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"The captain is dead." There is no phrase worse to hear on a starship deep in uncharted space than those four words. The captain hadn't quite gone down in a blaze of glory, like all those science fiction books from our past would have you believe. There was no alien invasion of the ship, or parasitic plague or anything to break that particular day's routine, even.

"How did she die?" I found myself asking the ship's doctor that morning. Like the rest of the staff, I had dressed in my finest silk dress uniform. The expensive white fabric skirts fell around my feet, playing over my thighs with a softness that was almost completely unfamiliar. I glanced into the casket, a simple affair if there ever was one. Built from black, polished wood, it was nothing more than an unadorned box. The body of the captain sat within, looking as stiff and self important in death as she had in life. Her face looked like cold porcelain, fragile, expensive and aloof... I could almost feel her accusing eyes upon me.

"She choked on a pretzel."

My mouth simply opened and closed in disbelief at this statement. Quickly I looked back and forth from the doctor to the captain and back again. I must have looked like one of the Koi fish the captain had kept in one of the tanks in her quarters. I wondered what would happen to the fish.

The captain had looked tired, even death couldn't quite erase that look of exhaustion that marred her otherwise perfect face. Most of the crew felt she wasn't sleeping well, but I thought that it went a bit deeper than that. A person, human or yeou, could only travel to the surface of an alien world so many times, could only end up in bed with so many tribal aliens, and get infected with a parasite so many times. Even the number of times that she had yelled at me had been low of late. No... the pretzel had just been the release of a long-exhausted adventurer.

"So... did you get the pretzel out?" There was no reply to my question, other than a glare from the doctor. That was part of the problem of not being human; I lacked something that the humans on the ANS _Nightingale_called 'tact'. It wasn't just me that acted this way of course; about half the crew probably was busing with a question not all that different from the one that had left my mouth. We weren't human, we were yeou. It had been about 80 years since we established first contact, I was only about ten at the time, but I remember the day vividly enough.

I had been a temple acolyte back then, one of my seven sisters had been braiding the fur of my six tails when news broke over the homeworld. Holographic panels all over the planet proclaimed to have found an "alien probe", encountered by one of our deep space satellites. It didn't tell us very much about the culture that the probe had originated from... other than that they had a very poor taste in music. I listened to a few of the recordings; they could have used more drums. Regardless, it was a simple matter for our scientists to trace the trajectory of the probe back to it's point of origin, a small blue planet orbiting a yellow star with a single moon. Of course, our first actual contact with humanity went rather poorly, there was a lot of fighting... a lot of interspecies fucking, and just about everything in between.

Taking one last look at the doctor, I slipped away through the crowd. He was young, even for a human, a head of short-cropped dark hair covered his head, and narrowed hazel eyes stared out at me from his decidedly upsetting face. Unlike the vast majority of the crew, he wasn't dressed in his finery for the captain's funeral; rather he had just never even bothered changing out of his medbay scrubs. I was glad to distance myself from him. As I bumped shoulders with the rest of the crew of the ship, I couldn't help but wonder if it had really been the pretzel that had done in the good Captain. That wasn't to say that pretzels were innocent, my first encounter with the human snack food had been something of a near death experience. A horrible flash of memory filed my mind as I was reminded of the dangers of the jagged pieces of hardened dough going down wrong.

Reaching the edge of the cargo bay, I happened to catch my own reflection in the polished metal of one of the bulkheads. I looked like the standard example of my species. A pair of bright golden eyes stared back out at me, framed by an angular, feminine face... feminine by human standards, my kind wasn't particularly known for being the most sexual dimorphic. I had lost track of the number of times a human male had fallen for a yeou thinking he was pursuing a flat chested girl, only to find out that the target of his affection was male. My tall, slender body was wrapped in a sleeveless dress, white silk and embroidered with a deep blue, and my six bottlebrush black tails tied with blue ribbons near the tip. Every yeou had tails, as many as nine in all or as few as one. The number of "fox-like" tails an individual had was determined by their genetics, and in our society, determined their place in a caste system. I was a six-tail yeou, therefore my purpose in life was to be a priestess and a diplomat. Aside from the tails and our androgyny, humans looked surprisingly like us... to the point that many yeou had thought that the first contact news was actually a promotion for a cheesy sci-fi film.

For the funeral I had tied my long black hair for this occasion into a braid; it always baffled me that humans didn't style their hair for mourning. A glance around the cargo bay of the ship revealed the other yeou had worn their hair in a similar manner. I had once been told by a human from someplace called "Vee-et-nam" that my formal dress looked like somewhat like an "ao dai"... this meant nothing to me, however.

