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The crew set in for some much needed repairs at a small station just inside Solar Federation space. Also docking there is a cargo ship owned by some shifty blue aliens.

I've passed the point of no return. You know when that is? That's the point in a journey where it's longer to go back to the beginning than it is to continue to the end. It's like when those astronauts got in trouble when they were going to the moon. Somebody messed up and they had to get them back to Earth but first they had to go around the moon. They were out of contact for hours. Everybody waited breathlessly to see if a bunch of dead guys in a can would pop out the other side. I'm on the other side of the moon now and everybody will have to wait until I pop out.

---

Prax sat in the mess hall, reading a data pad. His own office had become too cramped for him, especially after working there non-stop since morning. Someone walked in, and since he was sitting next to the entrance, couldn’t help but greet them. “Good afternoon, Sella.”
She looked surprised that he’d bothered to talk to her. “Hello, Captain.”
”Care to join me? I could use some input regarding the damage done to the accelerator assemblies.”
“Oh! Of course! Let me get my coffee first and I’ll be right over!”
She zoomed off to the coffee machine. Prax chuckled and took out a second data pad, making a copy of the one he was reading. When Sella returned with a coffee-stained cup, he passed it to her. “I’m trying to decide which repair station we should visit. Since we have to tow the Amber, we’re limited to L^2, so there’s only five repair stations we can reach in less than two weeks.”
Sella took a sip of her coffee as she quickly read over the list. “Oh, well NSP Station is nearby, it would only take two days to get there at L^2.”
“Yes, they’re close, but recently there was an accident that destroyed two of their three ship births. We’d be waiting for a month, at least, just to get scanned.”
“Right, sorry… One moment…”
She laid the data pad down and quickly set it to display each station relative to the Exile on a star map. “Hmm… There’s a station that isn’t on this list.”
“Really? I thought I’d gotten them all…”
She pointed to the border of Atriean space. “There’s a station here, on the Solar Federation side. Small, but they have four births and our ships are fairly small. They don’t service large ships so most people ignore them.”
“Ah! I see it, here. Grober’s Station. Only five days away.”
“I’ve heard good things about it, but I’ve never been there. Apparently they have a real Terran Cafe.”
“Oh, I’ve heard enough, Lieutenant! I’ll contact the Solar Federation and request access.”
He crossed his arms as Sella tried to hide how proud she was of herself. “How’d you find this little hole in the wall?”
“O-oh, we stopped there once while I was serving on the Kathresh. I didn’t get shore leave, but I heard all about it from the other Petty Officers.”
“Good memory. Thanks for saving me another hour of agonizing. Keep it up and I might have to promote you.”
“If people were promoted for their good memory, Galya wouldn’t be where she is.”
They both laughed, Prax shaking his head. “Lieutenant! I should put you on report!”
“It was worth it. Haha!”
Prax took the data pad back and hummed. “In all seriousness… You don’t seem to belong here.”
“Sir?”
“Oh, that came out wrong… What I mean is that you have the service record to serve on the flagship! Lieutenant by 22, passed your Academy exams with flying colors and served on the illustrious Kathresh.”
“Jekk Podilgarb would disagree.”
“Who?”
Sella tapped the side of her cup as she told the story. “Jekk was serving in the same magazine as me. We were pulling out a PD core and I, uh… I was responsible for a power surge that electrocuted him. He was in the hospital for two months.”
Prax nodded slowly. “I see. It was an accident, then?”
“Yes, but-”
“Then my point still stands.”
Sella looked down into her cup. “Even if they offered me a seat on the flagship… even if they made me a bridge officer, I wouldn’t have taken it.”
Prax read her face even though he couldn’t see it. “Sella, I’ve seen you work. You’re good. Hell, you saved the ship with burned paws, I’d call that more than competent! Don’t devalue yourself because of one accident.”
She looked up again and forced a smile. It felt more sincere than it should have. “Thanks, Prax.”
“You’re very welcome, Lieutenant. Now, how about- oh damn!”
Prax noticed the time as his data pad entered power save mode. He sprang up. “Katel is waiting for me, I have to run. Enjoy that coffee, we’ll be drinking the real good stuff in five days.”
“Right.”
He dashed through the door. Sella took a deep drink of her coffee and coughed. “Don’t call him by his first name, Sella…”

