In the Traebake system, passing near the star Rocty Raod, a large ship of metal and plant bore the engraving Cutty Sark. Delanmyidis downed their cup of tea and the Freighter flew in ever close to starlight as…

A scratch scrapped against the door. It could only be him. The door opened automatically with a whoosh.

Admiral Fussypants was not just any smol floofer that entreated entrance. He had three eyes, the biggest in the centre of his forehead. Each was a different colour, the right was red as blood, the left green as grass and the one at the top was pink as a peach. Further, the ginger cat had seven fluffy prehensile tails. He had robot wings in the past but he seems to have misplaced them after a risque encounter on Bordel.

Delanmyidis waited for the Admiral to come up to him and then gave him a good scratch behind the ears where he liked. Delanmyidis did not have nails nor thankfully a sting but they definitely petted. Good boi.

How it felt is a mystery to you and I.

Message incoming from Bling.
“See you on Chnik at the Tea Room in Dragon Cloud Monastery tomorrow Trebake time. Bring the tea or face the peck!”

“Send reply - And you bring the crabs from last time or I’ll send you flying silly duck.” blushed Delanmyidis.

Message sent but are you sure it is worth the risk, Captain?
Delanmyidis flushed a dark red, “Why wouldn’t it be?” The sound emitter couldn’t emote frustration, but the deep shades of red showed enough for any verse in Unified Hanarthish.

There is a bounty on your head, Koda is willing to pay for your body, dead or alive.
”I’ll keep my head down. But, please, SF1 don’t give me another reason to avoid meeting my friend.”

Sorry Captain, but can I send a message to Bling and Beak to make them aware of the danger?
Delanmyidis sighed, “Yes, please do, SF1.”

Bloody space sharks! Well Cheráns, they guessed. Bad enough they felt enough anxiety to kill a Blue Space Whale. Now, this. Why couldn’t they just meet with their friends in peace?

Captain we have arrived at the star. Initiating auto fueling sequence.
Captain Delanmyidis flushed a light shade of red, “Good work, SF1.”

As a Hanarth, Delanmyidis used one tentacle to put their cup down, another to scroll through intergalactic daily mail, a second to bring up the buardian on a second screen, they adjusted the volume of their soothing music and finally another still to pat SF1 on the head. There were some benefits to being sentient, humanoid Jellyfish.

SF1 is a completely digital entity, any sensation between the two was synthesised through tech. Nonetheless, the turtle cutely giggled under the touch.

Charging the hybrid solar/bio engine.
While the Cutty Sark gravitated around the sun, recharging its power, Delanmyidis swam lengths of the water chamber.

They flushed soft pink, “Just like home.”

Warning!
Delanmyidis huffed. Great, now what?

Warning! Mechanical failure in the Engine Room. Bio refuelling interrupted.
Delanmyidis sighed and big fat bubbles rose to the surface, “Acknowledged.” They slid out of the water chamber down a chute so steep as to make them go, “Wheeeee!”

They shot out of the chamber in all their glory. A pink non-bipedal form where their long tentacles made up most of their height. Their brain, stomach and other organs exist in their ‘bell’. Their shorter oval arms are far stronger but less flexible than their tentacles. In many ways, they were similar to jellyfish but the human aspect had changed their body and minds.

The Captain dried off and with the swift application of space magic was able to rewire a faulty connection in the biofuel converter.

Admiral Fussypants in a display of truly rare and powerful intelligence helped by crawling into the engine and clearing the blockage. Walking out, dirty and smelly, it has to be mentioned that the Admiral was an odd cat. It was strange for any cat to be helpful, let alone to know how to clear an engine or pilot a mecha suit. It is not known just how much of a cat he is and how much he is something else.

The otherworldly cat went for a quick wash. Then the two rested together and gazed at the star until…

Refuelling cycle is complete. Shall I take us into Chnik?
“Yes, to the nearest port next to the monastery. I’ll take an Air Sub from there.”

Captain Delanmyidis left their cargo behind, in the safe keeping of automated security, to refuel their spirits and self by meeting with friends. A life spent in space ill affords many meetings in person, when they are forged the gathering is as common and precious as a warm hug.

The Admiral followed on his own whim.

Delanmyidis was stuck in the corner of a yellow submarine stuffed full of children playing together. Never had a Harnarth nor their Jellyfish and human ancestors ever looked so miffed as Delanmyidis trying to avoid the touch of icky strangers. Desperate for space, they hung like a spider’s web in the corner and loomed over the children.

Despite their worst intentions to be terrifying, the children loved the ‘silly jellyfish’. They clamoured and climbed to knock the pink sea monster down. Where force failed, tickling proved horrifying effective.

Delanmyidis fell as swan song music played in the background and a single tear poured from an eye. They crashed and were swarmed by icky but excited children.

The Captain of the Cutty Sark was exhausted as they limped out of the submarine. How a floating Haranath limps, I will leave to the imagination of the reader.

Admiral Fussypants strolled out with his subordinate after having a good nap and many loving pets by awed children.

