And Tintin searches himself for a story. Nothing with slavers, and he's already told the story of the Red Desert... actually he's told most of his stories. Maybe he can - well.

He's told most of his stories.

"This is, in fact, a story that I have not told before," Tintin says. "It would have broken a deep confidence, had I told it to anyone in my galaxy. But none of you know the woman it concerns, and I don't think even she can find me here. And I do not actually like her. She's a terrible person. So, if you're interested, I can tell you the story of the Queen of the Night Winds."

    "Ominous. Props for the intro," says Sendhei.

"Stop with the commentary and just enjoy it," replies Taharqi, lightly punching his arm. "I'm interested."

So Tintin launches into his story.

He was on Omega. Many of his stories take place on Omega; it's a storied place. He was called in to the office of Aria T'Loak, its pirate queen.

She had a problem. She was being blackmailed.

"I recognize that this is a problem for you," Tintin had said, "but I fail to see how it concerns me."

"It concerns you," she said sweetly, "because I am the one thing keeping this station from boiling over and collapsing. There are eight million souls living here. Without me, not only will most of them die when, inevitably, someone fails to keep the ventilation running... but the remainder, the worst of the pirates and the slavers and the traffickers, will be unleashed on an unsuspecting galaxy."

"...so, you're the only one who can keep Omega merely a festering boil, rather than a dangerous abscess."

"Precisely."

"I suppose I have no choice, then."

Aria revealed the subject of her blackmail: she was, in truth, not merely an asari, but an Ardat-Yakshi - a monster from asari legend, one who melds not to soothe, communicate or bear young, but to rip the very soul from her victims.

"It's not actually their souls, of course," she said casually. "Studies show that what happens to the victim is a massive neural overload, and what happens to the monster herself is... more of a transmission of data. My biotics grow more powerful as this information incorporates itself, providing my system with raw genetic data from which it can work to perfect me. I have certain abilities that other asari lack... but, ultimately, I'm no monster, just a woman with more than her peers."

"That's not why you're a monster at all," Tintin agreed.

She flashed him a grin. "I'm glad we understand each other. But if my... condition.... were revealed, then asari space would view my continued existence as more of a threat than the conditions caused by my death. They really have no idea what a full-grown Ardat-Yakshi can do, and they don't want to find out. And I don't want them to find out, either. Find the leak. Deal with it. I need you because unlike my underlings, no one would think you would work for me - and I don't know who I can trust, except someone who has no reason to trust me."

The action of the story is relatively standard Tintin fare. There are interwoven plots, conspirators unmasked in sequence and simultaneously, and in the end, he'd solved half a dozen problems that had nothing to do with Aria's little problem. But eventually he unmasked the true mastermind, a batarian with designs to rule the station as a subsidiary of the Hegemony.

"Why would you care who rules Omega, little rat?" the batarian had asked, gun to Tintin's throat. "You're a human. You can live in Citadel space, pretend the stink of the Terminus systems doesn't reach you at all. I'll usher in a new age of prosperity, leave Aria's reign a footnote in the history books!"

"And from Omega, you'd launch a pirate fleet to expand the Terminus, harry the Council, and take more slaves for your masters," Tintin had said, deceptively calm. "Aria T'Loak is a monster. She's a tyrant. But do you know what she isn't?"

The batarian bared his teeth. "What."

"My problem."

The hidden sniper put a bullet through the batarian's head, and Tintin gave them a two-fingered salute. "Tell your employer," he called, "that I'm not working for her again. No matter how much she pays me."

The sniper dropped to the floor of the aeroduct and smirked, her blue skin half-luminous in the fluorescent light. "Tell her yourself," she murmured.

Everyone looks entranced throughout, and Tintin continues to be an amazing storyteller. Raziya looks a little bit like she wishes he weren't only interested in men.

"And did you?" asks Sendhei. "Tell her yourself, that is?"

"Oh, yes, I sent her a very strongly worded message. She responded with... I don't know how to explain the context to an Iron Age audience... instead of writing a response she sent me, um, a picture of her genitalia and the words 'anytime, cowboy'. 'Cowboy' here means someone who plays by his own rules."

He pulls up the message on his omni-tool and projects it. It's very blue. Also, a remarkably well-shot photograph.

Sendhei bursts out laughing and Raziya peers at it with interest. Horan just looks befuddled, as does Taharqi. "So she... propositioned to you," he clarifies.

"I think she was mostly making fun of me, but that was the way she chose to do so, yes."

"I feel like I only vaguely understand how a proposition could be used to make fun of someone and only by loose local analogy."

"Mm - I believe she knew I was homosexual, and therefore not interested, first of all. Second, even if I were interested in women, she knew that I found her repulsive as a person - her being a murderous pirate and all. It's distantly possible she was also aware of my, uh, sexual timidity, she had that kind of intel - or she might have just worked it out from interacting with me, she was socially brilliant. And, of course, she knew that I wouldn't sleep with her or, for that matter, touch her bare-handed, because she was an Ardat-Yakshi and could reduce my nervous system to gelatin."

Sendhei mouths the word 'homosexual' after Tintin says it, as if tasting something new and exotic.

"I figured something like that was going on, I just did not quite understand how that would translate to 'making fun of you'. The kind of way I am used to people using sexual proclivities to mock others typically involves likening them to beasts or implying they do it badly."

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I think she just wanted to make me make a face."

"...ah. Yes, I can see that."

    "What face did you make?" asks Sendhei.

Tintin attempts an approximation.

He peers and scratches his chin. "That just looks cute."

Tintin beams. "Aria never got to see it in person, so I'm glad you appreciate it."

    "I do!"

"Alright, so, I should get some furs and set them about for people to sleep. Pr...obably what makes the most sense in terms of space is one of you down here, and two of you upstairs?" He starts collecting the various bowls and cups that contained their dinner.

Tintin is entirely amenable to sleeping wherever is most convenient.

Raziya wants to be downstairs with Sendhei so Horan and Tintin can go upstairs. Taharqi has a "bed" that's basically a tight hammock tied to short wooden legs, and it's only marginally more comfortable than the furs themselves but he says he can build ones for the others the following day if they want.

Tintin loves hammocks, as it turns out. "I don't see why we ever stopped using this technology," he says delightedly, swinging gently back and forth.

"I would have expected some not-magical bed of super comfort, personally."

"Oh, they're comfortable, but they don't move! Unless you pay entirely too much for one that moves on its own, and those mostly just rumble discomfitingly. I'm sure you can get a hammock - maybe even one more comfortable than this, this feels like it's probably hemp and I might expect synthetic silk for a high-end modern hammock - but I never considered them, mostly if you want to sleep in the field you'll just have a sleeping bag and if you're sleeping at home you have a mattress. If I ever get home I will certainly invest in a hammock."

"The moving is not so great for when you're trying to actually sleep but thankfully I don't personally move that much in my sleep."

"Speak for yourself, I'm used to sleeping on starships - you can't really feel the inertia because of the artificial gravity and the closed reference frame but if it's an old ship you can feel something."

"Well, far be it from me to discourage you from enjoying it."

Tintin presses a quick kiss to Taharqi's lips. "You have a lovely home," he says, "and you have been very patient while I acclimated myself to it."