A wedding planned

Dustin swiped down through the list and groaned. “You know there’s such a thing as too much choice, right Naera?” The shortstack shrugged. “Not when it comes to food! And this isn’t just any food - this is for your wedding reception. If I’m doing the catering, it’s got to be perfect for you otherwise I’ll be embarrassed every time I see you. Which would be very awkward, given we’re fucking. So start filtering mister, while I go and talk to Meli and Rye about the drink menu.” With a sigh, Dustin returned to the list, opting to filter out the things he definitely didn’t want to see served.

Everyone had piled in on them the morning after Meli’s proposal; he’d expected a calm breakfast to discuss a few things and then setting a date - but it had rapidly snowballed into the event of the year. Trea’k had put herself in charge of decoration, Rye was working on arranging the sound setup for both their vows and the dance afterward as well as holo-recording the entire thing; that last one had been at his request. When Axworth had found out - and Dustin was still not entirely sure who’d told the General - the old man had nodded before saying that of course they’d need to either provide a holo-recording of the vows or allow the press in as Dustin was such an important public figure. It was one thing for him to get a start on Rabyth pairing when he was miles from home, but it was another entirely for him to be married in Earth orbit apparently.

That was the other thing - he’d expected the date to be some time away, but Meli had practically demanded that they get married before they moved on to their next mission - certainly, before they left Sol space. Which when he agreed had led to Emely declaring herself in charge of ensuring the guests were all present on time - a role that the Feliax had taken to with a commissar’s attention to detail. Even as he pondered the tricky business of whether or not to have smoked salmon options in the starters, the redhead was busy arguing with space traffic control via a communicator. “We can’t just land the ship, this is a diplomatic event. Look, all I need is a clear shuttle lane over Europe for an hour, and I’m booking it with you weeks in advance. Why… oh for Felio’s sake!”

The fox girl tossed the communicator down on the desk in disgust, before sighing and picking it back up. “Stupid traffic control idiots don’t have a clue. I’ll call up the General’s secretary, they at least have their head on right and will make people jump to get this organised.” Dustin opted not to get involved - Emely was handling things, and if half of what Axworth had said about how important it was for his wedding to be an event was true, then it was likely whoever had talked to the Feliax at space traffic control would get a short, sharp lesson in interplanetary politics.

Swiping away yet another dish, he considered the reduced list of starters he had left. “Ten options is still a bit much” he mused, before shrugging and pinging it over to Meli’s tablet. “I’m moving on to mains, but when you get a moment we should probably filter it down to three or four on that list.” She looked up when he called over and smiled at him, before gesturing to something on Naera’s tablet. “If we serve that, you’ll need to store it in a hazardous material container and watch it like a hawk or you’ll risk killing some of our guests. I know Dustin doesn’t show it, but humans can be idiots sometimes and just because something is safe for a Rabyth to drink doesn’t mean it won’t instantly give a human **** poisoning. Or, in the case of that particular spirit, just straight up eat a hole in their liver.”

Beside them Rye chuckled, before leaning down and pointing at something herself. “Don’t serve that one either. Any Rabyth that will be coming are going to know Dusty and I are pairing, and that one is used as something of a social flag for pairing couples that they want to - err, shall we say share? Before they get fully paired. None of the guests should act on it, but Meli sent my cousin an invite for some reason and I know she already thought Dusty was cute. Best not risk it, okay Nae-nae?” Dustin winced at that particular revelation and nodded to himself. “Definitely not that drink. Right, on to the main menu.”

A week later and they were still planning. He’d thought that after setting up the list of food and a date it’d be almost done - but no. Guest lists had to be checked and double checked albeit not by him; Meli had been surprisingly secretive about that, merely asking for a list of those he wanted to invite before handing it off to Emely along with a list of her own, seemingly trusting the fox girl to make the arrangements. Given they’d opted to hold the actual ceremony in the garden they’d been working on, there was definitely enough space for a huge crowd - but he was somewhat surprised he didn’t even know who would be coming. Vows had to be written; they’d opted to say them in both languages, which then meant a whole day and a half comparing translations to find words that both fit and said everything they wanted to say.

