Humanity's Greatest Mecha Warrior System

All of the officers and envoys made their way to one of the more elegant lounges on the seventh floor, suitable for nobles and other dignitaries who wanted a calm and businesslike atmosphere to their day.

There weren't many guests there right now, only a few Valkia parents sipping drinks and talking about the Alliance stock markets while their kids played on the lower levels, so there was no need for the group to worry about crowding anyone out with their arrival. Many species were status conscious like that and would silently make space for those with superior stations, even without a request.

It was one of the things that the hospitality staff was working on, and he had introduced in-room views of the occupancy of various lounges so that those who were of a similar mindset could go when they wouldn't feel that they were in the way and get full enjoyment of the ship's facilities.

The parents were more than a little shocked to see all the dignitaries come into the lounge at the same time. Usually, a group that esteemed would request a private room somewhere, but Max knew that most of them found it to be overly stuffy and isolating. They didn't get a lot of chances to interact with the common people as it was, and eating in a private room only eliminated one more chance for them to see how people were really doing.

It was a problem that nearly every species seemed to suffer from. The leadership became the elites, which became unspoken aristocrats. They isolated themselves from the world within their peer group, passing down laws for everyone else that they had no intention of following.

The Alliance was as guilty of it as the humans, but they seemed to be working on it, or at least the ones that they had sent to Terminus were working on it, and everyone happily greeted the waitress when she came to take the drink orders.

Max ordered himself a pint of mead, a change from the hard liquor so that he could drink casually over dinner, and a brilliant idea hit him. In-room experiences. Unlike so many other vessels, they weren't cramped for space, so even the cheapest of rooms had a fair bit of space available. They could send down a table and chairs that matched the dining experience of the establishment that the guest wanted to visit and add a hologram to simulate it in their room.

The ultimate in-room service.

He made a note of it in case his brilliant idea was lost later in a fog of rich foods and liquor and joined the group in ordering dinner.

"It's a bit different than the old cafeteria menu, isn't it, General?" He laughed as Tennant set the menu down on the table.

"You know, there is no need to call me General anymore. We're both Commanders now, and technically you outrank me, as you command three eight active vessels." The older man pointed out.

"It's a bit of a tradition here. Half of the former officers still use their old ranks. Admiral Drake is still the Admiral, though he serves as the ship's navigator now. Even the Battalion Commanders are mostly still called Colonel." Max explained.

"Well, that's one way to sort out who is who. Most Companies use job positions or equivalent badges to show who is in charge." Tennant agreed.

"We do the same. Valkia dye certain feathers to show their rank and workplace position. The more of the feather that is dyed, the higher their rank." The Valkia envoy explained, pointing to the single blue feather near the end of his wing.

Most of the humans had thought it was either a personal choice, or a naturally occurring thing since Valkia feathers were rarely in only one colour, but in reality, that shade of blue was used for all government workers' uniforms within the Alliance, from toll booth workers to police, and even the suits of the paperwork clerks usually picked the same government blue.

It wasn't really a regulation, just a tradition since only the police and some other law enforcement types actually used blue uniforms. Everyone else had just chosen them on their own. Even garbage collectors usually picked blue coveralls with neon green safety vests.

That thought was rather amusing to Max since it was the standard safety vest colour across hundreds of human worlds and implied that most Alliance species had similar visual processing capabilities to humanity, making it suitable for general use.

The smell of steaks and lobsters brought Max back to the present and out of the minds of his table mates as a half dozen servers brought platters of food to their table, and General Tennant sighed in happiness.

"Now, this is how life should be. We're still a bit short on biomass aboard Abraham Kepler, so we've been conserving with repacked rations, but one day soon, we will be able to plug in any meal that we want and eat like kings." He informed the table with a smile.

"The food replicator is possibly the most important turning point in most societies. It is the point where the have and have not groups begin to disappear since food creation uses energy by volume, not scarcity. How they handle the transition is the most telling indication of where the society is heading." The Giant agreed, cutting into what looked like an entire ham.

"We can help build your first city as well. The terraforming device can be used for disaster remediation, so it has preprogrammed cityscapes. I have planned to add a very unique one of my own design to the planet, so if you don't object, that will be the first colony in this world. I believe that the naming rights to the planet lie with you, though." Nico informed the General.

"Planets have a proper designation as well as a local name. The local name is set by the first colonists to settle there." Max explained to the envoys.

"Oh, now that is a high honour. I like the way you think. Hunters get to name the planet if they are the first to make a worthy kill on it. I think it's nearly the same concept." The Hunter Envoy agreed.

"Well then, we have much to drink to. Waitress, could you bring us another bottle of Reaver Rum?"