"We will be exiting slipspace in 45 minutes, relative earth time," came the voice over the PA, "Please begin to move towards your designated realspace positions."
Captain Caskar sighed as he entered the observation area. He needed to be back on the bridge for reversion, but wanted to let his stomach settle after his breakfast. He thought that perhaps the bacon may have been slightly too much considering the toll reversion always takes on his system. As he moved towards the centre he spotted The Emissary by the main window, gazing deep into the void of slipspace.
"Beautiful isn't it," he said as he came up next to the Emissary at the window, "I never get tired of seeing it."
"I just wish reversion didn't hit me quite so hard," he continued with a smile, "Still, it's worth it for the view".
"Yes," replied the Emissary, "The beauty of the beyond lights a fire in all voyagers' hearts. However, I was actually admiring your ship as opposed to the scenery. It is beautiful for a warship. Elegant ...but deadly."
"Oh? I agree with you there. She's a beauty alright," said Caskar like a proud father, "Pride of the fleet. There isn't a ship that'll match her pound for pound this side of the Galaxy."
The Emissary frowned slightly at that, and gazed out silently at the ship once more. Caskar glanced at the Emissary's face and puzzled at the frown painted there. A tough choice faced him now. He could either attempt to break the silence and root out his passengers' troubles, or he could return to the bridge and prepare for realspace reversion.
"Is there something wrong, Your Excellency?" Caskar asked, deciding that he didn't want to go to the bridge yet and try to prepare to stomach reversion. Looking after a guest was a Captain's duty as well, he thought to himself.
"No nothing is wrong, Captain," replied the Emissary in a quiet voice.
"It's just..." the Emissary continued before falling silent once more.
"Just what?" Caskar asked, more curious now than anything else, all ideas of going to the bridge having disappeared.
The Emissary turned to face Caskar and looked down at him, staring straight into his eyes. The Captain wasn't exactly a small man, but the Emissary was a good head taller than him, though half his width with a long slim angular body. The eyes of the Emissary were as expressionless as ever sunken into their pale almost bone white face.
"She," the Emissary continued finally, ending their staring contest with a word.
"You called your ship, she," the Emissary continued, an unspoken question in their voice.
"Yes, she. All human ships are female," he responded nonplussed at the confusion coming from the Emissary.
"All your ships are female," responded the Emissary louder this time, "This I know, but do not understand. My real question is the name. Why?" The final word was stamped down almost as a demand.
Caskar paused at what had to be the loudest most authoritative sentence he had heard from the Emissary in the entire trip. This question must have been bothering them for a while, thought the Captain, though he was pleased to have finally gotten to the core of his passenger's worries.
"Ahh the name. Of course. Your people don't name their ships, do they?" replied Caskar with the air of confidence of a detective finally uncovering the mastermind, "I suppose that makes sense for you. Your species goes by their function instead of a name after all."
"As for us, all human ships have names, the same way all humans have names. It's just what we do."
The Emissary stared back at Caskar blankly, their face devoid of expression or emotion. Seeing this, Caskar's own expression descended into consternation.
"Hmmm. I guess that doesn't really cut your mustard, huh? Well no worries, I can give you a bit more detail," he started with a daring wink to the Emissary.
"Humans have long had a habit of naming inanimate objects that are dear to them. I think we may have always done it. It conveys a sense of kinship and bestows a kind of personhood or spirit."
"If you use a knife for long enough, you begin to see that it has its own personality, its own way of cutting. Same with swords, I guess. I think that's why so many have names," he said gesturing a cutting motion with his hand as he did so, like he was a samurai of old.
"Because it bestows a spirit. Or maybe it just recognises the spirit already laying within the thing itself?" Caskar had clearly become quite immersed in his own lecture.
"Regardless, it is a way of connecting with something that you hold dear. A way of recognising value and companionship. I think there were a few culture's back in the old days that thought some objects came to life if used for long enough. Or was that just a movie?"
"Anyway, for a ship her name is more than just a designation. It's a way of showing her personality. At the end of the day she's more than just a vessel, she's a member of the crew," he added passionately, having finally brought the topic back to the original question.
"The final most important member. If you look after her, she'll look after you. Like a mother. Yeah, I suppose a ship is a mother to all those who board her, keeping them safe from harm. Carrying her weary children from port to port."
"Does that make sense? Or am I just blabbering nonsense at you?" he asked, realising that he had effectively been ranting at an important dignitary.
