Stiphalis silk

<snip>
A wavy image replaced Holly's face on the monitor, it was distorted but Alex could make out the ships. They hung in defensive formation around a large asteroid, on which sat a huge sign.: “LEAVE, HUMAN SCUM.” 
To Alex's addled mind, it looked as though it may have been written in blood. A lot of blood.
<end snip>

Where: Drive room
When: After Marilyn left

Seymour was pushing his wheelchair from desk to desk, and was getting extremely flustered and out of breath. When Alex walked in, Seymour turned to greet him with urgency. “Mister Solvay, thank god you've arrived. We need you expertise.”
Alex looked from desk to desk, where crewmembers were busy getting down to business and pressing buttons, shouting over to each other. It felt a little bit like Star Trek, where everyone actually seemed to know what they were doing. Alex nodded and walked over. He grinned. Seymour wanted him. Seymour never wanted him. Finally the stuffy Ambassador was recognising his Engineering and repair skills, and accepting him as a valuable crewmember.
“I need you to push me around, my arms are killing me!” He said, turning his back. “Now push me over to the sensor desk!”
Alex sighed and obliged.

Jacky Kong was there, pressing buttons at the sensor computer, scanning their attackers. Next to him Cass was cross-checking the scans with their database.
“Who are they?” Seymour barked.
“No idea, the ships are fairly small. They're made of Aluminium and neutronium. We've never encountered them before.”

Seymour grunted, then clicked his fingers to Alex and pointed to the Navigation desk. Efof Yuwan'Kar was there, jabbing buttons. “Can we escape?”
“Nope.” Said the Ffionian. “They're much faster than us.”

“Dammit!” Seymour slammed his hands down onto the remaining stubs of his legs. “It's a trap. That bloody Monroe woman sent us into a trap!”

“Boop-oop-a-doop” said a voice behind him, Seymour swivelled to see Marilyn, he hands on her hips, obviously not happy with Seymour's accusation.
“That woman?” She said.
Finger waved his finger in the air to indicate he wanted to be pushed closer, so Alex obliged, pushing Seymour a bit too far so his head was almost between her bosoms. “Back back you idiot!” Seymour commanded, until he could look up at the STCP agent.
“This is a trap!” He shouted to her. Then looked to his left where Garr Bedge was sharpening his fist. Seymour wasn't a fan of having the simulant around, but in times like this it was useful to have a tough guy to order the dirty work.
“Mr Bedge. Seize her!”
Monroe quickly pulled a gun. “Don't!” She warned the Simulant. “This is a chrono-aging gun, I can make any part of your body older or younger just by shooting. I can give you the arms lungs of a 90 year old man, or the legs of a toddler.
Bedge ignored her and stepped closer, slamming his fist into his palm. She fired and a green pulse of energy turned his arms into tiny chubby baby's arms. Bedge swung them, but they were little more than tiny sausages swivelling at his shoulders. Marilyn fired again, turning them back. Bedge remained still, he'd learned his lesson.

What happened next took Marilyn by surprise. She never expected Seymour to grab her weapon, she assumed he was a frail man in a wheelchair. Which was true of course. But he did snatch the gun, and quickly fired it at his forehead.
“What are you doing?” She snapped, and watched as Seymour's forehead wrinkles disappeared. “I wanted to get rid of my worry lines. You might not realise, but I've got a lot to worry about. The stress of being lost deep in space, wondering if my daughter is okay, and the possibility that I'll never see an Italian Opera ever again.” Seymour pulled out a picket mirror and looked at his much more youthful face. “Ahh, much better.”
Agent Monroe took the gun back.
“Er... Seymour why didn't you use it to get your legs back?”
“Oh bugger. That would have been a better idea!” Seymour said.

Monroe shook her head.
“So agent Miss Monroe, could you please explain a few things for us. Why are we here? What do you want us to do? Why are we being attacked?”

“Relax” She said. “If you check your scanners, their weapons are primitive. It'll take them ages to do any real damage.”
“Who are they?”
“A race called the Stiphalis. They evolved from a discarded condom left on an asteroid. They decided to exterminate all Humans after seeing a video clip of Justin Bieber. In a hundred years they'll become mankind's greatest enemy.”
“Never heard of them.” Seymour said.
“That's because in 1 hour their entire race is going to be wiped out by the Stunklmop comet which is heading towards them. They don't even see it coming.”
“And...” Seymour said impatiently.
“And I want you to save them by destroying the comet.”
Seymour scrunched his face up. “But you just said they'll become Mankind's greatest enemy.”
She nodded.
“So why save them?”
“Because they'll make great technological advancements, including how to make this amazing silk which just looks darling when made into a dress.”
“Sorry, what?”
She took out a small handkerchief from her pocket and gave to Seymour, who rubbed it against his face. “Oh yes, that's exquisite!”
“I know!” She said. “But they won't make it unless you save them from extinction.
“Oh this is amazing, I can imagine a fine suit made out of thi... no. Wait. No! What about all the Humans they'll kill?”
“A small price to pay.” She said. “Wouldn't it feel stupendous as a shirt, they do these amazing cufflinks too!”
Seymour beamed, then turned to the rest of the crew who were looking horrified at the little moment he and Monroe were sharing. “Set course for the comet, it would be a crime to rid the world of Stiphalis silk!”

OOC – tag, what do the rest of the crew think? Should they let the Human-hating Stiphalis become extinct or save them just so Seymour can get a new suit?