---Welcome---

We dock with another ship, in orbit around Thrulj.

Bidding his goodbyes to everyone (with an especially heartfelt seeming one to Princess Vsila… I suppose they must have bonded over something in the Dorm they shared) the man we rescued from (the newly christened) planet Melinoë picks up his meagre pack of possessions and walks to the docking tunnel.

His pet, Horme, with whom he has recently been reunited after quarantine, follows at his heels and waits beside him, obediently.

Victor tells me that that animal resembles one from past eons, on Earth, that was a member of a cousin clade to the Terran avians… I, personally, don’t see it!

She looks more like what a child would draw if you asked them to imagine a deathworld animal: All vicious teeth and claws!

The passageway to the other ship opens revealing two men.

One is short, slim, wears a suit and is very smiley, the other is tall, muscular, wears a military uniform and a grim expression.

The tall one turns his head to me, his expression dour, and asks “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” in a deep voice, sounding somehow both bored and irritated.

“Granted.” I answer, politely, trying not to take his curt tone too personally. For all I know, that may just be how he speaks!

The two men step over the threshold and the short man smiles “Major Leandros?”

The Major confirms “I am he.”

“Perfect!” he says, clapping his hands together delightedly “My name’s Ferenc ‘Sunbeam’ Iyanda of the Office of Deathworld Relations and this is Colonel Mizn 'Stormcloud' bin Idrak-Osman of the UTCM Marines (the thematic alignment of our epithets is entirely a coincidence, I assure you!). The Colonel’s here to serve you your discharge papers, I’m here to witness. Is that all alright?”

The Major nods and gives an uncertain “That’s… alright.”

Beaming, Iyanda says “Splendid! I’ll let him get on with it then.”

The Colonel steps forward and the Major brings his hand to his chest, standing to attention.

“At ease.” orders the deep voiced Colonel, his height and build similar to Victor’s.

The much slimmer (though almost as tall) Major brings his hand away from his chest, standing instead with both his hands hanging loosely at his sides, though he does not shift his footing.

The imposing man produces an envelope… a physical envelope! Made of paper!

“Contained in this envelope is your Certificate of Honourable Discharge. Confirm its contents and then sign here for it…”

The Major takes the Envelope and opens it, pulling out its contents and looking them over before replacing them, taking the holopad he was proffered and scrawling some unfamiliar characters (that are presumably his name, in his language).

“As a representative of the Marine Branch of the United Terran Coalition Military, I hereby discharge you. Should you wish to rejoin, in future, you may apply to do so, without prejudice. The United Terran Coalition thanks you for your service.”

The Major makes to bring his hand to his chest again but visibly stops himself, simply nodding.

“Well then…” beams Iyanda, addressing all those present besides the (now) former Major “…sorry to have to blow in and blow out, so quickly, but it is a long way back to Earth, so we’ll be taking Maj Leandros, now! Have a pleasant stop on Thrulj and a pleasant onward journey!”

With that, the two men turn to walk back to the ship they came from, followed by the discharged castaway.

I wait for the docking arm to disengage before asking “Twila, is that the shortest time we’ve ever been docked to another ship?”

“By around 33.6 seconds, yes.” she answers, cheerfully.

“It seems that neither the ODR nor Terran military like to waste time(!)” I quip.

---later---

We descend to the lilac coloured continent below, in the ship’s shuttle, the majority of the crew having chosen to make use of their shore leave to visit Thrulj.

We were told that, since there are Terrans disembarking, we are required to enter at one of a few specific ports before making our way elsewhere on the planet.

The shuttle lands and the door opens.

There to meet us are several Thruljex.

Three of them approach the Nghoedwiv Princess and greet her in her people’s tradition, bringing their hands to their respective chests and then out.

She turns to me and says “Thank you for conveying me to this planet, Captain. I had the voyage of my life! I sincerely hope we run into eachother again some day!”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“You’re… welcome…” I say, a little confused.

That was quite a goodbye considering I’ve barely spoken to the girl! Perhaps her people just do heartfelt goodbyes? She did share one with the Major earlier!

One of them, a young male (I can tell both by his diminutive size and smaller horns), is holding a translatable sign that says ‘Terran’s This Way’.

I follow him which quickly elicits a “Ladies, gardenworlders do not require any extra processing… you are free to go.” addressed to both myself and Tuun.

Cocking a browtuft, I answer “Boy, this woman here is Terran by upbringing and not a gardenworlder by species. As for myself; if you are to detain any portion of the crew of my ship, I would prefer to be present. Is that acceptable?”

He shrugs “Perfectly acceptable, Ma’am, I’m just quite certain you’ll be bored to tears by the presentation I’m required to give them. You’ll be free to leave at any time, though…” turning to Tuun he says “…If you truly are a Terran, Ma’am, you’re obliged to stay for the whole thing.”

We nod and follow him, among the, now, veritable crowd of Terran Bright Plumers, to a single story building, located nearby to the landing zone.

He opens the door and stands to one side, ushering us to the rows of seats, set up to look toward a small stage.

Once everyone is seated, the young Thruljec steps onto the stage and turns to face the room.