Prax rushed into his office to find Viks and Katel deep in conversation. “…but the mayor doesn’t care, and the grid police- Oh, sir.”
“Sorry I’m late. Here, Viks.”
Prax passed the data pad to him and sat. “Wanna let me in, Katel?”
Viks scratched his head as he read the pad. Katel explained. “We were just discussing Onthono’s Planet. They closed the university there and put sixty students out of an education!”
Viks slammed the data pad down. “Dammit, Captain, I went to that university! They can’t just close it down!”
Prax raised his arms. “Back up… why’d they close it down? I thought we were trying to build more universities on outlying colonies?”
“Well, that’s the thing that’s got people so mad.” Katel explained. “The Morals Council decided there wasn’t enough growth potential in the colony, said they projected less and less students would attend each year. Then they just axed the place!”
Prax sighed. “Here we go again.”
“Sir?”
“Last time the Morals Council made questionable decisions this frequently three council members were found guilty of embezzlement. Expect an audit from NPA.”
Viks nodded. “I hope it comes. Dammed Planetary Rush created more problems than it fixed, if you ask me.”
“Didn’t you just say you were from Onthono’s Planet? Without the Rush there wouldn’t be an Onthono’s Planet.”
Viks was about to retort hotly but Prax held up his paws. “Gentlemen, need I remind you we’re supposed to be discussing our own problems?”
“Right, right, sorry Captain.” Viks muttered.
“Sorry.”
Prax gestured to the data pad Viks was now neglecting. “What do you two think of Grober’s Station? I know it isn’t an Atriean repair facility but they are close and apparently half the engineers are Atriean trained.”
Katel nodded as he read the pad over Viks’ shoulder. “I can see that… Oh, a coffee shop? I don’t suppose that’s why you want to go, Prax?”
“Haha! Not the only reason, but one of them. Sella clued me onto this place, and its coffee.”
Katel glanced at Viks, who shrugged. “I have no objections.”
“Me neither. Maybe they’ll let us stock up on some real Human coffee.”
“Alright, then. It’s settled. As soon as the towing cable is attached and the Amber’s drive computer is synced to ours, we’ll head to Grober’s Station.”

~~~

On the cockpit of a freighter nearly fifty light years away, two so called blue aliens stood facing one another on the bridge. These aliens had an incredibly complex language, so to the outside observer it sounded like incoherent babbling. As such the name for their species was approximately forty-seven syllables long and could not be said slowly without changing the word’s meaning. So, the galactic community had dubbed them “blue aliens”. Their bridge was laid out with two consoles facing away from each other, so the two pilots could be face to face while operating the ship. It also happened to be a very cramped space, which didn’t bother either of the pilots, as they were only three feet tall. They were also blue and winged, with prehensile protrusions on their arms and chests that, when idle, were usually used for scratching. A hatch opened and another of the blue aliens flew into the cockpit. It babbled. “Hexiclagheritslam sir! I just found another burst oxygen canister on level two. That’s the third one this week.”
Hexiclagheritslam shook his head slowly, using a tentacle to stroke the wiry hairs on his head. “Damn! I knew this would happen! Now we don’t have enough oxygen to last the trip!”
His copilot yelled. “We’re gonna die!”
“No, you idiot! We’ll just stop at Grober’s Station for replacements. And maybe unload some of our cargo. This run is turning out to be more annoying than fun. Humf…”

