Wesley returned with Gaius to Dash’s quarters hours later. “I’ve assembled the list of candidates,” he said as they entered.
“Have a seat and we’ll take a look,” Dash said with a bemused expression.
“Don’t sound so excited,” Gaius said as he and Wesley sat.
“I know how this goes, and so do you. But I’ve promised to keep an open mind, and now we’re sitting here, aren’t we?”
Gaius shrugged and said nothing else.
Holding a cautious optimism, Wesley shared the first candidate to the display. He hesitated before expanding the candidate’s details. “I must warn you, to be perfectly honest, the quality of the candidates was not what I hoped for.”
Dash smiled. “Welcome to life on a freighter. People of your pedigree are rare among the stars.”
“Thanks, I guess,” Wesley said, and revealed the four-eyed and elongated head of a Cephaodia.
Dash looked between Gaius and Wesley, neither of whom could maintain a straight face. Wesley smiled and nodded toward Gaius. “Apologies, Captain. He made me do it.”
“You haven’t been around long enough to earn the privilege to tease the captain, but since you’re trying to earn us more cred, I’ll allow it,” Dash said.
“Here’s the real one,” Wesley said. A brown Tunisi appeared on the display. He was much younger than Boran, based on his coloring. Dash read over the profile.
“This one’s fine except for the class two arrest record. It’s nearly impossible to get government work with a class two.”
“We all have arrest records,” Gaius said, “except maybe for Doc.”
“That is true. I have not been arrested,” Wesley said.
“Yet,” Gaius added. “You haven’t been around us long enough.”
“Our arrests were minor infractions. Drunk and disorderliness, that kind of thing. That’s different than,” Dash leaned in to read the text, “multiple assaults and resisting arrest. That’s an abnormally mean Tunisi. Granted, the arrests were over a year ago, but it’s still on his record. Next one.”
Wesley dropped the next candidate, a Puntoo, whose leathery brown skin and eye bands were barely visible through his environment suit visor.
Dash shook his head. “Pass on this one too. You don’t want a Puntoo working on your ship.”
“They wear a breathing assistance device. They only need a minor atmosphere supplementation to breath in our nitrogen-oxygen-argon configuration.”
“I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about us. Puntoos have this unpleasant smell you don’t notice until locked in close quarters with them. It’s like a bad aftertaste. You can’t do anything about it. Even the air system filters can’t remove it. Ask Henrik. It’s one of the few things he’ll agree with me on.”
Wesley sighed and moved on. The next candidate appeared. He was on the fence about this one, but decided to present her to Dash.
A furry head appeared on the display, with two large bulbous brown eyes and a short rounded snout. They were an interesting species, the Gyhera. Despite their evolution to higher level sentients, they still held many traits serving a more primal existence. Beneath their pudgy snouts lay teeth still proficient at tearing flesh, while each fingertip contained a claw designed for climbing trees and latching onto prey. Their kind was stereotyped to have a superiority complex, despite being the newest race to formally join the galactic community years after the Auturia Incident. Supposedly rogue Gyhera forces destroyed the Ferrulian colony ship as it attempted to land at a secret HuCo outpost. The Commonwealth still dealt with the consequences to that very day.
But the candidate held a valid license, and a few recommendations on her profile. Wesley glanced at Dash, and saw the captain’s face tense with animosity. He said, “No, absolutely not. No Gyhera.”
Wesley looked at him, then Gaius. “What’s the problem? She is perfectly qualified.”
“In the captain’s experience, the Gyhera are best left to crews of their own kind,” Gaius said.
Wesley could hear in Gaius’s tone that it wasn’t an issue to be pressed. “Moving on, then.”
A Pree female appeared next. Her coloring was light blue, with darker purple-tinted streaks on her limbs and outside edges of her thin head. Human-like in many ways, their svelte frames, lustrous skin, and seemingly universal sensuality gave their small population a favorable reputation. Wesley had met a few Pree at university, and agreed with that sentiment. Unfortunately, their regressive homeworld had grown more totalitarian since the destruction of Auturia. As vocal opponents of these changes, the Pree living among the stars leveraged their agreeableness to place pressure on their leaders to reform their ways. Wesley believed in the cause, and would’ve placed himself in service of it had he not been in his precarious situation.
Dash shook his head.
“What’s the problem now?” Wesley asked.