"Ji'Myung." I felt a hand upon my shoulder, and glancing into the bulkhead once more, I noticed the reflection of another yeou behind me. I turned around, raising my hand in salute to my superior. He was a handsome example of our race, with fair skin blonde hair, and nine-impeccably groomed fluffy tails.

"Y-yes, Gi'Kyung," I replied in an awkward stutter. He was a member of the nine-tailed caste. Even if the caste system of my people had been 'officially' abolished on the joint Human-Yeou ANS Nightingale, the yeou still practiced it anyways. To look at a candidate for the yeou throne, even one as far down the line as Gi'Kyung, was a great honor. It didn't help matters that he was cute.

"I don't understand why these humans are so sad."

That is so ethnocentric. I cringed at the comment, "Yeah, me top, it's so weird!" I cringed at my own comment, my traitorous mouth leaping to agree with the pretty noble before my brain had a chance to calculate.

"I thought I was the only one..." he sighed giving me a soft smile, "I was wondering if-"

Get coffee with a yeou three castes beneath you? I returned his smile happily, having decidedly gone full idiot. "I'll do it~"

"-you would dance for us in a few days. I'm organizing the yeou of the ship to hold a real send off for the captain a couple days from now. All I've heard since I came on the ship was how great your firecracker dance is and..." The noble began to prattle on about a party and a _proper_memorial for the captain. It was the yeou tradition to send off a soul with a party as loud and as flashy as possible, humans would best define such a party as a way to 'celebrate an individual's life', but in reality it was much more than that. The tradition existed all the way back to the first empress, before the yeou homeworld was fully unified, and before even the first space age technology emerged. The celebration officially marked an end to grieving. The closest relation I could think of was the memorial would be a cathartic release.

For a time I mingled amongst the crew, my eyes settling upon humans and yeou alike. The groups of yeou and humans didn't mingle well; our cultures never seemed to mesh well to begin with. Humanity valued freedom, mobility between classes, individuality; we value the family and tradition above all else, what caste you are born into determines your life. My people are a matriarchy; the perception of a non-caste based patriarchal-egalitarian society was probably just as much of a fantasy story to us, as we were to them. Our religions were also just too different, it made relating with the only other sentient culture in this part of the galaxy... difficult.

"Kitsune." I turned on the spot at the derogatory name to find myself face to face with the doctor again, his smirking face filling my vision. My left "fox-like" ear twitched in anger at the insult.

"I see your bedside manners are no less charming in person than they are in the medical wing. Did you wish for something, or are you just going to keep throwing mythological and racist comparisons at me?" Ever since I was assigned to this particular ship, I could not help but wonder how the doctor had gotten the job. He lacked experience often desired on such deep space survey ships, not to mention he was far from pleasant to both yeou and his own kind. I tried to put on a small polite smile, and failed. His actual name was Aydin, but everybody just called him 'Doctor'... refusing to acknowledge him, as a person with a name seemed to make dealing with him less painful. Somewhat.

"I want you to put a stop to the grief-party." he smiled softly as he spoke, a smile, which showed more teeth than mirth.

"You want me to stop the yeou crew... from grieving?" I raised an eyebrow, "Why would I do that?"

"My dear, I felt if anybody would understand my sentiment, it would be you." he took a step forward, I took a step back, cringing as I bumped into an ensign in my attempt to distance myself from the predatory doctor.

"And what would give you that fine idea?"

"Because, you are a priestess, it is your job to understand about culture," he reached out, placing a slender hand upon my shoulder. Even before I felt the weight of his icy-cold appendage, I felt my skin beginning to crawl. His voice was halting and unpleasant to listen to, it always sounded as if he was holding some information back, or just generally scheming something. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was planning on ruining the captain's memorial, she had threatened to throw him out an airlock a few times. "I don't have to tell you how disruptive the grieving process is for the yeou. Productivity will grind to a halt for the next two days while you... foxes party and dance and drink yourselves into a coma."

"Productivity be damned, is that all you can think of?" I brushed his hand off of my shoulder, for some reason the clammy feeling of his hand upon the silks of my dress remained. I made a mental note to have it cleaned at the first chance possible, possibly with fire. "We have the right to grieve in our own way. Do you not think that this misery-fest is baffling us as well?"

"Let me put it this way-"

"I'm really not interested-"

"-humans don't respond well to a perceived mockery of the dead. The captain is human, if the human crew sees the Yeou partying in the halls for the next couple days, what do you think that will say about your people?"

