Jab moped in silence as he rode a hover trolley to the shuttle dock that was awaiting him. He would have taken his hover car. But it needed to be prepped and stored for shipment to the destination world. He wondered if the human’s vessel would at least have artificial gravity.

  "Arriving at destination. please be ready to disembark " Came a flat AI voice from the trolley. "Better keep an eye out for my contact" Jab sighed.

  There were a few other vessels in the port, and perhaps the wreckage port was full, because some of the ships in this section looked be destined to be scrap. But one of the ships in the shuttle bay caught his eye. “No way,” Jab gasped, completely forgetting his woes.

  He was not mistaken, in front of him was a diplomatic vessel. The CPV Terra Nova! To have an embassy in each sector of space was too much of a burden for even the most profitable and outreaching governments. To represent their interests abroad, it was decided to make a new class of ship. The Congress Projection vessel. Or CPV. All diplomacy vessels shared this prefix. Giving them certain rights and privileges as a courtesy to the nation they represented. These vessels were often custom built to represent its people and their heritage.

  The humans were no exception to this tradition. Jab gazed with wonder at the smooth hull, dark yet lively green paint swirled around bright gold stars. Jab let his gaze follow blue stripes weaved around the hull like a tapestry, stenciled in bright gold letters were the words “Per Mare, Per Terram” Jab’s communicator mentioned that phrase was written in an old language for the humans, that read “By Sea, By Land”.

  His communicator was able to connect to the local net and projected many imagines depicting the phrase in human art and photos. Showing in glorious colors their desire to brave the unknown.

  Could he be so valued by the humans that they would expend this resource to ferry him to the destination? None of the other ships looked remotely space worthy.

  The humans were still a young species…the deal between them and the galaxy wide Hovek Shipyard would be immensely important to secure their development after all…

  Lined up in a stripe around the nose of the vessel were many flags, only a few of which Jab recognized from human shows.

  Humans were one of the few species that had multiple governments and nations. Some found it odd this was the case. But it set Jab at ease knowing that as strange as humans can be, their ability to set issues aside to reach the stars implied an open-mindedness to working with others. On the top of the ship were two single turreted cannons flush with the hull.

  Jab had no doubt the cannons worked. But they -like the rest of the vessel- were not there for use but for a message of the things humans valued. In times of war these very same cannons would be pointed at a 45-degree angle. Not pointed at anything but drawn for all intense and purpose. And on the bottom of the vessel –yes!! Upside down thanks to anti-gravity! - was a glass dome that showed what could only be described as a mini forest, with a working waterfall! While small it showed a scene of the lush forests of the human cradle world.

  And as if to put a bow on this beautiful example of humanity, Jab finally noticed the honor guard at the hatch, ready to accept their guest. Were they waiting for him? To call them merely guards would not do them justice. For they themselves were a part of the exhibit. Even from this distance Jab could see their pristine uniforms and sharp precise movements.

  Jab had seen a documentary about old Earth customs and a United States Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. And the Sentinels that kept watch. Yes. These humans were as finely dressed as those. The only differences between each guard being height and skin tone. Their movements were crisp and fluid like the uniforms they wore. Perfectly in sync with a small band that played an unfamiliar yet pleasant song to welcome their guest. Jab was lost in thought of being a guest on the vessel. Working with the humans wouldn’t be that bad: comfortable custom-made seating, rich foods that must be sizzling with spices and seasonings tailored by master chiefs. A guided tour by a knowledgeable charming individual through that native human forest in the dome. And maybe Jab could even see the inner workings of the cannons!

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Suddenly he was brought back to reality by a human voice. Head ungracefully jerked to the front of his hover trolley. “G’day! Jab I assume?” greeted a human. Jab was so lost in thought he did not even notice his hover trolley had come to a complete stop with more time for the human to come on and stand before him.

  While the human was dressed well, it was what Jab recognized as “business casual”, with a button missing on the collar of the man's shirt. Jab also noticed an ear piece. Few humans opted for surgically embedded communicators. Instead they carried a small external communicator in their pocket. They had pockets too. Most species replaced that as they became more technologically advanced. The humans did not.