Dash pointed to Gaius. “Him. He’s the problem.”
“Why am I the problem?” Gaius said with the youthful innocence of a child who knew perfectly well why they were the problem.
“Seriously? You’re obsessed with that Pree singer on the display in your quarters. You’re always listening to her music.”
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“You mean Lady Starlight? The immensely famous pop singer topping the charts galaxy-wide as she stands against her oppressive homeworld overlords?” Gaius said, and saw Dash’s blank expression. “You need to get off the ship more.”
“I don’t listen to pop music, and even I know who she is, Captain,” Wesley said. “She is a major player in the battle against sentient suppression across the galaxy.”
“She sounds like a wonderful lady,” Dash said, then turned to Gaius. “I don’t need you fraternizing with fellow crewmembers again. It never ends well with you. You don’t have to return their affections. I don’t need the awkwardness, crying, and fighting that accompanies all your relationship drama.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Gaius said.
Dash held his hands out. “You got into a shouting match while attempting to land in a heavy storm. We almost crashed into the control tower.”
“First off, that wasn’t my fault,” Gaius said. “That was one time. And she wasn’t Pree, so I don’t see why that is relevant.”
Dash looked to Wesley. “You see my point?”
“All too well,” Wesley said, and waved the candidate off his rapidly shrinking list. “This is the last one.”
The Crekzel’s short torso sported four tentacle-like arms and a head with wideset eyes. Despite their evolution on a heavily-aquatic moon—and a reliance on a thin environment suit to regulate humidity and temperature—they were quite adaptable to a variety of working environments. Wesley had read an article in a trade publication about the Crekzels’ ability to slip into all sorts of tight spaces on ships and complete maintenance tasks that even bots would have difficulty doing.
“No way,” Dash said. “He’s a Crekzel. They don’t get along with Ghuptos. Crekzels resemble an aquatic delicacy on the Ghupto homeworld. There’s been too many instances of altered Ghuptos trying to snack on Crekzels.”
“My goodness,” Wesley said. He swiped the last profile away.
“See? Like I said, not so easy.”
“No, it’s not,” Wesley said, and sat back in his chair, defeated. “Those were the only viable candidates I could find on the Praxum Depot hub.”
“Now you see what I get to go through,” Dash said. “It was worth a shot. I appreciate your effort.”
“Captain, I ask you to reconsider the Pree candidate,” Wesley said, and shot a firm stare at the pilot. “I’m sure Gaius will promise not to engage in any sort of non-professional relationship should the candidate come aboard.”
“Listen, I’m a consummate professional. I don’t need to promise anything. But I can’t be held responsible for other people’s feelings toward me,” Gaius said. “Besides, I’ve got a lot going on in my life right now. Galaxy Battles is taking up all my free time. And I need to prep for my follower event.”
“You mean flight training is taking up all your free time,” Dash corrected.
“That too.”
“Please, Captain. Can we speak with her? There’s no harm in that,” Wesley said.
Dash chewed on his lip. “Fine. But I’m not dealing with any drama. If she ends up coming aboard, she’s your baggage.”
“That’s acceptable,” Wesley said, trying to contain his smile. “Providing counseling on interpersonal relationships among the crew falls under my duties anyway.”
“Set up a meeting with her when we arrive at the Depot,” Dash said. “Now, both of you get out of here before I change my mind.”
Gaius left. “Thank you, Captain,” Wesley said, and followed. When they were out of earshot, he asked Gaius, “The captain was very adamant about the Gyhera candidate. Do you have any insight into his strong feelings about that?”
The pilot paused in the passageway, and turned to Wesley. “All I know is he had a bad experience in the past. It’s not something I’m inclined to bring up.”
“I have to admit it’s a little troubling to me. Discrimination is a very real problem in the galaxy—”
Gaius held up his hands. “Hold on. One thing I’m certain about Cap is his morals. If he don’t like you, there’s a real good reason for it,” he said. “Let’s start with our new hire scheme. Then we’ll move on to conquering any supposed social ills among the crew.”
“It’s an initiative, not a scheme.”
“Call it whatever you want,” Gaius said, backing away towards the lift. “You want guaranteed peace and harmony among the crew? There’s an easy answer for that.”
“And that is?”
Gaius said over his shoulder, “Keep the creds coming in.”
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