A Little Incident at the Space Shack

I won’t lie to you, folks, when that son of a gun called me a human lover, I nearly lost my cool. Yes, I had a few drinks that day, but that was infuriating in any state of consciousness. Not that I don’t like my human ancestors- they created us for goodness sake- but an insult is an insult.

Logan, you might ask, what were you doing at the Space Shack to begin with? That place is a den of galactic ruffians.

Let’s just say I'm running a few errands to Leonardo station, which is three quarters of the way to Mars, so I thought I would stop to replenish supplies and get a lay of the sector, if you know what I mean. You never know when a rumour is going to come in handy.

There were a few Sirians hanging out at the Shack, newly arrived from the Oort portal, so they were being particularly ebullient. You know how they are, start talking all high and mighty about this and that. Buddy kept going on about space and spatial reasoning, and how his species had developed a high technological civilization because of this Sigil Abstraction or some stuff like that. Superior geometric intuition, he called it. Allowed the Sirians to spread successfully across the galaxy while Terrans were still stuck in the solar system unable to handle the quick spatial displacements necessary for long distance travel. A weak trait inherited from humans, he said, who were poor navigators themselves and could never handle displacements "in any axis. Harr! Harr! Harr!"

He was loud about it too, so we could all bask in his Sirian wisdom. Others heckled him and told him to be quiet. Me and my crew were just chilling, minding our business, but then he turned around and asked me what I thought about the matter.

I tell you, folks. At this point in my life, all I want to do is relax and run my errands among the colonies. I don’t have the time or desire to get into arguments with an extra-terrestrial smuggler who looks like Chewbacca.

So what did I tell him? I simply raised my glass and told him, “long live the simians.”

Oh boy. He didn’t like that, I tell you. The room went quiet when he stood up.

And he was like, “What did you mean by that?”

“Look, buddy,” I say to him. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but that’s your trip. If that’s how you understand things, then more power to you. But we all know there’s plenty of evidence that the type of thinking you’re talking about is common across the galaxy.”

He started clapping with a loud fake laugh.

“Well, well, well,” he said in a mocking tone. “Listen to you. You almost sound human. And why shouldn’t you? They did create your kind, after all, didn’t they? It’s only normal you would have a soft spot for them. Right, human lover?”

To my credit, I didn’t throw the first punch. I just activated my projector and showed him this little holographic beauty that we all know and love.

“That study was biased!” he shouted and pounded on the table. “The premises were wrong to begin with, you dim-witted monkey!”

He was shouting in my face, folks, wagging his fat furry finger in front of me. I bet under all that fur his face was big time red.

“Look,” I told him. “That study clearly shows a continuity of spatial reasoning between Terran and Sirian primates. Whether you like it or not, we’re all a big happy simian family, my Sasquatch friend.”

That’s when he launched himself at me, and all hell broke loose in the bar. He was with two other Sirians- a Taurean ready for a fight, and a Galian who looked like he would rather be somewhere else but had a few good moves on him.

Toki, Molland, and I took care of business, but I tell you, we left with a few bruises. Thankfully, after reviewing the interaction, they let us go with "just a warning this time".

Who in the galaxy do they think they are? Yea, the Sirians are an advanced space-faring civilization but clearly the geometric abilities required for space travel were just a matter of degrees between species- quantity not quality. I guess they haven’t come to terms with the findings that our species are closely related in spite of evolving light years apart.

Look, I don’t know how the universe works, and I don’t concern myself with those matters. Above my pay grade, I like to say. I know that humans created us with these advanced thinking capacities, and for that I’m thankful. I leave it at that. There’s no need to come and insult my ancestors without whom I wouldn’t be here. That right there is where I draw the line.

In any case, Leonardo station is just up ahead. I gotta focus on the landing because the brand new automatic pilot stopped responding to my prompts, so now I gotta do it manually. Haha! Go figure. I tell you, these are the moments that make me wonder if those snooty Sirians may have a point after all. Ah well, as my human ancestors used to say, c'est la vie.