"Look doctor, I don't care what you have to say," my voice came slow, lingering on each syllable. I felt as if I was drawing attention from my fellow yeou, but at this point I didn't care. I scowled at him, displaying my anger, despite the social taboo that it broke. The fur on my six tails bristled angrily, my sharp teeth gritted and shown as I glared at the inflammatory human. "If you want to infringe on our rights, do it yourself, don't expect me to do the work for you!"

Flustered and angry I stormed from the cargo hold, wishing I could slam the automatic doors behind me. What hurt the most was the doctor had a point.

---***---

The door to my quarters slide open with an annoyingly cheerful whirl, yet another reminder that slamming the door was not only not a socially acceptable outlet for my frustration, but also impossible. "How did the funeral go?" a voice greeted me cheerfully. Sighing in frustration, I walked into the room to be greeted by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. The eyes of course, were connected to a very human looking face. In my mind at least, it was far too round, it reminded me far too much of a child's face. An adult's face should have angles! Far too many humans were far too round... and not just their face. A mop of short-cropped blonde hair covered her head. She once had called it a pixie cut. Frankly, this info meant little to me; I knew not what a pixie was, or why it would do something so awful to a person's hair. I assumed that she was supposed to be attractive, given how a good deal of the crew swooned over her, but I just couldn't see it.

"It's a human-funeral, take a guess, Alexis. No firecrackers, no drinking, just lots of boring people crying or pretending to look sad," I commented grumpily as I crossed the room to flop myself down in a strategically placed beanbag chair, my tails fanning out behind me. It wasn't long before my roommate tried to engage me in conversation, about the funeral, who went, who didn't, who was probably going to be 'grieving' with whom this evening. I felt my mouth move, but my mind was already on a permanent tea break. The room itself was pretty crammed. All of the quarters, save for those of the senior staff, tended to be like this. It was two people to a room, one yeou, one human, I suppose it was to help improve relationships with "the aliens", but thus far the only result I'd heard of was either cultural misunderstandings, or lots and lots of kinky casual sex. Oftentimes both, at the same time.

Originally the ANS_Nightingale_ could house a crew of three hundred, and at the start of the mission, it had done just that. However, over the months the ANS _Nightingale_had been on mission, the crew had shrunk down considerably to about 220. It wasn't unexpected for people to die on missions like this; it was practically part of the job description when you set foot on an alien world, after all.

Most people died in ways that were just stupid as well. I had lost count of the number of crew who, on away missions, had fallen in pools of acid, been infected with some strange alien parasite, been disemboweled by a hungry alien predator... the list of unfortunate accidents was a long one. I was fortunate in that as a member of the priestly caste, my sole purpose on away missions was for ritual significance or diplomacy missions. I had had my fair share of close encounters too, however. The last thing you wanted was a human xeno-anthropologist poking too closely at an alien tribal group. Just because a civilization hadn't figured out how to make a laser gun didn't mean they were harmless.

"I talked to Gi'kyung today," I stated suddenly, finally having heard enough of Alexis's endlessly obnoxious prattling. Alexis fell silent, and my cheeks flushed red at the memory of the cute noble. I turned to find Alexis leaning over me, her expression hungry for details. I looked away, my eyes roaming over the tanned 'leather-like' walls of the ship. I had always thought the ship looked a bit like a big leather couch.

"Did he ask you out?" she asked, probing for details when I didn't reply right away.

"Why would he ask me out? He is male, he is supposed to wait for a girl to ask him out."

"Why is he supposed to wait? Did you ask him out?"

"Because..." I didn't bring up that I wanted him to ask me out, even if it wasn't right to expect him to do so. "Why do you want to know?"

"You brought it up. So... what happened?" she prodded again, never once getting frustrated that I had not yet explained.

Slowly I got up, pacing over to my bed, a tangled mess of red and white silk sheets, before flopping down into it. Casting a glance back at my roommate, I pulled the sheets over my head, pooling my tails around me. "He just wanted me to dance at some Yeou grief party."

"And you are upset about this chance to show off for this noble you are always mentioning in hushed tones... why?"

Slowly I looked out from beneath my sheets at my alien roommate. I imagine I must have appeared like a scared animal, hiding among the brush. I felt annoyed that Alexis was continually probing for more details that I didn't quite want to give. I glared at her from beneath the sheets. "The doctor is convinced that the party is going to create a schism in the ship and wants me to prevent it..."

