Brandon examined the fine grit at the bottom of his chipped glass. His hand felt numb like it didn't even belong to him. An alien hand. He wondered how his drink had emptied so quickly. What is that substance? He gave it a swirl struggling to focus. No matter. He threw back the dregs.

"Another mate?" asked the bartender. Brandon looked up and saw six eyes on the large gruff creature serving drinks. He shook his head and they merged back into three.

"Whyyy not?" said Brandon wobbling a bit on his stool. He grabbed the edge of the bar to steady himself and glanced around. Rough place they had landed. Packed with riffraff from across the galaxy, a line wound out the door and around the outside of the grimy watering hole. One at a time, various aliens and humanoids entered through the medieval-looking metal turnstile and underwent inspection by a toothless muscular bouncer with scales resembling maces. The clientele here on Rodos, particularly the ones at this joint, weren't much less intimidating. He stared dazed through the thick smoky haze. An intergalactic band tuned bizarre instruments on a small stage. The turnstile was clearly the only exit should a fight erupt. In his mind, he pictured tentacles, scales, and limbs all smashed into its metal spokes and laughed. He should be nervous but his heart ached too badly care. Whatever he'd been throwing back for the last three hours had certainly helped him relax too.

He caught glimpses from time to time of his crew, drunk, celebrating the success of their mission, and mingling with the colorful crowd, hitting on all manner of creatures, hellbent on getting laid.

Brandon wasn't in the mood. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he could live with himself.

The band started up. Oh, dear God is there no place in the galaxy where one can escape cheesy music from the 1980s. How has it endured through the centuries? "Always on my Mind," threatened to ruin Brandon's intoxication.

"There you are!" A tall beautiful woman with a regal air about her put a strong hand on Brandon's shoulder. She looked out of place. A slow ballad began to play and the crowd lit lighters and various torches and began to sway along to the music.

"Oh, Shay," said Brandon. He thought he might cry, suddenly longing to put his head on her shoulder and weep.

"We have a problem," she said looking disgusted at Brandon's intoxicated state. She held him at arm's length. Brandon looked up clearly struggling to remain upright, let alone focus. "The Lacedian embryos were implanted and left unattended."

Brandon staggered back. "Impossible," he said, shocked, but his heart soared. She's alive! A large Rodian thug threw a punch at his pal and his green blood splattered hitting Brandon in the cheek. Fists began to fly, and within a split second, the alcohol-soaked bar was ablaze.

"We need to get out of here now!" screamed Shay above the melee. "Come this way, I know a secret exit!" She yanked Brandon behind the bar and shoved him down a hatch in the floor.