, I went back to Triple M and got waylaid by Tuun…”

He’s clearly very pleased but I’m unsure about what.

“Oh…?” I prompt.

“Let’s just say that she and I have some… common interests… and you helped us realise.”

It takes several [seconds] for me to put together what he means.

Eventually, I get there “Oh, Taylor… I’m happy for you…?”

He nods, excitedly.

Just then the nursedroid arrives and places my breakfast in front of me.

Happy for the food, I ask “What am I having?”

The nursedroid uncovers the platter and says “Pancakes, Captain.”