“Greetings, Terrans… and Captain…” he says, acknowledging me with slight mirth “My name is Uljottur (yes, that is my entire name)! It’s a pleasure to be the one to welcome you to my homeworld, Thrulj! As guests on this planet, it is important for you to bear certain things in mind, while here. To that end, the Thruljor Primacy in partnership with the United Terran Coalition have developed this briefing presentation to let you know some of how you’re expected to behave. I understand this may be somewhat boring to some of you but I ask that you do your best to pay attention. You can be on your way much quicker if you do!… The first thing you’ll all need to bear in mind is that you aren’t in Kansas any more…”

This induces a polite chuckle from his audience.

“This is, I’m sure you’re all aware, a foreign planet with foreign customs, some of which may be different from any you’ve experienced in Terran Space. If you are ever uncertain of what is required of you in a given situation, please do not hesitate to contact this guidance hotline…” he flicks a finger up his holopad. Everyone in the audience gets a ping on their own, which is, presumably, the hotline’s holocom “…as Terran’s you are both entitled and encouraged to seek guidance, if you are ever uncertain about something! The hotline is open at all hours and it is illegal for any Thruljec to attempt to deny you the ability to consult it, if you wish to!”

He turns to a table that has a brick, a plank of wood and a length of pipe laid out on it “For my next point I would like a volunteer from the audience… You Sir?” he gestures at Victor who made no move to volunteer but, having been called upon, stands and makes his way to the stage.

The Thruljec boy hands him the pipe and asks “Sir, would you please squeeze this pipe as hard as you can for me?”

Victor takes the pipe in his hand and crushes it flat, instantly.

“Would you please let the audience know how difficult that was for you?” requests the presenter.

“It… wasn’t difficult… like crushing an aluminium can…” says Victor, a little uncomfortably.

“Now, this?” says the young Thruljec, presenting Victor with the plank of wood.

He wraps his large hand around it and squeezes, reducing it to splinters.

“What was that like?” asks the cloven hooved male.

“Almost as easy as breaking a plank of balsa wood.” says Victor, clearly ill at ease with being made a spectacle of like this.

“And this one?” the lavender skinned boy says as he presents the fiery haired man with the brick.

He squeezes, crumbling it into rubble, before answering “Like breaking plaster.”

“Thank you, Sir, you can sit down, now.” smiles the boy.

Once Victor is seated the presenter turns to the audience and says “All of these are regulation building materials on Thrulj! The gravity is lower, the people are lighter and weaker, there is little to nothing in the way of tectonic upheaval and the weather is infinitely less prone to catastrophic tempest! Therefore buildings do not need to be built as sturdily as you may be used to. Luckily for you, you are all insured by your government for any accidental damage you may do to public and private property, on Thrulj, so you’ll only have to pay a deductible. However, bear in mind that you can and will be prosecuted for any damage ruled to be intentional, so be careful!” the boy pauses to let that stern warning sink in before continuing “Next: Touching and consent. Please bear in mind that the ‘need to scritch’ is no more of a valid defence to an assault charge on Thrulj than it is on any Terran world! It may not be obvious to you whether a cute being is sentient or not (given that not everyone on Thrulj will be a Thruljec) so, if in doubt, please keep your hands to yourselves…”

---much later---

“…and finally… since the occupation, the quality of Thrulj’s nightlife and alcohol has been very well known among Terrans. However, something you may not be aware of is that the species of yeast equivalent, used on this planet, naturally produces an agent that, by biological coincidence, acts as a strong psychotic to all known lineages of Human. The genetic engineering, required to get Thruljor [yeast] to produce alcohol strong enough for Terran’s to consider it worth their while to drink, only exacerbates the toxicity. However, as you may be aware, Humans do drink Thruljor beer! This is possible only because of a counteragent that you are required to take here. Once you have been weighed and the drug administered you’ll be free to go. The amount of time you’ll be on planet is short enough that you do not need to return for a repeat dose!”

Here, Yasmin, the linguist, puts up her hand.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

She speaks, incomprehensibly, in what I assume to be fluent Thrulji.

Clearly taken aback, the presenter says “Uhm… let me just translate your question for the rest of the audience and then I’ll answer it… The lady here has just asked if she can be exempted from taking the counteragent, given that her religion entirely prohibits the consumption of alcohol. Unfortunately not. All Humans are obliged to take the counteragent in order to have the run of Thrulj… if you refuse, you will have to wait in orbit. The good news is that the counteragent, itself, does not violate the tenets of any known Terran religion and is completely inert, outside of neutralising the psychotic agent. Are you happy to have it administered, even though you shouldn’t need it?”

Yasmin shrugs and says something with the tone of ‘I guess so’.

“Great!” smiles the presenter “If you’ll proceed to the scales…”

I watch as the Humans form a queue.

Brunhilda is first. The machine indicates a weight of [90kg] and a dosage of [3.6mg] of the counteragent which it dispenses in the form of a bright pink tablet which she takes and puts in her mouth.

“Open your mouth.” instructs a Thruljec attendant before looking inside. He seems to be checking that she has actually swallowed it, before he dismisses her.

Jennie goes after her girlfriend. [50kg] for a [2mg] dosage

“Open your mouth.”

Victor follows. His weight is given as [117kg], his dosage [4mg].

“Open your mouth.”

Thran’s next. [167kg] and a dosage of [4mg].