Alexis disappeared from my vision, and a second later I was greeted by the sound of creaking bedsprings, and a weight not far from where I lay. Suddenly I felt a hand upon my back, slowly rubbing up and down my spine. The physicality of the touching between two strangers in such a manner was a taboo, but it felt nice to be touched and comforted, so I said nothing. "The doctor is a xenophobic misanthropist." Alexis commented, a second hand found my back, beginning to work out a kink, despite the awkward position she must have been sitting in. "Nothing would make him happier than to see a schism in the crew. If you want my opinion-"

"I don't." She stopped rubbing my back. Back rubs are the worst and most devious of human seduction techniques. Receiving one from a stranger was a serious breach... but Alexis, as annoying as she was, was fairly good, "Fine, what's your opinion?" The hand returned, and I returned to zoning out.

"The doctor is right about one thing, if anything is going to divide this crew, it is a cultural misunderstanding. I don't think that stopping the yeou from grieving is right, and if it is, as a priestess it shouldn't be you to condemn your cultural practice..." I could imagine Alexis chewing on her lower lip, it was the sort of thing that she always does when thinking too hard. Alexis always struck me as an interesting character, half the time she was a vapid idiot... and then occasionally, out of nowhere, she offered something deeply insightful. I often wondered just how much she actually knew, and if she was just acted stupid. "I feel the mistake is to make this event something of a yeou only affair. When this ship was planned, our governments didn't want the crew to think of themselves as two separate people, but as one. That is why it is one human to one yeou in every room, is it not?"

My long triangular ears perked up at this suggestion. Slowly I poked my head out from under the blankets to look at her. "Do you really think it's just going to be as easy simply explaining why we celebrate and inviting them in?"

"Why not? Besides... even if you do stop the celebration, do you think that the captain's death is going to be the last time there is a funeral on this ship?" Alexis smiled, waiting. "The crew needs an understanding of one another's culture... not a band-aid solution."

I rolled over, closing my eyes. "Whatever..."

"Gi'Kyung might be happy if the party is a success." her words hung in the air, and I knew she had me.

---***---

The next few days were a complete blur. I felt like a ball stuck in a game of Saeloun gong. Constantly I was bouncing back and forth between Alexis and Gi'Kyung, trying to help them plan the party and pass along information. Alexis insisted on making posters, and designing the decorations, Gi'Kyung didn't like it that a human wanted to do a masculine job like the interior decorating. The entire time I spent dodging the doctor's attempts to convince me the party was a terrible idea... and more or less failing terribly.

On more than one occasion the doctor cornered me in the most awkward of places, the cafeteria during meals, during a physical with his icy hand on my stomach... in the bathroom. To be fair, I had walked into the men's room because I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking. By the night of the party, I was convinced the doctor was stalking me.

---***---

Slowly I stepped out into the cargo hold. The cargo holds of the ANS Nightingale tended to be used more for performances such as the one I was about to put on than they really were for cargo... or at least, cargo hold 2 tended to be used for performances and other matters. The reasoning was simple; the cargo hold was the most wide-open area in the entire ship. The ceiling was high; there was a lot of room, a catwalk on the second floor even allowed for balcony seating. I was particularly fond of this cargo hold myself, for some reason the acoustics in the area were just slightly better than anywhere else on the ship.

The cargo-hold this time had been heavily decorated. Red silk banners, emblazoned in gold with the symbols of the yeou faith hung from the rafters and the catwalk. The symbol was simple, a golden sun rising over the ocean. Plenty of other red and white silk banners had been hung about. An altar had been erected in the center of the room, just before a large octagonal dais. This altar held a number of things: candles, flowers, and gifts directly for the dead. The gifts themselves would be burned at the end of the ceremony as a way of sending them to the dead captain. Most importantly, in the center of the altar was a picture of the captain. The picture that had been chosen of the captain was rather unfortunate looking in my opinion; it made the deceased woman look like she was permanently scowling, although that was more or less true.

Somebody had dragged a number of tables into the hold, and already there was a growing banquet of food. The price of admission to the memorial was a traditional affair: to be allowed to 'grieve' in the party, you had to bring a dish or some food. It was a simple matter, but it showed appreciation for the dead, and in the end, no culture could turn down the idea of free food. It wasn't long before the gifts began to pile up, homemade meals, fresh fruit, candy, other baked goods, junk food, and a wide array of alcohol all made it onto the tables. I was pleased to note that pretzels were not among the baked goods.

