Finches live on virtually every space ship, a new breed of pest. A new Captain upsets the balance and safety of the ship? Connections are important, find how the tiny finches connect, when they can't talk to Furs! Will their intolerance of each other exceed their ability to survive it?!

For those of you who find a visual helpful in layout:

|.........|.........|.........|.........|.........|...Port.|..................|.............................................

Nose.Bridge.Cap'n..2nd..Crew.Galley.Storage.......Engine...........................

|(nest).|.........|.........|.........|.........|...Port.|..................|.............................................

SECTIONS:

The New Captain

The First Song

The Crew

___The New Captain___

I fluffed the feathers on my head and drew my beak through my long, green-tipped primaries. My name is... unpronounceable in words, but the last Captain called me Glen Song, for how my song made him think of a meadow near his family's home. I needed to look my best because a new Captain of our ship was arriving. He or she would arrive today along with the new crew. I perched my tiny, blue-feathered body on a railing across from the airlock, ready to greet whatever large figure walked through the hatch. Today, all Deneb Finches aboard the ship would meet their new... hosts.

The ship had been sold, and we finches were... well, we lived there, of course. In the recent centuries of spaceflight, Deneb Finches had taken residence in virtually all pressurized space structures. We had managed to displace all the hitchhiking rats and mice. Those nasty rodents only flourished on a few of the first planets colonized.

The old human, Captain Andrei Ivanovich, had retired and the ship had been sold. He'd watched me grow up, so it had been difficult to say our goodbyes. We'd had to part ways; such is life.

I was the leader of the little flock aboard ship. I was unusually young for this role, but my song was very strong, a thing of great respect among us. There were 9 of us aboard the Fleeting Minnow, a fast merchant vessel specializing in time-sensitive goods, courier services, and luxury item delivery. I was overseeing our territory of the ship and extended my protection to two mated pairs and their offspring.

The airlock door clicked, and its wheel spun. Even though there were new technologies in airlocks available, most spacers preferred tried-and-true methods of ensuring their safety on jaunts. The door swung open firmly, as if the person opening it were making a statement with its movement. A figure stepped across the threshold and stood looking around.

It was a young female leopard, a charismatic looking species. This would be beneficial in her relations with other Captains. I cheeped my approval. She appeared to have a strong, forward attitude and her spots rippled along her muscles as she strode forwards. A Fur in excellent physical condition.

She was an Intelligent Transferred Mammalian Companion(tm), a name which had been shortened to Transfurred... and again to simply Fur. Lazy humans... most of them. Furs had originally been greatly copyrighted and coveted creatures, who had since occupied space at further distances than most humans. Furs were hybrid creatures, generally bipedal and humanoid.

I tilted my head down, examining her closely. A bird's best vision is when they look down at something. It's an evolutionary response to flight.

I raised my shoulders and bobbed my head in greeting as she.... Her gaze brushed by, and she walked right past me. I knew finches are all pretty tiny compared to Furs and humans, but really there was no excuse for rudeness. Maybe I was a little smaller than her paw's palm, but I was vibrantly colored like my kind typically were. I was a vivid blue all over, with brightly colored markings. I was pretty hard to miss, especially by sensitive feline eyes.

Feeling a little dismayed, I still managed to make my greetings to the five new members of the crew as they passed by. All Furs too. At least they understood the importance of good manners when first meeting someone. I bobbed my head and fluffed my wings in friendly gestures, piping high greetings to them.

Even though I could not use their words, they responded with theirs. They approached calmly but brightly, all looking forward to a good voyage and a better payday.

"Hello, fine finch. I'm Second Officer Kuril, newly assigned here. I'm taking over Navigation." He was an older otter, an excellent spacing species of Fur. He carefully watched my gestures, almost interpreting them correctly and responding, "Thank you, it is a good post. Let's have a good jaunt together."

Very pleasing, at least someone knew how to behave.

Next came a mouse, white and gray-furred. No, not a pest - a Fur mouse. She slipped in close and extended her little paw to me, meeting my eyes, smiling. "Ruth, Engineer," she spoke quickly, as I touched her briefly with my wingtip.

It was always good to have a capable engineer, so they could fix whatever went wrong in a ship. Things constantly went wrong in any ship. I was pleased to see her listening to the vessel. She felt the joints and welds studiously as she passed through the narrow corridor to the engine room.

