…a bit of mature, human-style prudence that he then proceeded to spoil by saying “Always try to slurry with a syringe on top.”

“Yup.” The captain nodded, perfunctorily. “In case of post-nozzle drip.” But at that moment he was more interested in guns than puns, checking to make sure that there were fresh nanos loaded in a formidable backup blaster before sliding it into a tube.

Time for a brief formality. Into the chamber trooped a trio of figures wearing dark cloaks with heavy cowls almost completely covering their faces. Priests of yah-tze… practitioners of what passes for religion among demmies… which amounts to a mélange of ancient, pre-contact mythologies and whatever alien belief system happens to suit their fancy, at any moment. Mostly recruited from the kitchen staff, these part-time clerics knew better than to delay the captain very long, when he was eager to lead an away-team, so they kept it short.

Ohm and the others bowed their heads, pressing the heels of both hands against their temples while I – politely – folded mine in front of me as the three hooded Ecclesiasts performed their minimal blessing: shaking at each of us a can containing six dice and invoking the name of the Great Lady of Luck in unison, spilling the dice onto a tray.

Three ones and three sixes. My crewmates shivered and even I felt a brief, superstitious chill. But our captain grinned as the priests exited, stripping off their robes and hurrying to back to the galley. Ohm summarized his interpretation of the augury.

“A rough beginning followed by a triumphant ending. Sounds like a perfect adventure, eh Advisor?”

Unless it’s the other way around. I could not help but roll my eyes, as the door to the chamber sealed with a loud hiss.

“Ready, sir?” Ensign Taken asked from the control room, her voice transmitting through the transparent window. Another humanophile, but less intellectually inclined than Lieutenant Morell, she tried to catch my gaze, even as she addressed the captain. Her nickname, “Eyes,” came from big, doe-like irises that she flashed whenever I looked her way. She was very pretty, as demmies go… and they will go all the way at the drop of a boot-lace.

“Do it, do it, do it!” Ohm urged, rocking from foot to foot, his patience at an end.

She turned a switch and I felt a powerful tingling sensation.

For those of you who’ve never slurried, there can be no describing what it’s like to have a beam zap through you, reading the position of every cell in your body. Then comes the rush of solvent fluid, flooding in through a hundred vents, filling the transport chamber, rising from your boots to your thighs to your neck faster than you can cry, I’m melting!