As far as a dress went, he know Meli would be wearing one - mostly because a half dozen dressmakers had visited the ship one morning and Yril’k had firmly but politely requested he come with her to a meeting with Sammie and the new pilots. At their training compound. Which was on the other side of the Bristol channel. Only on the shuttle ride back did he realize she’d been making sure Meli had time without him present to get her outfit sorted; the insect warrior had nodded when he’d asked her directly about it. “Of course’k. You should’k request my help when’k you wish to organise your own’k clothing. I will’k run interference with the ladies’k for you also, captain.”

She’d been as good as her word - the previous afternoon she’d dragged the senior staff into a drill on “what to do if the captain is injured during the mission and we need to deal with a sudden loss of command” while Sammie had smuggled him out of the starport - the pilot not taking part in the drill on the grounds that she and her squadron were flying at the time of his “injury”. Piling him into the back of a private shuttle, Sammie had given him a thumbs up and sent him on his way; she was apparently due to call in to Sola a few minutes later to request orders. Dustin smiled as he remembered the rest of that day; his shuttle had touched down in the old town, one of the few suburbs of Contact City that still had a lot of the character of the shanty town that had grown up around the first contact site.

He’d gone there rather than one of the high market tailors his status afforded him specifically. Telling the shuttle pilot to wait, he’d walked down a side street before reaching his destination. The shop was tiny, and had an actual bell hanging over the door that jangled when he walked in. The old man behind the counter peered up at him, before rubbing his eyes and adjusting his glasses. “Young Dustin? Why, it is young Dustin. Surprised to see you, I hear you’re a big shot nowadays.” Dustin had smiled at the tailor, before gesturing down at his jeans and t-shirt outfit. “I’m getting married, Master de Vici, sir. And well, I need someone I can trust to make my suit - I’m marrying someone really special you see.”

The old man tutted and pulled a tape measure - an actual reel rather than a digital one - from a pocket. “And you come to see me, do you? Well, I made your father’s suit - and your grandfather’s now I come to think about it, though he came especially to buy it from me in my homeland before any of them from up there visited us. Let’s look at you, arms out. So, she’s special how exactly?” Dustin smiled at that, before beginning to tell the old man about the way Meli’s eyes sparkled in the light of trinary stars, or the way she breathed when she was sleeping, or the way her ears curled just a little in happiness whenever she tasted fresh fruit.

Dustin shook his head to clear his reverie. De Vici had come to England shortly after first contact - the man had been working for a bespoke tailors in Europe, one of the real elite ones before the aliens arrived, but had left all that behind to ensure that in his own words “anyone meeting with alien ambassadors is at least somewhat decently dressed.” He’d never gotten any high profile clients, although Dustin suspected that the upcoming wedding might change things - but he’d clothed people in fantastically well made outfits for a fraction of what they should cost just to ensure his own pride was satisfied.

Which would shortly turn out to be a very good thing, because while Dustin had been daydreaming about getting his suit fitted Sola had been announcing something that he was sure couldn’t be correct. “Sorry, Sola, could you repeat that last message?” The AI managed to sound slightly disgruntled as she replied, and he pondered if he should have a word with Rye to see if she’d been tinkering with the computers again. “Sorry, captain. I said - long range scanners have detected multiple weave signatures. According to my database, they match the vessels I had been requested to keep a look out for by the communications officer. Two are civilian transports, Velca and Rabyth in design and I have already notified the relevant crew. However, the third you should greet according to protocol rather than my communications officer.”

Stretching, Dustin took a sip of his drink, swallowed and stood before turning to head from his ready room to the bridge. “On my way up. Any reason why protocol says I should call them up rather than traffic control?” Sola’s reply caused him to stumble before he began to run for the lift. “Protocol dictates that if present in Sol space, the ambassador should greet visiting heads of state. I believe EarthGov would appreciate you introducing them to the Feliax Empress before she arrives in Earth orbit.”