Jasmine lay on the soft cream cushion, staring up at a featureless white ceiling.

Her eyes were stinging, throat swollen, cheeks sticky with tears and dog slobber.

But she was smiling.

The feeling of rain continued to soothe her nerves, a refreshing chill to calm the heat of her shame. Sigi had curled up beside her, head on her lap as the human continuously petted her.

“(Rain, rain, go away, come again another day, all the world is waiting for the sun….)” her voice choked. “(Hey girl… you doing okay? Sorry I scared you - things are a little tense right now, what with the overwhelming sense of insecurity and panic...)” The translator relayed her thoughts out into the open and Jasmine sighed. “(God damn, what am I going to do?)”

The dog gave her a forlorn look.

“(How long do you think we’ve been laying here?... Probably been a good hour or so…)” Jasmine turned her attention to the rest of the room.

Xant’s living quarters were strangely devoid of personal effects. Apart from the rug, cushions and gigantic terrarium, there was little else that separated it from her own room. The cushions (calling them bean bags felt a little unprofessional) were made from the same fabric as the rug, thick embroidery-like thread woven in contrasting and intricate patterns. She wondered if, like the writing on the white walls, there were colours she couldn't see. A pattern in the rug unknown to her. Was this an important rug? A comfort from home? Did he pick it up from an intergalactic market? GC Amazon? Space Ikea? Maybe it fell off the back of a spaceship and Xant was a thrifty kinda guy. “(Why would anyone throw this out? Give it a quick dry clean and it’s a perfectly good rug! I’m keeping this!)”

She chuckled at the thought.

But Xant wasn’t like that.

He was trying his best to put her at ease, to give her as much information as she could handle at a time, both of them out of their depth when it came to the other.

She turned her head, seeing the large, endearing alien out cold on his desk. The only movement out of him was the rise and fall of his breathing.

“(Xant? Are you awake?)” She called, but to no answer, not even a twitch. She cast her eyes back down to Sigi. “(I really did a number on him huh? Hope he’s okay.)” Jasmine shook her head. She couldn’t be thinking about that now, it would only make her cry again, she needed a distraction. Something, anything-

Her stomach gave a low growl.

Good enough.

“Mini meat snacks.” She patted Sieglinde's back “Come on, I'm sure you're hungry too.”

Sigi pulled back from Jasmine and allowed her to get up. She groaned and stretched before walking over the the meal dispenser nestled between the terrarium and the so called ‘shower’.

“Produce sustenance ration.” Jasmine stated to the machine.

“Request acknowledged, state desired option.”

“Wait, what?!” She’d never been asked to choose what she wanted to eat. The damn machine always spit out the same thing, Waurdess Ah’tau, which were small squares of a meat-textured food product. She had been chewing down that stuff for the last three weeks.

“Request acknowledged, state desired option.” The dispenser repeated.

Jasmine took a moment to appreciate the beauty of that word.

Options.

Finally, she was going to be able to choose what she wanted instead of accepting what was given to her.

“Please list stated options!” she almost shouted with excitement, reeling it in as best she could.

“Available options are:

Waurdess Taasai

Waurdess Shhai

Waurdess Ah’tau

Aksi’chta

Titkian’chta

Siku’chta

Min’chta”

Jasmine liked biltong as much as the next person but she was ready to try the exciting new menu, edible or not.

“Waurdess Shhai.” She recited after requesting that the machine repeat the new dishes names over a few times.

“State desired portion size.”

Jasmine let out another small squeal.

“Small! Small portion size.”

The machine gave a small, quiet ping!

And then the ‘meal’ was lowered down from whatever mechanism held it in storage. A small plastic bowl filled with a meat-red paste was placed in front of her, a disposable Chinese-style spoon beside it. The first entree didn’t inspire much confidence, it was essentially the same meat product, except now it was ground into a paste and cooked even less.

