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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/luckydayned on 2024-12-23 17:12:38+00:00.
Alex had been aboard the Darmi’s Pride for only a fortnight and the crew were already wrapped around the human’s fingers. As the latest arrival to the galactic stage, humans were not particularly impressive technologically. Their militaries posed no real threat, and they were dirt poor compared to their galactic neighbors. They walked onto the political stage with everyone else playing with loaded dice, deep pockets, and a bigger stick to back it all up. So, what could we bring to the table to compete in such a ruthless environment? We had seen worse and done worse to each other in every way. We were used to playing unfair. The only thing that kept our irrational minds into focus is speech. The gift given only to us until we had reached the stars. We gibbering monkeys are quite good at it in fact. What we didn’t know, was that we were the best.
No other species communicated verbally at the extent that humans do, so Alex had put this to work. Because in the warfare of conversation, where wit is your main armament, you must come armed to the teeth. Alex could out-fox all of the crew, including the captain, with ease. You see, talks can turn into tall tales and outright lies if humans get the chance. Deception combined humor had gotten Alex a promotion and raise.
Often Alex wondered how the other humans were doing in their respective fields. Lawyers seemed to be devouring galactic law like a fat kid eats cake. There were so many contradictions in the long history of the galactic community that any good argument could get you just about anything you wanted. The corporations were having a field day. Orion Mining Corp had argued based on religious law that the Alintak, Alnilam and, Mintaka star systems were ours by divine right, and it worked…
Stargazing hobbyists became valuable consultants for governments and businesses alike. You might think that pilots caught the next big windfall? You might be wrong. It turns out that you don’t need pilots when you demand transportation upon the basis of a religious exodus/pilgrimage. Humans didn’t need to advance FTL technology because they could claim that these holy places had been violated and that the offending species needed to provide compensation for damages. So, travel was pretty much free anywhere you wanted to go.
And who would attack the newest species? No one would. I mean what are you going to do? Punch down at the little guy? Where is the honor in that? Diplomats couldn’t believe how easy it was to make peace. So, Alex was a diplomat, disguised as a priest (I think Egyptian this time?), working on behalf of 3 governments and no less than 14 corporations, impersonating an officer and about 300 lightyears in over their head. Alex thrived in the chaos. How many lies and stories went into maintaining the charade was one for the ages. Alex had heard that one husband and wife had talked their way onto the imperial throne of a whole star nation. Demigods, if you believe the newest propaganda coming from that corner of the cosmos.
Alex wasn’t that ambitious, that seemed like a bit too much work for one person to maintain. A master bullshitter Alex was, but not a savant. Besides what is the purpose of pulling something like that off if there is no one to share it with or tell it to?
The captain was firmly in the belief that humans, Alex in particular, could start or stop any argument at any time. On one hand, the crew had never run so smoothly, on the other, he wasn’t sure if they really saw him as the captain anymore. Alex knew that by tomorrow the captainship of the vessel would pass into human hands through the democratic assemblage of the crew, spontaneously I assure you. This was just the way things went sometime. At the end of the voyage Alex would just have to gracefully surrender the position back to the captain and then rinse repeat anywhere a ship came and went that Alex wanted to go.
The galaxy was full of fresh life, untasted by humans, and Alex was determined to drink as much of it in as possible. Compliments worked wonders. Any food you wanted to try, that was compatible with human physiology, was always freely given in the name of cultural exchange. If someone actually tried to charge you currency for something you could always just haggle them down to a favor or any old piece of junk that had been blessed to bring prosperity. The number of rags to riches stories that Alex had made up was starting to get quite long, but the tab never did. Drinks were always free for the right combination of compliments, stories, and again, outright lies. Alex was starting to think that all of this would start giving humans a bad name. The intricate web would collapse in on itself and suddenly be trapped in one of those rare tight spots. Even if it happened, Alex could talk their way out of a prison cell. Error is the death of eloquence and Alex was a hardened perfectionist.
Does that mean that the end of the adventure was near or was this only the beginning? Alex liked to think that every day was the middle, another chapter that others had been falling in and out of. Tomorrow would be another good day.