Next came two foxes. They approached, grinning happily. "Hello little guy... you are a guy, right?" asked the first.

I nodded my beak in confirmation. It really seemed impossible to tell gender in finches if you were not a finch.

"I'm Kuren and this is Eigren, my brother," the second replied. That explained why they looked so similar.

"We're the crew, so we'll see you around a lot, right?"

I nodded my beak again. They seemed familiar with my kind. They passed by, and began poking around the ship

Last was a young cat. Pretty ordinary, all tiger-striped in orange and cream. He looked thrilled and bounced up to me, eagerly. Startled, I jumped to the other side of the corridor.

When I say jump, I don't mean in the literal sense. Finches can jump through space-time. Oh, only for minuscule hops of a few feet, but it has been our key to success in accompanying the larger creatures into space.

In an instant, I was across the corridor and putting my claws down to rest on another railing there.

He turned to my new location, ears flattening in dismay, "I- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! This is my first assignment, and I've never met a finch before. I've only been up to the station a few times so...." His eyes watered, "Please don't hate me! I- I've seen finches here at the station, but never up close. You're beautiful, and I want to hear your song.... Please don't hate me?"

I nodded my beak cautiously and jumped back to my previous perch. After a few seconds of looking around, panicked, he spotted me. He dried his eyes quickly and looked around to see if anyone had seen his mistake. No Fur in view. I raised a wing edge to my ducked head in a gesture foreign to me, but that I knew was well understood by many larger beings. A "phweew" gesture across my bird brow.

He smiled, chagrined, "Yeah, sorry about that.... Will I see you at dinner? I'll give you a bit, my way of saying sorry?"

I nodded, suddenly looking forward to it. He seemed an honest child, a little gofer kid to help around the ship. This one looked barely old enough to ship out. There were strong laws against sending them out too young.

He grinned, and waving a fluffy paw, he diligently began to explore every nook and cranny of the ship. I jumped and hopped and flitted my way in little bits through the rest of the ship, checking on how things were going.

___The First Song___

I'd made quick checks on the ship and had headed to the finches' nest. The two mated pairs rested with the three chicks they watched. The shared nest was in the tiny space forward of the navigating computer, tucked in near the nose of the ship.

They were good couples, joining together in their efforts to raise their young brood. Not every finch couple worked with other pairs. It could prove a good safety measure, and I considered it beneficial to the chicks to grow in a stable environment. The three vulnerable chicks in various stages of development hopped around my claws.

"Hello," I greeted them with chirps, clicks, and gestures. This was the finch's natural tongue.

"Glen! Glen!" they yelled, excitedly wagging and flicking their tails. This is paraphrasing of course, since my name does not translate into words and finches cannot yell.

"I greeted the new crew today. A mixed bunch, all Furs, came aboard." I checked on the seven in the cramped space. The adults looked fine, although I was still worried. I'd heard it's always an uncertain time when a new Captain came on board. This was a whole new Captain and crew together. "Everything good here?"

"Yes," chirped green-plumed Susan, nudging her youngest chick closer to the nest.

"Hi, Glen! How did the greeting go?" asked Kate, the eldest of the three chicks. She was proud of her well-developed cream colored feathers, speckled all over in red and purple.

"It went pretty well. It seems like a good crew." I filled them in on the crew I'd met. Their names and reactions, then I hesitated, "I can't tell about the Captain yet. She didn't even acknowledge my presence when she came aboard."

The adults looked startled. Beck, a blue and green streaked female, even gave a tiny gasp.

"Maybe she's the type to think we're pests," Mike suggested, pulling in his bright yellow plumage uncertainly. He nudged his mate Beck with his beak, bringing them both reassurance.

"We don't know anything about her yet. Just wait and see how she behaves," Dave considered aloud. He was an unusual dark gray, speckled and striped with whites and tans. He was a steadfast bird and careful with his judgments; a good bird to talk to.

I nodded, the foreign gesture had long since been adopted by finches. I looked around for Dave's eldest offspring, just starting his fledging period. "Where's Jimmy?"

Little Kate hopped up, "He went to watch the crew after they arrived."

My green-tipped wing feathers twitched slightly in annoyance. I had told them to stay until I was sure we had a friendly crew. Oh well, the impetuous habits of youth. I focused my attention on my sensory nubs, feeling the local space-time. I felt the young finch jumping around the ship, in the crew quarters, probably. Distantly, I could also feel some of the jumps the space station finches were making.