“Hey Sigi, this one’s for you…” Jasmine placed the bowl on the ground for the dog, who took the hint and began wolfing it down. “Please list available options,”

Next on the list was Waurdess Taasai, and Jasmine looked on concerned. Waurdess, she worked out, was the type of meat most commonly used on the station, Ah’tau, was jerky, Shhai, was paste, Taasai, then, was the equivalent of sashimi. Three finger sized slabs of raw meat lay in neat little rows on the plate. That too, was added to Sigi’s bowl. Defeated, Jasmine then ordered the Ah’tau, just incase the next meals weren’t any more appetizing.

“Aksi’chta,” Jasmine requested, pronouncing the unfamiliar word as best she could. “Small portion.”

The machine ping-ed and another small bowl was presented to her, this time it was much more promising. It was a sort of green and red swirl paste, but not nearly as unappealing as the Shhai. It was a glossy pesto, and she could smell the flavours permeating from the small chamber. She dipped the spoon into the sauce and brought it up to the tip of her tongue. Jasmine let out an audible moan, it was an unusual mix of fresh ground mint, roasted hazelnuts, the slightest hint of cilantro, with just enough salt to make it melt in her mouth. It tasted like actual food.

“(Taste isn’t a commutative sense my ass)” she thought, dipping her alien beef jerky into the pesto, taking a bite and trying the next dish on the list.

“Titkian’chta, small portion”

Jasmine’s mouth watered. A sizzling platter of Waudress was delivered to her, drenched in what she smelt was the equivalent of lime and mango pieces. She didn’t even bother to pick up the utensil tongs provided, she just picked it up and popped it in her mouth. It was sweet, salty, caramelized, and couldn’t get in her mouth quick enough.

“Ahhhhhmmmmm” She garbled, then committed the name of the dish to memory, for future reference. Ordering a large portion then balancing the plates on her arm, waitress style.

“Siku’chata, small portion please!” Jasmine was content if nothing would be able to top the Titkain, but was pleasantly surprised with the ‘fruit salad’ that appeared next. Green and white cubed pieces of fruit sat in a mint smelling sauce. The white cubes tasted like mango with the texture of watermelon, the green was so close to cucumber it was uncanny. Was it a side dish salad? Or a refreshing dessert? It was a question for when Xant was awake and she wasn’t shoving more food in her mouth. How the hell could anyone survive on just one taste alone?

“Min’chta, small portion.” This time, it wasn’t so much a food dish, as it was a drink. A clear, green tinged liquid, with a mild white froth sitting on top.

“Bottoms up!” She tittered, thoroughly enjoying her adventures in Xeno cuisine. Her daring was rewarded with a virgin sour mojito, the alcohol would have been nice, but frankly she was just happy she had something other than water to drink. She noted the recurring flavours amongst the ‘Chta’ dishes, mint, mangos, and lime. Already beginning to mix together what she had available to make something new…

She ordered more of the exotic meals and brought them all down to the rug, she and Sigi would have a nice little picnic while they waited for Xant to wake up.

“(Oh wait… What if the rug IS an important heirloom?) Crap…” The human sighed, if it was anywhere near as important as her own mother’s rugs she probably would have been ejected out of the Airlock if she spilt anything on it. Jasmine quickly looked around, before being struck with the idea. “(Xant’s wardrobe!)”

She had seen the many dozens of jackes he had hanging on the rack, most of them were about the same size as a full table cloth.

She carefully placed the several bowls of food onto Xant's desk, making sure they were nowhere near him, before hopping over to the unseen wardrobe. The wardrobe itself was hidden away inside the actual wall, extending out only when someone touched the small sensor.

Jasmines own wardrobe had only the one ‘wetsuit’ “(not unitard...)” to choose from, she was a little excited to see if Xant had any other clothes.

She was sorely disappointed.

Nine identical jackets and nine identical wetsuits, all the same colour and size.

“Don’t know what I was expecting…” She shrugged, grabbing a jacket and closing the rack.