~~~

Five days later, the crew of the Exile and Amber were excitedly waiting for clearance to dock. They had been working for three months with very little shore leave, and, although it was only a space station, the crew was itching to stretch their legs. Carril and Jolan were waiting, as they usually did, in the ready room. Carril was pacing while his father read a data pad. “Rrg, we got here an hour ago! When are we going to dock already?”
“Patience, Carril.”
“What are you reading, anyway?”
“Just the report from the robbery. How three Humans got through all our security still escapes me.”
“Don’t forget one of those Humans has the authority to demote you.”
Jolan coughed. “Right. Anyway, I-”
The intercom blared to life. “This is Captain Prax, we’ve been cleared for docking. It should take about fifteen minutes. Shore leave parties A-C please report to the airlocks for disembarking. If you are not in parties A-C do not crowd the airlocks, please. We don’t want a repeat of our last shore leave.”
Carril slapped his leg. “Yes! Finally! Come on, Jolan!”
“I’m not going.” He said, scrolling the page.
“What? So you can read? They have a coffee shop, you know.”
“I know about the coffee shop; everyone’s been talking about it all week. Go have fun, Carril, I’ll be alright.”
He shrugged. “Alright. Don’t sit in here all day, though.”
“No promises. I have a lot of reading to do.”
Carril shook his head and walked out the door, nearly colliding with Galya. “Hey Pilot! You’re in party A, right?!”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
She laughed, grabbing his shoulder and steering him towards the ladder. Their voices echoed around the bay, especially Galya’s. “Don’t call me sir while we’re on shore leave, that’s an order! Listen, me and most of the senior staff are going for lunch at this really nice bistro we found! Authentic Terran cuisine! Wanna come?”
“Uh, I guess so…”
“Great! Come on, they’re all waiting!”
She bounded up the ladder and into the elevator. Carril barely made it before the doors slid closed. “So Carril…”
“Yes?”
“You’re technically a member of the senior staff, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s only because this is a ship of misfits.”
Galya laughed. “Haha! You’re right! Still, you get paid the same as a senior Pilot. I’d be proud of myself,” she switched to a whisper, even though they were alone in an elevator. ”…even if this ship is full of outliers.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Hm?”
“Proud, I mean. You already outrank me, and we’re similar ages.”
“Oh, I guess you’re right! Well, yes, I am proud. I’ll be prouder once I’m Lieutenant Commander Galya!”
Carril glanced at the grinning otter as the doors opened. “You’re aiming for Captain?”
“Maybe. I don’t know if I’m good enough, but I’ll try.”
“Well, that’s something we share, I guess. I think I’ll only be proud of myself once I’m a Deck Commander.”
“Lofty goals! They don’t make just anyone into a Deck Commander.”
“Don’t worry about me, I can do it.”
Galya sensed no hesitation in his words. “I believe you. Oh, there they are! Guys! I brought him!”
Sella, Ozzy and Walf turned from their conversation. “Oh, finally!” Ozzy said, adjusting his uniform. “I’m starving. Have you ever had spaghetti?”
Carril shook his head. “No. Does that have meat in it?”
“Sure does! And a weird fruit sauce.”
Sella scrunched up her nose. “Fruit sauce? With meat?”
“On pasta!”
Walf laughed. “I’ll stick to what I know, but I can’t wait to see you try and eat fruit and meat pasta.”
They all sauntered through the airlock, Carril walking behind. The conversation stopped once they hit the promenade. The massive outer ring of the station was lined with stores between the station’s docking ports. Each one was brightly lit and advertised their services in as many languages as could fit on their signs. The interior design had too many rounded edges to look nice, but the whole place had a distinctly sleek feel to it. People (mostly Humans but with the occasional Atriean and Yerin) streamed by on their way to wherever, most ignoring the stores and each other. Carril could see Bregman and Zia talking to someone at a door, further down the promenade. “Hey, that’s-”
Galya gasped and grabbed Sella’s arm. “Look! It’s an S-Com Foundry!”
“Oh, really? I’ve never been to one…” Sella said.
Walf laughed at the two’s visible excitement. “We’ll reserve a table. You guys have fun.”
Ozzy glanced between Walf and the two Lieutenants. “I-I mean, I could use a new case for mine… Something in red.”
“What’s an S-Com Foundry? I’ve never heard of it.”
Galya gasped at Carril’s comment. “It’s only the highest quality S-Com accessory chain in the observable universe! They aren’t allowed to operate in Atriean space, though… that’s probably why you’ve never heard of them.”
“Yeah, they’ll even color your S-Com for you. You can’t do that in any old S-Com store!” Ozzy said.
Walf nodded slowly. “Y’know, this is starting to sound kinda interesting…”
Sella and Galya dragged Walf towards the store. Ozzy glanced at Carril. “You coming?”
Carril didn’t even own an S-Com. “Yeah, just give me a second, I gotta use the restroom.”
“Alright.”
Ozzy dashed off after the three. Carril glanced between the S-Com Foundry and where Bregman had just disappeared into the door. The choice was obvious. He followed Bregman.

