"Sir. We're now nearing the outermost planet of the system."

Captain Arzeppia replied, "Very well, Chula. Drop to one third of light and call me when we're in orbit around the largest gas giant."

"Yes, sir," answered the helmsman just before the transit tube doors snapped shut behind her new captain.

Arzeppia allowed himself no thoughts beyond those required to navigate the corridor to his stateroom. Once inside, the mask dropped. A flood of unfamiliar emotions washed over the captain. The responsibilities he faced were overwhelming, while at the same time he felt a tremendously uplifting exultation. The change of command ceremony hadn't even happened yet, and here he was, about to lead the first exploration of potentially habitable planets in his ship's long history. He considered it a good thing that he had as much privacy as he did, otherwise he'd be embarrassed.

Arzeppia shook himself out of his reverie and crossed the stateroom to pour himself another cup of steaming paniche. The bitter brown liquid was his only vice. While the drink cooled, Arzeppia prepared his dress uniform for the evening's change of command ceremony.

"Guess I'd better try this on," he muttered. "Mirror," he ordered. Arzeppia admired his reflection briefly, then picked up his cup and took a healthy swig just as the comm system chimed for his attention.

"Captain, we're now entering orbit around the sixth planet as ordered."

"Thank you, Chula. I'll be right there." Damn, how long was I daydreaming?

The captain exited his stateroom, cup in hand, and promptly crashed into a crewmember who was moving with purpose. Paniche flew, soaking the captain's perfect dress shirt.

"Damn!"

"Oh my stars! I'm sorry, Captain!" pleaded the brand new officer.

"Not your fault, Sadie. Do you think this stain will come out?"

"If it's possible, cleaning would certainly be faster than tailoring a new one. I can call the quartermaster for you."

"Fine. See what she can do. The restrictions we've imposed on ourselves in order to have more living space mean this is my only dress uni, with the ceremony coming up tonight."

"I'll take care of it, sir. I'll wait here while you change."

Arzeppia changed quickly and handed his dirty shirt to the third watch propulsion assistant. "Thank you, Sadie. Have the quartermaster contact me when it's ready," he said.

"Yes sir," said Sadie as both officers departed for their destinations.

"The third planet looks the most promising, sir. We've determined the local day to be slightly shorter than the homeworld. Gravity is estimated at approximately 0.95 and the time of orbit around the primary is 365 local days, also somewhat shorter than the homeworld. Conditions are currently atrocious. Volcanic and seismic activity are constant, no life, no breathable atmosphere. World-seeding must be done carefully, with patience being the key. It'll take about 100,000 of our cycles to be livable."

"The fourth planet looks alright as well, although it'd probably require more artificial heat generation and trapping gases," mused the captain.

"Yes sir. Folks from our polar regions should be quite comfortable there," said Chula."

"So be it. Prepare a plan to seed the third and fourth planets. Collaborate with the rest of the senior staff. Have your plan ready for presentation after tonight's ceremony. You may call your relief now to free you for planning."

"Yes sir!" answered Chula.

"Your uniform shirt is ready, sir."

"Fine. Bring it to my cabin, now."

"Here you go, sir," said the quartermaster.

"Wow! This looks great," said the captain. "How'd you do it? I thought our rules requiring conservation of energy and matter reduced you to using water and detergents."

"Yes sir. Water and detergent," said the quartermaster.

"No ordinary detergent removed that stain," said the captain, with only slight accusation.

"No sir. When I was junior quartermaster, I bioengineered a special enzyme additive for our detergent."

"Uh oh." Warning bells went off in the captain's mind. "How long have you been using this enzyme detergent?"

"Only about half a cycle, sir."

"And how have you disposed of the waste?" asked the captain.

"So far, I've only collected and stored the residual slurry after the water recycler reclaimed the clean water, sir."

"Good!" said the captain, relieved mightily. "What is your plan for disposal?"

"I thought I'd just space it when the collection vat was full."

"Oh no. That will never do," said Arzeppia. "Prepare a plan for proper disposal. Have it ready for my approval by this time tomorrow. I would be remiss in my duties if I did not remind you now of your sacred responsibilities."

"You mean the ones about new life and contamination of seeded worlds?" asked the quartermaster.

"That's right. Enzymes are made of amino acids, the building blocks of life," said Arzeppia. "Any member of the race of man who creates new life becomes responsible for that new life, whatever form it may take," continued the captain, now quoting regulations. "Contamination of previously unseeded worlds with new life forms carries the most severe punishment: immediate ascension to the higher plane in order to take on caretaker responsibilities for said world."

"Wow! I hadn't thought of it in those terms."

"Yes," said the captain. "And just think how badly you'd screw it all up without the experience of your remaining time on the physical plane. What are you, after all, a couple hundred cycles old?"

"That's right, sir. Two-hundred and twenty to be exact."

"So you'd miss out on almost three-thousand, eight-hundred cycles of a pretty pleasant life on the physical plane," said Arzeppia, now in a fatherly tone.

"I know already what I'll do, sir. I'll incinerate the slurry behind the ship's main engine when we de-orbit. I don't need that kind of responsibility. I haven't even had kids yet. How could I hope to run a world?"

"Fine. Have a nice day, Jehovah."