She spread the jacket out over the rug, it wasn’t a light cotton but a sort of thin vinyl, perfect for stains and spills she expected. With just a few trips she arranged the food bowls around the cushion on her makeshift picnic blanket and gave Sieglinde her own arrangement on the other side.

“Bon-appetit!” Jasmine toasted with her Min-mojito, before it dawned on her, she did know a little German!

“Prost!” She smiled, and to her delight, Sigi’s face lit up and the dog gave a short, sharp bark. Jasmine thrusted the drink into the air and proclaimed again,

“Prost, Prost, Prost!”

“Bark bark bark!”

“Prost!”

“Bark!”

“Prost, prost, prost? Prost!” Jasmine mimicked a sentence, but Sigi just stared back happily.

“Heh, I was pushing my luck anyway.” Jasmine brought the drink up to her lips but stopped. “Becks?” She smirked.

The dog gave a low, but non-threatening growl.

“Heinikein?”

The same noise. Jasmine smirked.

“Weihenstephan?” Sigi returned with a happy bark. Jasmine chuckled.

“Remind me to buy Oskar a beer when we meet, I’ll have to pay him back for the excellent company you’ve provided.” She finally took a sip of her drink and pushed Sigi’s bowls in front of her. The dog began to eat and Jasmine followed suit, picking up her utensil tongs and shoveling the unique tastes into her mouth.

Eating alien tapas on a medical jacket blanket with a German dog for company under imaginary rain.

“(There’s probably a Monty Python sketch in there somewhere...)” She mused chewing her Titkian, she gave a glance over to Xant and swallowed.

He was still sleeping, even after all the noise.

She put down the empty bowl and stood up.

“Excuse me Sigi, I’ll be right back.” Jasmine walked over to Xant’s desk. He lay there still, completely unaware of the Alien picnic happening in his office and the commotion surrounding it. The black dataslate dim, still streaming the rain, possibly on continuous loop.

Alien script flashed across the screen, symbols of triangles and squares. The text wouldn’t have been indecipherable, but Jasmine had no context of key to go off… She slid the dataslate toward her.

“Umm, recording off?” She tried.

Much to her surprise, the device listened.

“Uhh, show available recordings.”

The list compiled, she counted 6 ‘experiences’ on the playlist. If a normal dataslate could hold a couple of thousand images, then the information needed to hold a ‘sensation recording’ must have been huge. She wandered back to her half eaten picnic and sat down, curiously looking over the Dataslate. Every device she had been privy to had only one function. Play and record sound, play and record sensation, draw image. Granted, there was probably more restrictions placed on her than the machines, but it was so odd that Xant would have so many dataslates, when one of her own tablets from earth could do all that and more.

Well, not the sensation part.

“(Your brain processes an impossible amount of information Jasmine.)” Xant’s voice echoed in her memories. She frowned, something wasn’t right. Of course the human brain was the greatest processor on her world, but, surely the GC space would have greater computers? Interplanetary civilisations would need to have enormous processing servers, to coordinate shipping lanes, warp gates or whatever it was they had out there. Possibly petabytes of data, but she hadn’t seen a single server or large storage unit since she’d gotten here, was it in a different room or was everything isolated into single dataslates? Did they have a cloud server? Was that what it was like here too?

She looked down at the playlist again. Even if the Datapacket was huge, 6 seemed... small? Nerves worked on electronic signals, she was pretty sure, this dataslate could send those signals straight to her nervous system-

Jasmine was suddenly very uncomfortable.

Her original trail of thought derailed.

With this tech, you could make anyone feel whatever you wanted, it was simply a matter of finding or recording the right signals, pleasure, pain...

Was this what her emotions did to the others?

Were they feeling the impact of her emotions the same way she was feeling the rain through the recording? The heat of her anger? The beating of her heart in panic? The nauseum of her anxiety?

“Oh Xant,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry…”

She rested the Dataslate in her lap as she came to terms with the realisation.

