The three Quin’tel retracted what one could assume were their lips, displaying their teeth in an off-putting attempt at a smile. The leader spoke up, “Many species are surprised when first boarding a Quin’tel ship. We do not much like to be away from the home world, and so we create biomes on our ships. The atmosphere is kept to the average temperature of Quin’tel itself, though we have reduced it to make you more comfortable, Prime.”

Winterborn chuckled softly, “Well, surprised is definitely the word I'd use. Isn’t this impractical?” she waved her hand, encompassing the veritable rainforest which surrounded them.

The lead Quin’tel chittered a brief laugh, “Yes, this one supposes you could call it impractical…but what is the price of morale? We would not thrive living aboard a ship without the comforts of home. From what this one has come to understand, it does not appear that Humans have the same problem. Do you not have similar practices to remind you of home?”

Behind the party of six, the airlock door slowly slid shut. Winterborn turned to watch as the tunnel they had just exited began to retract and collapse. Winterborn gazed in awe of this, her mind aflame with the implications of such a technology. She decided to wait until a later point to inquire about how such a mechanism worked. She spoke in a far off voice, “We have music, videos, and food. Some keep photographs or small trinkets from home. We really don’t have anything more significant than that.”

The Quin’tel shook his head slowly, “This one is sorry to hear that. A connection to one’s home is necessary to thrive. Though this one is sure that the Prime knows best.”

Winterborn watched through the visual display as the shuttle pulled away from the Athena, noting that the Quin’tel ship didn’t have any obvious thrusters—she wondered if they had managed to perfect impulse technology. While Terrans had such technology in the works, it was definitely in its infancy.

She was about to pose the question to the Quin’tel when a thought struck her; she would soon be the head of state for these people, wouldn’t she? If she gave the command, they would likely share any tech they had. This could be an opportunity for Human kind to make a vast leap forward in the technological sphere…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the Quin’tel ship, Vol'en'brus—the vessel was absolutely massive, similar in size to the capitol ships of the Terran Empire. Unlike the simplistic, almost minimalist design of the shuttle she currently occupied, the Vol'en'brus was seemingly designed to flaunt its complexity. The ship was all angles and sharp edges, the colors were bright and bold. She inspected the vessel as they approached, and again couldn’t identify anything which resembled engines or thrusters.

She had to stop herself from staring at the ship; she wondered if the Terran Empire would be capable of the engineering feat that ship represented...

The shuttle rapidly approached the ship; it soon dominated the entire view-screen. The shuttle approached a large, hexagonal airlock which opened slowly to welcome them. The ship gracefully landed on a pad which roughly matched the size and shape of the shuttle. The airlock behind slid shut, hardly making a sound as the seal was re-engaged. A tunnel similar to the one which had taken Winterborn and the others aboard extended from the wall of the shuttle. The shuttle's own tunnel reached and melded almost perfectly to the extending one.

The lead Quin'tel looked up to meet Winterborn's eyes, she could've sworn that he seemed smug. The Quin'tel quickly dropped his gaze, bowing his head. A series of alien symbols appeared on the display; it took a moment for Winterborn's visual implant to interpret the information displayed there. It seemed to read something like, 'Proceed is acceptable'. She assumed that the docking procedures were complete.

The Quin'tel bowed his head and addressed her, "Prime, this one is ready to receive you on the Vol'en'brus."

Winterborn and the others walked through the strangely smooth tunnel. She ran her hand along the surface of the metal, it was oddly warm to the touch, and to her great surprise, there was no discernible seam between where the two tunnels had met. She was careful to record everything she felt and saw—she planned to go over the data with Rosa later.

They stepped through the threshold of the tunnel and out into an opulently appointed receiving area. As before, the room was filled with plant life; unlike the shuttle, however, every plant seemed to weave together into a tapestry. It was as if every living thing were a single stroke of the brush in a painting. Looking at the scene before her, Winterborn was struck by the image of a planet full of life and vitality, where every animal and plant lived in harmonious coexistence.

The scarred form of the ship's Captain stood with his head bowed to Winterborn. He waited patiently for her to notice him, his eyes were firmly locked on the ground. Still, when her eyes finally fell upon him, he dropped to his knees and bowed low to the ground. Winterborn frowned at the sight, and was preparing to ask him to stand when the Quin'tel surprised her by loudly speaking up, "Prime, this one apologizes for this, but we need to collect a blood sample from each of you. It is possible that one of you isn't who they say they are."

Winterborn nodded, “So, it’s some kind of shapeshifter or changeling?”

Captain Gul'bres mimicked her nod, “Yes. They are called the Ven; they are a species which lives in the furthest reaches of the Empire. They were discovered by the Quin’tel over a century ago, but were not brought under our dominion. Not that we didn’t try,” he paused, “They act now as a mercenary force which will work for anyone who has the resources. Now, we need to test you and your officers before we speak further.” he nodded to the Quin’tel who had escorted them from the shuttle. Winterborn nodded to the security officers who had been nervously looking towards her for direction. They relaxed, if only a little.