"Well, it seems to be fairly safe, just be careful around the Captain and the ship's boy. Everyone, skip the Captain at dinner tonight. The cat's too inexperienced yet, so I'll cover him."

The four adults nodded, then returned their focus to the chicks as I took a breath and jumped away to Jimmy's location, settling on a light fixture.

He was flitting around in the room, jumping occasionally in his excitement. The two foxes and little cat laughed and talked to him brightly.

"There he goes, wow! Is he happy to see us?"

One fox, Eigren grinned at him as Jimmy's red plumage zipped around the room. "Yeah, see how he keeps tilting his head at different angles to look at us? Looks like he's as curious about you as you are of him."

"He's a young one, too. See how the coloring on his neck has softer edges?" Kuren pointed out.

"No! Where?" the boy demanded, eagerly craning his head.

"He's pretty young too. Probably hasn't been out and about for more than a few months," Kuren said

These foxes were pretty observant. Jimmy had only been jumping around the ship solo for the last three weeks. He'd met our last Captain, who could be trusted with a bumbling fledgling just learning how to jump. Otherwise, these were probably the first creatures outside finches he'd ever met.

"Is it a boy or girl?" the cat asked as Jimmy streaked to a top-bunk rim to sit and look some more. I realized I'd never gotten the cat's name.

"It's often hard to tell. But sometimes there's more reds on males, and more greens and creams on females," Eigren said, sitting on an opposite bunk.

"Also, males and females may have different curves to their faces. It takes a while, but you can learn to tell a little," Kuren said softly to the cat as all in the room settled down. They studied each other quietly.

The cat stepped forward slowly. Good, he was learning already.

"Are you a boy?" he asked, keeping his hands down and not coming too close.

Jimmy paused, then nodded. The two stared at each other, each examining the other closely.

Eigren said, "That's a good sign, boy. If he understands you at his age, it means their leader takes the responsibility of teaching the chicks seriously. Not every fledgling his age already understands words and not just chirps."

Well, I was puffing with pride, my yellow chest expanding. I was pleased that Jimmy had kept a wary distance from the large trio in the room. More pleasing was the compliment, especially from watchful foxes like these. They had apparently been long-accustomed to finches.

I continued to watch, my eyes flitting around, happily. There was no reason to interrupt. It was a good place to watch Jimmy and to be there if something happened. The others would not budge from the nest until dinner. I was comfortable and should not be easily noticed.

"The leader?" asked the cat.

"He was the one who greeted us at the airlock, remember?"

"He's their leader? Um..." he fidgeted, "is it okay that I asked him to show me his song sometime?"

Eigren chuckled and reached off the bunk to briefly ruffle the cat's headfur. "Yeah, finches don't have social boundaries like we do. And they seem to enjoy youngsters."

"Ah," the little cat said softly, his eyes still meeting Jimmy's. He looked enchanted by the red finch. Jimmy looked quite as fascinated as the cat.

The two foxes settled in to a game of cards on the bunk. Jimmy and the cat still stared. The cat's whiskers twitched and he brought up his paw to scratch his short, little muzzle. Jimmy cocked his head and brought his wing slowly up to touch his beak with his wrist. Well, the bird equivalent, which was near where the primaries sprouted.

"He's copying me!" the cat laughed, lowering his paw. Jimmy also lowered his wing.

"They're very good at that," said a fox, not bothering to look. Maybe they were even twins....

"There was this one that could mimic a cough very well. The pretty thing coughed all up and down the ship. Whenever we had a guest aboard, they thought the space flu had come aboard the ship," said Eigren, laughing but not looking. He was definitely louder than his brother.

It was quiet for a long moment, then I heard a sound. Oh my!

It started faintly, then rose and fell unsteadily. It smoothed only slightly and became fine notes trying their tune in the air.

It was Jimmy.... Jimmy's song.

I froze in shock and fascination. I had only heard a few songs, young as I was. I was no judge of quality, and I wasn't the target of the song.... But it was beautiful. Like getting bathed in the light of a star for the very first time. I could feel the faintest touch of connection through the notes as they rose and fell, rose and fell.

The foxes stilled, eyes closed. The unsteady tune filled the crew quarters, then slowly eased and stopped.