Prax only stayed on the ship long enough to ensure it was securely docked in a repair birth. He then left the bridge to the three annoyed Petty Officers and headed down towards the airlock. Viks and Katel were waiting there. “Ah, there you are! Come on, I hear the station is pretty spectacular.” Katel said.
“Indeed. I thought Anri was joining us?”
“Oh, well, there was a problem with docking the Amber. She decided to stay behind and keep an eye on things.”
Viks pushed them both through the airlock. “Come on, you two! I’m only getting grayer!”
At first they said very little as they strolled along the long, gently curving hall, taking in the unique sights, sounds and smells. Prax took a deep whiff. “Oh, I smell coffee!”
Katel laughed. “You’re like a bloodhound! All I smell is alien body odor.”
“No, the Captain’s right, there’s definitely coffee nearby… there!”
The coffee shop was painted faux wood, and seemed populated with mostly crew from the Exile. The sign outside read: The Black Thorn Stick Cafe. Prax licked his lips unconsciously. “If only Sylvia was here. She’d love this.”
Katel nodded. “I don’t doubt that.”
Viks cut in. “Who’s Sylvia?”
Katel and Prax shared a knowing glance. “Oh, she’s the one that turned me into a coffee snob. We served together some years ago.”
“Ah, I see. Oh, wow, the whole ship is here!”
As they entered the cozy space, it became clear that a large portion of the crew had indeed chosen this shop to visit first. The line up to the counter was long, but the three joined anyway. Prax took a deep breath. “Oh, that’s definitely the good stuff I smell back there. I have a good feeling about this station, Katel.”
Katel grinned at Prax’s enthusiasm. Between when they first embarked together and now, Prax’s mood seemed to have improved greatly…

