“Your request for round rocks we have processed,” the Principal Nestor of Jul II stated. She dipped her head, with its multilensed eyes, and uncurled a clawed hand-thing. The gesture finished somewhere beyond the pickup range of the commscreen. “But this peet-zah thing I am uncertain. Datafiles indicate it is a Human food. We do not available have this Human food.”

Ia smirked. She was taking this call in the briefing room forward of the bridge after a good night’s sleep. “That’s because you are fat, and covered in velvet.”

The Nestor lowered her head farther, eye-skins puckering a little. “I do not…Ah. Illogic. You are courting me?”

“I’m declaring war on you,” Ia countered calmly. “I think you’re too purple, and you smell when you sneeze.”

The Principal Nestor blinked a sideways-sliding membrane over her compound eyes. “Dlmvla do not sneeze. Regrettable it is, you cannot breathe with us. I think you are…metal foot garment. With lactations. For a Human. Anything else?”

Ia dipped her head in turn. “Nothing else. I look forward to firing upon your people in unprovoked madness, then inviting you into my home. Thank you for handling my extra request, Principal Nestor. I hope you like the vidshows I used for payment. They’re more than old enough, copyright doesn’t apply.”

“Comedy entertainment transcends madness between our species. Copyrights are madness to exist at double the artist’s life. Another point of similarity. Feathery secretions upon you,” the Nestor added. “End transmission.”