"Was that...."

"...That was his song," Kuren said softly, turning from the game to stare at Jimmy.

"Little bug sounds like he's not had much practice!" Eigren laughed, smacking his leg. "Good work, though little buddy. It's not too bad. You'll get better soon."

Kuren was silent, watching, eyes wide. Maybe he'd realized, maybe not. His look indicated he might have an idea.

"His song..." the cat's voice faded away.

Oh, they had no idea.... That was something special. That was....

Jimmy's first song!

___The Crew___

The cat sneezed, bringing everyone... except Eigren out of a shocked stillness.

Jimmy gave a squawk and jumped across the room, flying again.

"Sorry," an embarrassed cat called to him.

Jimmy recovered and jumped back to the top-bunk's rim.

After a long moment of relief, the cat asked, "What was that? In the song, I felt...."

"Don't worry kid, you usually can't describe it." Kuren stood up next to the cat and put a paw on his shoulder. "Thank you little one, I felt a brush of connection through your song too. I think you'll grow to have a wonderful song."

"I think they all have pretty songs," said Eigren, gathering up stray cards.

"I don't think you've ever actually been directed one," Kuren said.

Eigren paused, his gaze distant. "I have a few times." He was silent, lost in a memory perhaps.

"Believe me kid, it's something special," Kuren said, giving the cat's paw a squeeze in parting as he left the room. "I gotta go to the mess, see what food's there for dinner. Come find food in an hour!" he called from the corridor.

Eigren pulled out a personal comp tablet and ignored the rest of the room.

"Thank you for your song," said the cat bowing slightly in his earnestness. "I thought it was- it was amazing! Can we do it again? Would you mind? Could we?"

Jimmy's head feathers fluffed up. He looked very pleased as he nodded. He bobbed his head happily and jumped away, probably back to the nest.

I watched the room for a few more seconds, then jumped into a quiet maintenance tube to think.

It was Jimmy's first song. A uniquely special thing among Deneb Finches. Some finches saved theirs a while before trying it the first time. Some made sure their first time was to another finch, often to show appreciation and attraction between young finches. However, there was no use holding it back forever. Eventually, a finch's song was drawn out by its very nature. Sometimes, when a finch met a creature's eyes and gazed into them, the song rose in the throat until it simply came out.

It was the second reason why Deneb Finches had been so successful in populating space. The connections achieved through song could form a thread between creatures' very souls. Or so finches believed.

I was not sure if Jimmy had sung his song because it was drawn out of him, or if he had been inspired by seeing my songs with the previous Captain. Whatever the case, Jimmy was shockingly young to have shared a song. He had just fully fledged - as we didn't consider a full fledging until a finch reliably jumped. Often it was a few years before a fledgling sang. My own had been pretty early, but his....

Not only that, but the song had been more than just a few unpracticed notes. He had sung his way on, gaining strength. He had sung... maybe two minutes? At his age. Astounding.

His song made me realize again what I missed. I missed connecting with another with my own song. Oh, I could do it with finches sometimes, but it was always a different experience with another species.

The old Captain had liked me so much that he'd offered to take me planet-side with him, even with my flock. I'd had to refuse, of course. Planet life was simply not suited to my kind. Then, it seemed as if I should have gone and left this ship to be taken by whichever finches drifted by. I ached inside, mourning my loss. I was sure he felt the same. We had connected so many times in my song, I felt a piece of him would always remain with me.

Then, there was this new Captain. I didn't have enough information yet to form any kind of opinion.

I needed to know.

I jumped through the ship, into the Captain's quarters. I landed on another lighting fixture and looked around. She was unpacking her belongings into the drawers built into the room, humming a happy tune. That was good, at least she was not grumpy on her first day. Then she glanced up and saw me.

Her eyes widened. "Scram!" she yowled. "Get out! What are you even doing in here?!"

I jumped away, not even sure what to think of a reaction like that. What the hell? I was only hanging out on her hull. I jumped off to the bridge, and the old otter looked up and smiled. I jumped near him and clicked my beak in greeting.

I met his gaze and gestured with my beak, giving a questioning chirp.

"Oh, her? Don't worry, little one," Kuril said secretively. "She's pretty new to this. Just needs some adjustment time, little mate." He turned back to the console he'd been working on. "Your old crew did a pretty good job getting this girl ready for us."

I nodded, my wings sagged.