The Emissary stared at the Captain blankly, before slowly tilting their head to the left and leaning in towards him. Their faces were now less than a foot apart.
"Thank you Captain, for that interesting delve into human culture," they intoned quietly, "I am always fascinated to discover new things about your people. However, I believe you may have misunderstood my question."
"Oh? Sorry about that. When I get an idea in my head it can get difficult to shake it,"Caskar responded sheepishly, embarrassed by his earlier gusto, "What was your actual question then?"
"Captain, rather than wondering why your species' ships are named in general, I was asking specifically why your ship has its name."
Leaning even closer, they asked, "Why would your people name a ship that?"
Caskar paused for a moment before leaning back and letting out a large laugh as a big almost boyish grin formed on his face. His laughter rang out around them in big guffaws. The Emissary frowned at the response and returned to their previous upright position, with their head no longer askew.
"Haha. Oh, you mean why is she called Kindest Regards?" he asked, still chuckling and oblivious to the diplomatic faux pas he had just unfurled like a happy flag, "It's a joke!"
"A joke? Your species named a warship as a joke?"
For the first time in their entire conversation -and indeed in the entire journey- emotion was present in the Emissary's voice.
"Yeah! A funny joke too. Got 'em good with that one."
"Why would you name a warship as a joke?" the Emissary asked, clearly not as amused by the joke as the Captain was, "For what possible reason would you ever do this?"
The Emissary's incredulity was now showing on their previously expressionless face. Their mouth had formed a frown as previous diplomatic training and emotional control were overridden by pure shock.
Looking at the obvious confusion on the face of his previously blank companion, Caskar began to pull himself together. There was a time for laughter and then there was a time for Captaining! he thought to himself. A breakdown in diplomatic relations with an ally was going to look bad on his personnel file, even if it wasn't a joke. They'd probably make him Captain a salvage ship if that happened, trawling battlefields for scrap. Besides, a joke's only really funny if everyone's in on it, he reasoned.
"Well, this ship entered service right as the war with the Teluthians began," Caskar responded deadpan, having finally managed to erase his previously uncontrollable mirth, "Have you ever had dealings with the Teluthians?"
The Emissary shook their head immediately, clearly pleased they were at last getting to the bottom of the madness.
"No? Well apparently they're very formal. Right before the war began they sent a missive listing all of their demands. One of which was the Moon of Chrosus, which has a rather sizeable shipyard on it. A shipyard where, coincidentally, this ship had just finished construction. Now their letter ended with threats of war and grave consequences if their demands weren't met. It also included the specific detail that their fleet was on their way to take possession of the moon."
"Now this clearly ruffled the feathers of the guys in diplomatic command. So do you know what they did?" he asked, beginning to grin again, "They wrote their own missive."
"I think it began with the words, 'Dear Telosers' and well, it got worse from there. However the key thing is how they ended it."
The Captain's voice took on a low, almost conspiratorial tone as he spoke, "They ended it, with the immortal words, 'The only thing we will be giving your fleet is our Kindest Regards.'"
His wry smile had turned into a wolfish grin.
"And that's exactly what they got."
The Emissary stared deep into Caskar's eyes as the moment held for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually the Emissary turned away looking once more out into the abyss of slipspace and the name emblazoned on the side of the ship.
"Their fleet was wiped out?" the Emissary asked, calm having at last returned to their voice.
"Naturally. As you yourself put it, elegant ..but deadly. They didn't stand a chance."
The Emissary turned to him again, glancing at his delighted expression before once more turning back to the beyond and the beautiful ship.
"Thank you Captain. I believe I have reached an even greater understanding of your people," they said, unmoving from the viewport.
"Happy to help!" Caskar replied, pleased to have at last put his guests' troubles to rest. "Is there anythi-''.
Before he could continue this thought a voice rang out over the ship's PA.
"Captain, can you please come to the bridge for pre-reversion checks."
"Uggh," he groaned, realising that reversion was coming soon, whether his stomach wanted it or not.
"I have to go, your Excellency. We can continue our discussion in realspace. I suggest you head to your cabin now. Reversion can be jarring if you're standing."
The Emissary nodded in response, as Caskar left to tend to his duties. The Emissary continued to gaze out at the ship, before turning at last to leave for their cabin. As they exited they paused for a moment and a wry chuckle escaped their expressionless face.
"Kindest Regards, huh? Funny."