INTERSTELLAR SPACE—BRAXTON’S STARSHIPProzell Squzon opened his eyes slowly. He hurt all over, even in places he had forgotten he had. He was on the deck of some kind of operations center filled with monitors and control consoles. A strange-looking humanoid stood before him, five-fingered hands on its hips. It was oddly thin and tall with puffy lips and a pointed nose. Its head was covered with brown hair, much like his. Clearly, some kind of mammalian ancestry, Squzon deduced. Several similar creatures stood around the chamber.
The strange creature addressed Squzon in his native language, Frohlican. “I am a human,” (it used the same word that Squzon used for himself), “from the star system your fleet just attacked, and from which you escaped as the only survivor. We are on our way to your home world and will arrive,” it checked an instrument, “in about four-and-a-half Frohlican days.” It used Frohlican duodecimal numbers, although probably, the creature normally calculated in base ten. “Unlike your relativistic craft,” it said, “this ship is superluminal.”
FTL—I should be frightened for me and my race, Squzon thought, but right now, I’m more curious.
“If you promise not to touch anything, I will not restrain you.” The creature’s mouth curved upward, and it showed its teeth.
I’ve got nothing to lose, Squzon thought. “I promise,” he said, meaning it.