"Miss 'em eh? Big change like this can be pretty rough." He tapped at the screen's rim for a moment, deep in thought. He suddenly brightened, "Cheer up. It's all new for everyone. I've never worked with these Furs either. If you want, you can visit me any time." He waggled his whiskers at me.

I nodded. If my species could have smiled, I would have. I bobbed my head in farewell, and jumped away.

I appeared in various places, making my way to the engine room. I skipped the Captain's quarters, jumping into the corridor instead. The cat and Eigren were still in crew quarters. The cat was on a bunk lost in his thoughts. The other fox, Kuren, was in the joined galley and mess area, busily preparing food. On and on, jumping, hopping, flitting in flight through the storage hold and to the engine room.

The engines were cool, idling while the ship was docked. The little gray and white mouse - what was her name? Yes... Ruth.... Ruth had her nose stuck into some crevice near the port-side FTL drive.

They called it Faster Than Light, we called it... well it never translates well, but jumping and hopping is close. Thrusting and wrenching might also be close, but those words are harsher. Their machines did it in a bulky and brutish manner. Our natural method was subtle and quick. Granted, theirs was vastly more powerful than ours, reaching far distances across the galaxy.

Ruth pulled her nose out, whiskers twitching with dust. She saw me and smiled. "Excellent. Greetings again fellow critter. Help me with something?"

I nodded and jumped to a nearby cord. I clung their with familiarity. I often spent a lot of time in the engine room, even though it was uncomfortable being so close to the drives. I took my responsibility very seriously. I chirped and tilted my head at her.

"Well, it's this," she replied pointing to the little open port. "I think it's just a little thing, but I want to make a good impression on this first jaunt. You know?"

I nodded vigorously. Exactly my thoughts all day.

She grinned, "Great. Um, don't mean to be rude... but can you pic?" She started slightly, "Either way works, it's just faster if you can. Can you?"

I nodded again. I knew what she'd meant. She meant sending and image to another's mind through our song. Not many finches could do it.

"Right, can you flit in there and take a peek at the wiring? I just get this feeling in my whiskers that something is off in there."

I flew lightly down to the little opening, showing my green-tipped flight feathers. Examining the space, I hopped carefully in. Then, when the space narrowed, I made tiny jumps. We're excellent space-time jumpers, so I could wedge into tiny spaces without using my muscles. We're naturally efficient, so there was not enough residual energy to have disturbed the native currents in the shielded wire.

I panted slightly in the restricted space. Bird species in general are highly efficient creatures, but we do require constant breathing. The tight space pressed on my air sacs and I instinctively wanted to jump away. Instead, I held myself together and looked around, sensing the space with my sensory nubs as well. When I was satisfied, I hopped right back out into the larger space.

"Anything? Or is it my imagination again?" She relaxed and gazed at me.

She appeared well practiced. I looked into her eyes and sang a few notes, feeling a connection ease into place. I showed her what I'd seen. A few notes were all I needed.

The insulation shielding on one wire was cracked. Probably simply from age or the dry air. It could have even been bent differently after years of one angle. This was not a new ship, of course.

She sighed, "At least I know it's actually something and not just me being funny about it." She paused, tapping a fluffy, white fingertip on her cheek. "Hmmm, doesn't look like much of a problem, though, does it?"

I shrugged. Another adopted gesture. Finches used them as much as Furs, even among themselves.

"You think I should take care of it anyway?"

I shrugged again. It wouldn't be a problem for a while.

"It will become a problem eventually. Yes? I think so."

I nodded.

"Right. Best take care of it now, then. Afterwards," she gestured towards me with a wrench as she rooted in a small tool chest, "we go have some dinner."

I chirped. It really was good to have a responsive engineer on board. I could get used to this.

"Could you point out which wire? Only if you're sure, mind. Save me time there."

I jumped to the exposed port and looked at the wires, pecking gently at one. Then I jumped to the far end of the wire's run, showing her.

She carefully removed the wire from its connections and pulled it out. "Yeah, it's not bad, but let's switch it out anyway."

I nodded and fluffed my feathers happily. She moved efficiently and carefully. She seemed a little different than other Furs, but that was pretty common in good engineers.

"Finished!" She stretched, "I'm hungry. You hungry?"

I chirped and opened my wings, jumping out of engineering in a few hops.

Time for dinner.