What came as a surprise to me was the vast amount of human goods that found their way onto the banquet tables alongside the standard yeou fair of food and beverages. Of course, I knew whom I had to blame. Sure enough, looking out among the crowd I spotted my overly eager roommate. I scowled as she gave me the thumbs up sign. The crowd was, as I began to take note, not just composed of yeou, but as the banquet table had betrayed, nearly half of the audience was in fact, human. To be truthful, I was sure that the entire crew of the Nightingale had ended up crammed into the cargo hold.

"Alexis!" I hissed, drawing her over, "What happened? I thought you were only going to invite a few people?"

"Well... I tried telling only a few people... but..."

"You told everybody you ran into in the hallways and told them to pass it on, didn't you?"

"Yes..."

"Gai'jeli!?" I swore in yeouese. "Why did you do that? Do you want to prove the doctor right!?"

"You are going to be dancing with fireworks, who _wouldn't_want to watch that?"

"I hate you." Getting up I paced back to the center of the stage, waiting to begin.

---***---

Gingerly I stepped out onto the dais, and instantly a hush fell over the crowd. I felt the soft silks of my white veil brush against my mouth, an artificial wind run the long strands of my hair. I had changed clothes from earlier into ceremonial robes for just this occasion. The _uisig-yong_was a long ceremonial robe designed specifically for this occasion. Composed of three layers, alternating in red and white, folded over one another, it was meant to be both protective, warding against burns, while remaining light-weight. With long, voluminous sleeves and skirts, I felt the outfit flow around me with every step. Around my ankles, wrists, and tied to each of my six tails was a small golden bell. With every step I took, a small symphony of chimes filled the silent air.

Somebody dimmed the lights in the cargo hold, and before me the vast audience faded away. Nearby braziers had been lit, the scent of incense smoke filled the air, and with it came a familiarity and a sense of comfort I had not felt since I first was assigned to the ship. My bare feet slid over the polished wooden floor of the platform as I readied myself.

In each hand I held the end of a long ribbon of small red cylinders, packed with blessed explosives. Somewhere beyond the veil of darkness, I heard the slow steady beating of a drum, my cue to start. Slowly at first I began to move, matching the gentle pacing of the drum, placing one foot in front of another. Three steps forward, a step to the right. Slowly I twirled the twin strings of explosives around me. A second drum soon joined the beat, a low rumble beginning to grow in the cargo hold, and my pace quickened. More steps were added to the dance, more often I would twirl the ribbon around myself. Before long a third and fourth drum were added, each unique in its rhythm, yet the beating added to the complexity of the noise, rather than simply being chaotic.

Rapidly now I danced to the edge of the platform. A twirl spun my body around, and the tip of one of the ribbons caught briefly in one of the braziers, then the other. The fuse was lit, and I spun back to the center. The drums picked up the beat my feet joined the drumming. _Stomp, stomp, stomp, stomp. Stomp. _ Faster and faster. My body shook as a series of loud bangs began to resound throughout my dance chamber, cracks, which shook the very air and made it seem as if space itself were being rent apart. Still I spun, twirling the exploding ribbon around, over my head then back down near my feet. Every twirl was an array of light, a dazzling display of fire, and noise, and music. Every flash illuminated my face, reflected off my golden eyes in the dark of the room. A high kick threw up the skirt of the robe, the bells on my body chiming, louder and louder. Still I moved, faster and faster. It reached an overwhelming volume, a roar which seemed to shake the entire ship, growing louder and louder until finally, and abruptly...

...silence.

I came to a stop, collapsing, exhausted, spent upon the platform, my petite chest heaving from the effort. Above me, on the catwalk people watch, below me in the audience, people watched me. Everywhere there was silence. Slowly, I climbed to my feet, and regarded the crowd, then, dropping the spent ribbon, I took a bow.

The crowd roared, yeou and human alike.

---***---

The party that came after the performance was one I would remember for the rest of my long life. Despite my fears, Alexis had proven to be right; in the end all it took was a party, and open-mindedness for everyone to get along. Of course, it was always my personal theory that dancing with fireworks helped a good deal as well. In the end, it actually established a new tradition on the ship, much to the doctor's eternal displeasure. The first night after somebody died, the shipped mourned, holding a traditional human ceremony and send off... and then four nights later, the yeou tradition came into effect, and the sorrow of the loss was washed away in booze, and snacks (never pretzels), and dancing and song.

After having performed the dance, and having drunk a few too many drinks, I finally plucked up my courage to ask out Gi'Kyung... he refused, as I expected him to do so. I was far too below him in rank to date him anyways... However, that same night I left early with Alexis, who I will report, did in fact buy me that cup of coffee.