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Feeling unsure of what proper etiquette in this situation would remotely look like, you leaned over and signaled Van to get her attention.
<span class="mu-r">“Psst! Vic! How am I supposed to eat this?”</span>
You whispered. At first, Van didn’t seem to realize that you were talking to her, and she kept merrily slurping some viscous liquid from her shell. After a few more seconds of desperate signaling, she finally turned her head to regard you. You glanced between her and the plant, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself in the process.
She seemed to understand your predicament, because she placed her shell on the table and gave you a discreet nod. Then, she sat back in her chair and closed her eyes.
You frowned at her. What was she-
—------
A field of semi-crystalline flower-like structures surrounds you from all sides, looming over you so as to provide you with shade while you consume their local delicacy. And while the flowers didn’t have faces, you got the distinct impression that they were staring down at you expectantly, waiting to hear what you had to say about it. This was their way of expressing their gratitude for your help in diverting that cosmic storm from stripping away their atmosphere.
You weren’t really expecting a reward, but this planet’s native species wouldn’t take no for an answer. Plus, you couldn’t exactly fly off while the Voyager was conducting self-repairs. Without your assistance, it would be back in flying shape in about three or four hours. Until then, you had no other options that didn’t involve stranding yourself or leaving your ship behind, and that was unacceptable.
You stared down at the hefty crimson flower in your lap. Its petals were slowly unfurling, and it sounded like several slabs of hard plastic sheets scraping against each other. It even felt like you were holding a jug of water, rather than something that was supposedly edible.
You gave the flowers around you a skeptical look, and their shape changed to reflect their insistence. On their leaves, there were tiny holes opening up that created a variety of whistling sounds when the wind blew through them. You assumed that this was their version of speech, but it was so obscure and unlike anything you’d ever heard that your auto-translator implant was being stretched to its limit.
But true understanding only came when you reached into their minds and re-lived their memories from their perspective. This was a dish that they only offered to travelers, as it was about the only thing they knew how to make that was both edible and palatable to travelers.
The way that they perceived the world was truly alien to you, and the difference between their thought process and your own was so different that it nearly gave you a splitting headache. You pulled back as soon as you found what you were looking for.
(Cont.)