Delanmyidis worried. They are my friends, I’ll have a cup of tea and my favourite place. It is going to be alright. I’ve done this dozens of times before. I’m having thoughts that they are going to reject me. I am noticing I am having thoughts they won’t turn up. I shouldn’t turn up. I should run away. Back to the breath.

Admiral Fussypants rubbed their warm body against the long tentacles of the Hanarth. A brief touch of comfort that brought a smile to their face.

Ahead was the Temple. The Dragon Temple monastery was built of woven stone and bark. Great living bridges of bark and vine connected the different buoyed temples. They were built on a stone and tree foundation with brick and bark walls. The growth of great bending bioluminescent trees was integrated into the stone temples by inter-generational design and care. Stone and bark were as close as the threads on a piece of string: living architecture.

The roofs were made of foliage. Further, small floating farms and airborne rivers meant the Temple was self-sufficient: able to house and feed a few hundred all year round.

Delanmyidis’ trembling slowed, and their breaths grew longer and steadier with each moment spent gazing at the stone arches and the supple bends of branches. If space was a desert of sometimes hostility and conflict then the monastery for an oasis. They did not have a single bad memory from this palace of hospitality.

It was somewhat busy with monks and a few dozen visitors. The former moved on clouds, while the latter walked, and a particular odd individual with flaming red hair rode a flying sword.

Delanmyidis wibbled wobbled through the Temple and towards the tea room, a separate island with Fussypants following at their side.

They were the first to arrive and handed over a crate of tea to an attending monk who bowed deeply in thanks and was happy to serve some. As Delanmyidis sat down one of his friends walked in.

Bling, a Giant Duck was as big as a tall horse or a large car for you modern folk, waddled in. Fortunately for Bling, the tea room was designed to be open for most known species and thus was as large as a lake with tables small enough for mice or chairs big enough for giants. Anyone could come here to receive a warm welcome and a listening ear from a tea monk.

She waved a wing and Delanmyidis waved back. When she sat down, the Admiral rested on her back and tucked beneath her large feathers.

Before they could speak, Beak walked in and drew numerous glances. He was a human man in a Mech Bunny suit that used a Virtual Reality Helmet with a resting purple neon rabbit face/sign. The Mech Bunny suit was a hybrid of still living, genetically engineered, rabbit fur and mech electronics.

No rabbit had ever been harmed because the materials had been spawned in a factory, as they can create car parts here they could create parts of living beings. The fur of a rabbit was produced and woven like it was plastic. The existence of which was more like a plant than an animal.

Why authentic rabbit fur was so important to have and not faux rabbit fur is a matter known only to that particular subculture.

Delanmyidis was not thinking about this random and obscure piece of culture, they flushed blue-green but made no sound.

Update required. No intergalactic internet access. Unable to update. Transmitter unable to function until the new update.
What?

Transmitter not functioning.
Delanmyidis flushed scarlet, “My translator seems to be malfunctioning, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” said Beak (in an Irish accent for you readers) but Delanmyidis heard not. However, lucky for our hushed Harnath, Beak’s mechanised eyes flashed green-blue patterns in the language of Unified Hanarthish.

Bling gazed deep into Delanmyidis' face and went, “Quack.”

Updated required. No intergalactic internet. Unable to update. Translator unable to function until the new update.
Delanmyidis shrivelled and became wrinkly like a prune. Why? What cursed luck they had. The only time an update happens, they just happen to be in a place without intergalactic internet access. How embarrassing.

Delanmyidis flushed blue-green, which in polymilish, one of the common space languages translated as, “I can’t seem to understand Bling. My transmitter and translator are not working.”

Bling sat down and with a wave of her wing a hole ripped open in reality and out of the black pitless abyss fell some fresh crab.

“Quack. Quack.”

Beak translated, “Yeah, let’s have the tea, crabs and I’ve brought some veggie pie and chips.”

“Alright.” flushed Delanmyidis.

The triad settled down: they feasted, drank and shared small talk. It wasn’t long before Delanmyidis complained,

“You know, I’m an agender, asexual trucker who spends most of their days flying through space and listening to podcasts.”

“Quack.”

“I just want to experience romance.”

Beak's 'face', that is his virtual reality helmet styled like a motorcycle helmet with bunny ears, flashed skull and cross bones, “Virtual furries or death.”

“But, I would rather focus on tea and informative history podcasts than listen to some stranger talk about spreadsheets or what sports team they like. I hate dating. All any of them want to do is bang and have fun with tentacles like they see in videos.”

“Quack.”

“Not everyone is aro like you or even demi like Triss.” Delanmyidis retorted though how they understood is down to the mysteries of friendship. “I don’t want to have sex, I’ll do it for a special someone but I prefer not to, especially on a first date.”

“QUACK! Quack quack quack. Quack. Quack.”

The face of an annoyed anime girl played like a gif over Beak’s face, “Bling is right, enough already at least you have a job.”

“Quack.”

Blowing fire emoji flashed, “I know you do but I don’t!” Sad face art, “All I do is play games and watch vids.” said Beak.

“You are doing you, I thought you were volunteering?”

“Oh, I am. Befriending the elderly, she is a cool old bird but that’s only an hour a week.”