Carril found himself inside a strange shop filled with junk. Zia and Bregman were browsing across the shop, while the owner watched. He was a strange fellow, an alien Carril recognized as a member of the Devorrite race. He was lumpy around his head, and beneath his clothes there seemed to be a lively collection of snakes, but Carril knew it was just his other limbs idly moving. One of his eyes focused on Carril. “Oh, another officer! Welcome, sir! Please, look around!”
“Uh, thanks, I will.”
He walked the aisles, poking at some jewelry and picking up the odd book or disk. His eye caught a dusty bin that had been pushed under a table. It was filled with M-Dysks. “No way…”
Essence, Glout Gregort, Flying Ices, Flimflim. All the greats were there. He took out one of the albums and started reading the track list when a voice made him jump. “Hello, Pilot! I see you found your way in here too!”
Zia grinned down at him as she leaned over the table. Carril stood. “This place is awesome. Look what I found.”
“Old music? Damn, what even is this thing?”
Carril slid the rubber disk out of its sleeve and held it gingerly. “I guess you could say it’s a pre-digital data storage device. You’d put this disk in a player and it would use a little needle to play music. The songs were machine etched into the disk directly.”
“Wow. I bet that didn’t sound very good.”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never even seen a real M-Dysk. They’re rare. I’m gonna buy these.”
Zia laughed. “Me and Bregman found an Atriean fertility icon. It’s a replica, though, not worth anything, but I bet we could find some pretty interesting Atriean made items here. Like those!”
She pointed at the box of M-Dysks Carril was wrestling to pick up. “Is that why you two came in here?”
“Well, not really. Me and Bregman like to poke around in stores like these. It’s just fun.”
“Oh. I can see why.”
“Zia! Who are you talking to?”
“Just Carril! Come on, we found a wall of old magazines. You wouldn’t believe how hilarious some of the old ads are!”
Carril spent the next hour browsing through the oddities the shop had. He found Zia and Bregman to be good company, which was not something he expected. They both had a rapport, but he didn’t feel like a third wheel as the two constantly asked his opinion on anything. He and Bregman were looking through containers of jewelry when Carril came across a locket. “Huh. How much do you want to bet there’s still a photo in here?”
“Fifty credits there isn’t. Who’d give away a family photo, eh?”
“Bad breakup?”
“Good point. Well, open it and let’s see!”
He fumbled around the edges of the locket, but the opening mechanism wasn’t obvious. “Grr…”
“Let me.”
Bregman took the locket and examined it closely. He seemed to enter a state of deep concentration Carril found fascinating. His paw movements were precise and deliberate as he probed the locket with one of his claws. After a few short seconds he smiled, pressed a nearly invisible button and the locket popped open. “There! It’s one of those old secret lockets.”
Carril and Bregman studied the image inside. Though not a photograph, it was a faded drawing of a feline and a raccoon. “Huh. Call it even?”
“Sure.”
He closed the locket and placed it back on the shelf. “Who’d want a secret locket, anyway?”
“I dunno. It was a fad a while back… oh, mama…”
“What?”
From the same bin, Bregman pulled a silver necklace with a silver heart dangling from it. In the heart was set a dazzlingly blue jewel that shimmered more brilliantly than any sapphire he’d ever seen. “Wow… it’s beautiful.”
He set it down gently on the shelf. “Oh, beauty is not all this holds, young pilot. This was definitely made by Atriean paws. And see that jewel? It’s made of Fisolite crystal.”
“Really? I’ve never seen them shine like that before, though…”
“You haven’t, because the only source of jewelry grade Fisolite crystals available to Atriean craftsmen was exhausted eight hundred years ago!”
“What?! You’re kidding, right? I mean, the shopkeeper wouldn’t just have it out here if he knew how rare it was…”
Carril gulped as he looked at Bregman. Like with the locket, he was entirely focused on the crystal, and was even drooling a little. “This is a story only Atrieans would know. It’s likely that this crystal came from a chunk of Minfus. You know, Atriea’s furthest moon?”
“Right! Its core was made of Fisolite.”
“Yes, but the only way for the crystals to grow brilliant like this was to be exposed to oxygen for a few hundred years. Only bits of Fisolite from Minfus that landed on Atriea could have produced crystals like this. There hasn’t been an impact from a Fisolite meteor since the dark ages, that we know of. Ergo…”
“...This necklace is one of a kind.”
Bregman snatched it up. “And I’m going to buy it for a fraction of what it’s worth! Zia!”
Zia poked her head from a fitting room. She was wearing a wide brimmed hat. “What?”
“We’re going. Come on!”
She scurried out. “Great! Look at this hat I found! Must be for catching snow so it doesn’t get on your muzzle…”
“Zia, that’s a cowboy hat.”
“A what?”
Carril laughed as Bregman approached the counter without answering. “Hello, sir!”
The man slowly rotated to face them. “Hello! Let’s see what you’ve got… hmm… one box of M-Dysks? Twenty thousand credits. Just the hat, ma’am?”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Nine hundred credits. And-”
“One sapphire necklace!”
The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes at the necklace. “Hm. Two million.”
“T-two million?! For a sapphire that small?!”
“Sorry to disappoint you, sir, but that’s not a sapphire. It’s actually a Fisolite Crystal. You’ll have to put it back.”
Bregman grumbled, turning to return the item. “Fine. I won’t get anything.”
Carril and Zia paid for their items, and together they carried the M-Dysks out of the shop. “Wait for me!” Bregman yelled as he ran from the back of the store.
Zia grunted as the two bore the heavy box. “We’re not lugging this around the rest of shore leave. Come on, let’s take it back to the ship. I can’t believe you spent twenty thousand on a bunch of old music!”
Bregman trailed behind, glancing into his pocket, where a brilliant blue crystal winked back at him.

Hexiclagheritslam and his copilot stood at the airlock to their ship, watching people walk by on the promenade. Hexiclagheritslam had a bad feeling about this place, mostly because there were Atriean military officers everywhere. “What the hell are these furries doing on a Human station! I have a warrant in Atriean space! If they recognize me, I’m fabble meal.”
“My god, you’re right! Let’s leave!”
“Shut up, Babgillihaste! If they did try and arrest us, we could just slip away while they deal with the station’s commander. It would leave us in trouble, though… Ugh, where is that useless crewman with the goods?!”
“There he is!”
Another of the blue aliens flew over the heads of everyone walking along the promenade. He set down next to the two and placed the bags he was carrying down. “There…”
“Did you get the stuff?”
“What does it look like!? Okay… uh, that one’s the cheeseburger and yachha, that one’s the laxarr steak and this one’s my mushroom soup with onion rings.”
They took their food and waddled back into their ship. “Great! Seal the airlock and lock it. We’ve got some people to call.”