She would probably never be able to completely control her ‘emotional frequencies’. Even if she could master the art of keeping a straight face or grace under pressure, she’d never be able to stop her heart from rapidly beating in panic, or the sick, tightening knots she felt in her stomach when faced with an alien concept.

She wouldn’t have wished that on anyone.

No wonder the rest of the staff freaked out when she took Sieglinde from their custody. They must have all nearly had heart attacks like she did when she saw Sigi in danger. It was just like the writing on the walls, just because she couldn’t see didn’t mean it wasn’t there. Just because she couldn’t feel it it, didn’t mean she wasn’t making an impact on others.

And now that Jasmine did, she felt another rock fall in her stomach. She looked at Xant with a new appreciation, he had been there, doing his best to calm her and everyone else around him even while putting himself at risk.

It must have been exhausting dealing with such an overly emotional human like her. A small smirk pulled the corner of her lips, it was exhausting dealing with an emotional human without having to feel the psychic impact.

“I’m such a pain in the ass,” she chuckled sadly to herself.

“Dr. Uru’Nav Xant, Living quarters”

The door slid open and Rynard poked his head through. His eyes focusing squarely on her.

“Jasi?” His low voice rumbled, “You alright?”

“Oh! Uhh, yeah, I’m okay,” she replied, quietly “Just, a little emotional is all, but I’m better now.”

Rynard nodded and stepped into the room, a small black box in his hand.

“And the doctor?” He asked, taking a few steps before looming over Xant.

“He’s been out for quite a while,” Jasmine answered, getting up from her seat on the floor. “I don’t know if that’s normal or…” Guilt invaded her chest again, and Rynard glanced over.

He could feel her.

Her eyes widened but she took a moment, a deep breath to clear her thoughts and calm her mind.

She needed to stay calm.

Rynard put down the box on the end of the desk and prodded Xant with a finger. The doctor didn’t move. The Security Captain then noticed the canister and medipen on the desk. He picked it up to inspect the contents.

Empty.

He opened the drawer, finding another empty vial.

“How much had he taken? Did you see?” He asked the human.

“Uhhh, it was just the one shot I think,” She replied unsure, “I wasn’t paying too much attention.”

Rynard gave a gruff sigh.

“Right, I’ll have to get him to the medical wing then. Follow me.” Rynard instructed, hefting Xant up into one arm, carrying the doctor on his hip.

“Is- is Xant going to be okay?” Jasmine asked, beginning to feel the panic creeping in.

“He’s suffering from VEFS, it’s better we get him down to medical before something permanent happens.” The Captain stated, then turned towards the door. “He’s taken enough depressors to counteract a Freq-bomb…”

“A Freq-bomb?” Jasmine gulped.

Rynard nodded,

“It’s not going to kill him, but he might be disorientated if he wakes without proper care. Big heads are sensitive like that.”

Jasmine nodded, reaching for Sigi’s leash and pulling her nose out of the pesto.

“Come on girl…” She whispered, trying to hold her panic at bay.

Rynard tapped the button on his collar, activating his comms unit.

CPT Rynard: Dr. Krydon, this is Captain Rynard. I’ve found Dr. Xant unconscious from VEFS and possible Depressor doses, please ready a pod for treatment. I’ll be bringing the Subject Jasmine in for testing too. She’s emitting minor Freq, non-threatening levels, Specimen Sieglinde’s condition is normal. ETA 4 [minutes].

He deactivated the comms and attempted a smile.

“It’s probably nothing, but better to wait in medical than here-” the Captain finally noticed the picnic arrangement on the floor.

“Were you?... Eating ‘Chta?”

“Umm yeah?”

“Uh-huh…” Rynard paused, “Any Taasai there?”

“No, but, shouldn’t we be getting down to the medical wing?” Jasmine queried.

“Oh, right…” The Captain turned quickly and headed out the door.

Jasmine knew to follow closely, but skulled the last of her Min-mojito before running after Rynard.

How she wished the rum was really there.