Three hundred ships, all docking with the station at the same time as the first wave came in to drop off their guests, was quite the spectacle.

The Alliance planets had been informed that there was very limited space here, so most of the guests had come on chartered vessels instead of paying an exorbitant storage fee, but that only made the size of the ships at the station larger, and the crowds inside more impressive as they all disembarked with their luggage and prepared to do some shopping before they boarded the cutter to the surface.

For many, this would be their first taste of a true culture shock. The staff were Reavers who hadn’t been taken in by any particular company, so they had tried their hand as settlers, taking their first job in this settlement aboard the Space Station with the promise of being able to move to the surface after they had repaid the fees to get them there.

For the ones who were on the surface, they simply owed General Tennant, their new Planetary Governor and Commander of the vessel that they arrived on, for the price of their passage. Unlike most new colonies, this one had been done as an , so there was no huge terraforming debt incurred, a real weight off of the first generation, though the amount of money they were bringing in as a tourist stop would have easily made up for it.

The General knew just how to draw in the guests too. Almost too well. He had waived the Portal Fees and Docking Fees for any vacation company vessel bringing them more than one hundred guests for a ten-day or longer stay.

That was a quarter of most vacation expenses, so it was insanely cheap to stay here, even renting an entire villa for ten thousand credits, compared to other similar vacation destinations.

The central area of the station, closest to the surface shuttle, had the largest number of shops and was set up as an open-air bazaar, a design that was very familiar to some guests but confusing and chaotic to others. The signage was clear, though, so nobody could get truly lost in the maze of booths selling nearly anything that you could want.

Max was watching the security cameras, partially to make sure that General Tennant was going to be able to deal with this level of chaos during his first days on the job, but mostly for his own entertainment. Because who was he kidding? The General had safely wrangled multiple Mecha Regiments back to their ships while under hostile fire, fighting on the losing side of a rout. A station full of tourists in a shopping market was nothing to him.

“Dryads, Fae and other esteemed connoisseurs, I have for you the finest of marinaded live beetles. Get them here while they’re nice and crunchy.” A voice was calling out in the section of the market that Max was observing, drawing the attention of some Myceloid visitors, as well as what appeared to be a carnivorous plant species, much like the Shin, but with sharp fangs on large snapping flowers.

“Are they truly edible? Humans don’t eat such things, right?” The Myceloid asked.

“We don’t eat such things often. But some of our planets consider them a delicacy, including the one that I came from. The first one is on the house. Let me know if you like the flavour. The Alliance food scanner has already been by to give us our safety certificate.” The vendor announced, pointing to the Grade A food service letter on the wall.

The Myceloid was the braver of the pair and popped the insect into its “Mouth” with a happy crunching noise. Being a fungus-based species, they could absorb it through any point of their body, but the fake mouth they had created was best and didn’t leave them with messy hands for an extended period of time while they digested the unusual treat instead of their usual nutrient water diet.

“How can it be spicy? I don’t have tastebuds?” The Myceloid mumbled as they mushed the beetle into an easily digested paste.

“They’re good, right? What about you? Care to try?” The vendor asked the sentient plant.

It extended a flower his way, and he dropped the live beetle inside, where the closing flower trapped it, and the plant’s branches began to shake.

That panicked the vendor for a moment, as he couldn’t interpret it and thought he might have accidentally poisoned the customer, but the shaking branches were a show of joy among the Shin and others who used the same body language.

“He’s happy. Check your communicator pad. The plant species usually connect through text.” The Myceloid explained since that human was clearly unaware of how to deal with the species in general.

“Thanks. It’s my first day, and there wasn’t enough time to get through more than the half dozen most populous species in the book.” He laughed, then filled the Myceloid’s order for a box full of sticky, honey garlic beetles.

“Before you go, I need help again. I don’t think it translated right.” The shopkeeper called out as the Myceloid was leaving.

[Give Your Shop To ME] was what his display read, making the myceloid laugh.

“It’s slang. It means he wants everything you’ve got. Give him a second, and there will be a number underneath showing how much product he’s actually wanting to buy.”

The plant shook its branches again and repeated the message.

“I think I get it. Do you really like them and want the whole stock for the day? I’ve got four thousand credits worth of beetles prepared, and they will live for up to one more week. Is that fine?” The vendor asked.

Four thousand Alliance Credits were transferred to the stall, and one very happy tree left with two large crates full of sauce-soaked beetles.

“Who would have thought that the live beetles would be the first stall to sell out and have to go to the back warehouses to make himself more product? I totally thought it would be the nail clippers guy. Look at how they enrapture the bird species.” Nico whispered from over Max’s shoulder.

That wasn’t a joyous look. They were horrified by the concept of a combined tool to brutally clip and a coarse rasp to file their beloved talons. It was like the humans had put a medieval torture device on display right in front of them, next to the actual grooming tools, like the laser shaper which they would normally use to groom their talons.

They were buying a lot of them, though, to take home as souveniers and threaten their children with.