  “Uh yes…” Jab stuttered, beak clanking, as he regained himself. He was a lawyer; he was used to dealing with unexpected situations. Just not human related ones… “Smooth tides and warm winds. I represent Hovek Shipyard. Mr. Michiel Taylor I assume? You are my liaison?”

  “I’m just here to show you around.” The human grinned. “Mike will do. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I saw you admiring Ol’ Bessie. Ain’t she a beauty. And let me tell you that beauty is on the inside too! I got my start in engineering with her artificial gravity generators. It's quaint seeing the old girl again. She handled like a dream…Anyway, I’m here to help you and stuff. May I your bags?”

  Jab was about to agree, when he noticed the cart the man had by him.

  The cart not only had wheels but was pulled with a handle. And judging by the scratches on it was used to haul heavy cargo.

  “Ugh. No thanks. I will manage.” Jab looked past the man and his heart sank. Realization dawned that he was not in fact parked in the wreckage port of the station. And that in fact, the vessel he had assumed was scrap metal belonged to his contact. He would not be getting to ride the diplomatic vessel.

  “Now, unlike the fancy tin can over there, this ship is unsinkable…well, except that one time…But everything buffed out real good.”

  Surely this guy was just joking. In fact, perhaps Mike wasn’t actually the contact. Jab needed to create some distance so he could verify. “What, was the one time the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs?” Jab said.

  “Star Wars?” Mike barked out a rich, rolling laugh. “You know, I bet The Flying Pig could do the Kessel Run that fast…Very funny, little guy.”

  Jab wasn’t trying to be funny. He was trying to be sarcastic, almost showing distain for the scrap heap. But the human continued laughing. Worse, nearby station personal chuckled too.

  Ok, this guy was surly joking. No representative would be so casual with a client…

  But all of Jab’s hopes died when Mike pulled out his data tablet and accessed the shipyard’s computer. Jab received a notification that Mr. Michiel Taylor, New New Australia’s chief public relations specialist, invited him to the UAS transfer ship The Flying Pig for immediate departure.

  It was an official request. It couldn’t be faked, with the automatic signature of the station master. Mike had more authority on this station than even the honor guard over there, in front of the fancy ship that Jab would not get to ride on.

  Mike’s laughter faded to a chuckle, finding Jab’s media reference a joke and seemingly not picking up on his sarcasm. “Heh the paint may be pealing, but the engine purrs like a kitten! And if it is not broken, don’t fix it! Now come! Let's get you to your seat so we can get the landing gear unstuck and begin departure!” Jab’s translator assured him that the human's tone was sincere. Mike sincerely needed to get the landing gear unstuck. Was Jab about to ride a death trap?

  The door opened with rattles and clicking clacks, until it ceased moving. Mike kicked it, and it started moving again.

  “Open Seasme!” said Mike, seemingly pleased with himself.

  Jab looked longingly at the pristine diplomatic vessel, so close yet so far away, with the crisp deep and dark green paint, the precise honor guards, and the fancy anti gravity softeners.

  It made no sense to Jab. This deal could be huge for the humans. They had few true partnerships with various alien races.

  But he knew that for him, it would be ground breaking for the Havek Shipyard. The Havek Shipyard was fine…for now. For a while they had been getting pushed out of several key markets. Several species which preferred their own kind had started their own operations, and future projections showed an eventual collapse of the Havek shipyard. Their strength was slowly turning into their own weakness: They had always valued interspecies cooperation. This deal with the humans could not only slow the decline, but even potentially lead to bigger and better heights for the shipyard.

  The deal would benefit both the humans and the Havek shipyard. But it was clear the humans knew that they could go on without the shipyard. They had the upper hand.

  Jab did not want to go on the seemingly broken ship.

  But he thought of his mentor Ms Aldo.

  He was loyal to the shipyard.

  But he would…metaphorically…die for her.

  He attempted a smile, and stepped into the vessel.

  The inside was terrifying to his sensibilities, with exposed wires and panels, and so many straps and harnesses. So. No gravity dampeners. No, they used…physical safety restraints.

  “Great,” was all Jab could muster as a shutter ran down his feathers like a ripple.