“It helps, don’t it? You think civilization going to collapse because you aren’t a worker?”

“Quack.”

“I’m quite happy with civilization, Bling. Let's not destroy it. I wouldn’t get to see yous if we didn’t have ships and the like.”

“What Beak said,” Delanmyidis replied.

Bling nodded, their yellow beak shook, “Quack.”

“Wait, where is the Admiral?” asked Beak.

Bling turned her head, but the Admiral who had been resting in her feathers was gone.

Delanmyidis launched from their seats and looked around the tea room.

Bling stood up at an unfortunate moment. From a different perspective, it looked like Bling charged at a family. She barrelled over to a dog and a small child. Her wings flapping the Child’s guardian fled, taking the dog with them. The lone Child stared in wide-eyed horror at the towering, terrible Bling loomed over them.

The Child stared, tears pouring from their eyes, at the duck's beak that was big enough to swallow them whole.

Delanmyidis ran, their tentacles failing, out of the tea room searching for Fussypants.

Bling and Beak followed closely behind.

The Child latter saw a therapist.

Running across the living bridge, three thieves dressed in black and on the back of the lead runner was a black bag. Out of a black bag, poked a single fluffy tail.

Beak pointed, “There!”

“Quack!”

“After them!”

“If only I had never left the ship, my cat would be safe and not in the hands of those thieving rogues!”

Delanmyidis pulled the nearest one towards them, like the winds themselves had grabbed them and ripped back.

The robber was yanked to the stone floor by the grip of an unseen puppet master. They crashed with a yell.

Meanwhile, Beak typed rapidly on their wrist telecommunication device the way that tv hackers do and suddenly one of the robbers stopped, as a message rang out declaring, “You have won a one-way trip to Paradise! Click the link to accept the prize.”

The second robber stopped in the tracks, “Oh gee golly! I have to accept this prize.”

“Oh no!” The pair called out as one terrible Duck approached them.

Like a knight of old, Bling fought back the thieves holding them off, “Quack!”

The one, however, who carried Admiral Fussypants slipped out of her reach and bolted. The robber of beloved cats dove into a white sleek car and they flew off and then dived into the roiling waters.

Delanmyidis hailed a taxi and an iconic black taxi drove right by them, spraying seaweed all over them and soaking them to the brim. Damnation! Delanmyidis hailed again and this time an empty yellow submarine stopped and they leapt in with Beak giving the call to, “Follow that white car!”

The yellow submarine chased the white swimming car. The latter is propelled by rotors and fans and the former by fun and water magic. By sheer coincidence, they pass an epic sea battle of human harpooners fighting were-sharks. A single human spy unleashed bloody fury upon the latter group.

Such grizzly details were of little import to Delanmyidis who in a state of panic and anxiety was being forced to listen to the latest pop songs at blaring high volumes.

They follow the white car to an underground sea castle, “I’ll go alone, he is my responsibility and none this side of the galaxy can outswim a Haranath!”

Beak patted Delanmyidis and gave them a hug, “Good luck, my friend. Your gateway sub will be waiting.”

Delanmyidis, a captain of space, propelled through the water with the enhanced speed of one adept in magic. Jellyfish did not move this fast, nor did humans in water but a Hanarath, especially one with the gift of magic; yes magic that interdimensional energy that manipulates and creates reality. A blur and a breath passed as the distance shrunk and Delanmyidis arrived the Castle.

Delanmyidis had lauched with a speed closer to teleportation than a dash. A thin lattice of material and magic kept water out of the castle. Unfortunately for Delanmyidis, they were made of mostly water. They needed another way inside.

They sank and crept slowly, and like any experienced smuggler knew tricks of how to sneak in and out of secure places without raising attention to themselves. Causing the white car to crash into the bridge with the deft use of magic allowed Delanmyidis to sneak inside first without raising any undue notice.

Something calm and steady, a sort of inner peace given to a select few in time of grave danger kept Delanmyidis’s momentum forwards. Where the Captain might run out of a gathering of too many people, in trying to save a friend whom they loved more than themselves they were free from their usual emotional constraints.

They hid above like a pink spider and followed where their cat was being taken. Deep into the dungeons where for a moment the last Robber was alone.

Admiral Fussypants’ head broke free.

Before the Robber could react, the odd cat bit his wrist.

The Admiral tore himself free. He sprinted off into the darkness.

While the Robber scrambled to find where the cat went…

Delanmyidis pulled the Admiral towards them and into their safe oval arms. In the secrecy of shadows, they left without having raised the alarm.

Beak was waiting, keeping a lookout. He stopped incoming eyes from being aware of Delanmyidis’ leaving with timely hacking but it would not be enough. A call went out to report failure and it reached welcoming ears.

Jellyfish and Cat swam into the yellow submarine and then flew back to the Cutty Sark where they fled Chnik alive. An oasis of safeness had been marred by genuine danger and now not even their ship and home felt secure anymore. Sadly, these feelings of worry unbeknownst to Delanmyidis had greater merit than they knew.

Out of the darkness a ship bearing the white paint of Liberta stalked the Cutty Sark.