“Please bare your arm, Prime,” said the Quin’tel to her side. She noticed the security officers being given the same treatment. The lizard-like being held her arm in a firm but gentle grip. She found herself surprised by the strength present in the small digits of this alien's hand. The Quin’tel reached with his fifth arm for a small tubular device sitting on a waiting metal tray. He pressed the mouth of the tube against her skin and warned her that a small but sharp pain would be forthcoming. As he warned, a feeling not unlike a bee sting burned her arm where the tube met skin. She made a point not to show any of the discomfort that she so readily felt.

She heard a yelp of pain from one of her officers, and looked over and turned a grin at the stricken warrant officer. “Now, now. That wasn’t so bad was it, Warrant Officer Sam?”

She smiled ruefully, “No, Sir. I was just surprised, Sir.”

A moment later, the Quin’tel seemed to visibly relax. Captain Gul'bres bowed again, pressing his forehead against the lichen-covered floor of the ship. “This one thanks you for your cooperation. You are cleared. Neither you nor the officers who accompanied you are Ven. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Winterborn crouched before the Captain and placed her hand on his shoulder, “I understand. You were doing your duty, and you were doing me a favor,” she pointed at one of the tubes, “Do you mind if I borrow a few of these? I’d like to get testing my crew as soon as possible.”

The Quin’tel shook his head in imitation of the Human gesture, “I am not permitted to allow this technology to leave Quin’tel claws. I apologize.”

Winterborn opened her mouth in surprise, “Not even if your Prime demands it?”

He shook his head again, “Captain, I must respectfully remind you that you are not yet coronated. When you are endowed with all the significant powers of your position, of course we would not hesitate to comply,” he somehow managed to bow lower, “We give you this deference in recognition of what you will be, not what you are now.”

Winterborn helped the Quin’tel to his feet, “Fine then, would you accept coming aboard with a few of your people to test our crew for us? We would be most gratified to finally have this situation put to rest.”

The Captain inclined his head, “Yes, Prime. That would be acceptable. We can arrange for no more than a hundred to assist you in this fashion, and no less than fifty. Such is protocol.”

Winterborn was surprised at the high figure, “Why that many? I was expecting a medical team, maybe two.”

The Quin’tel chittered in wordless displays of surprise before the Captain quelled them. He spoke solemnly, “In cases where a Ven has been found, you want as much force available to help take them down. Truly, it is a shock that the Prefect and his aides weren’t killed. They will be honored for this display of martial prowess.”

“When can you have your people sent over?”

He cocked his head to the side, “We will send them over along with you. We cannot allow the Ven to prepare.”

“Make the arrangements, I want this sorted out as soon as possible.”

A full compliment of one-hundred Quin’tel filed in through the airlock, boarding the Athena. She had not notified her officers that such a force was arriving on the advisement of the Gul'bres; she wanted to maintain the element of surprise for as long as possible. In order to accommodate this, she ordered a general staff meeting. The Quin’tel took up positions around the ship, watching all shuttles, access tunnels, and service stations. A team of twenty accompanied Winterborn to the Officer’s mess, where she had ordered her crew to gather. She watched each of her officers for any sign of treachery, though they all seemed to react with surprise and alarm in equal measure. All of them, save for the doctor, who seemed to show very little reaction at all. Winterborn made a note of that; she’d be the first to be evaluated.

“Hello all,” she addressed the nervous group, “it is my duty to inform you that we have been infiltrated by a creature called a Ven—they are a species apparently capable of mimicry. We must find this creature to prevent further harm that may come to this ship and her people. We will start by checking everyone in this room.”

The doctor stepped forward, coming to a sharp salute, “Sir, I would like to inspect the devices the Quin’tel are using to ‘test’ us—I need to be sure that they aren’t trying to cause us any harm under the guise of friendly overtures.”

“Denied, Commander,” snapped Winterborn. “I have seen the technology the Vol’en’brus has at their disposal. If they wanted to cause us harm, we’d be debris by now. I have already been tested by the same method. Now, let’s start with you then, Doctor. Once cleared of suspicion, you will be allowed to assist with the testing.” She nodded to the Quin’tel at her left and right, who walked carefully towards the doctor. Several Quin’tel held weapons which looked shockingly close to the firearms of the Terrans, though she supposed that the design was natural enough that most species with projectile weapons and Human-hand-like appendages would very likely have similar designs.

Winterborn wasn’t exactly sure of what had happened next; one moment the doctor was standing still, and the next she had become a blur. She bolted towards the officers faster than the Captain would have imagined possible. The Quin’tel had fired, but they had been far too slow on the draw. The doctor now held Rosa Fallborn firmly in a headlock, keeping the lieutenant squarely in front of herself. She was a human shield.