Greetings all.

Thank you all for your feedback and comments. I am very grateful to you all.

Once again I don't own any of this, I'm just trying to piece together a story, so any ideas, art etc is most appreciated

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“Balls”

“yes…”

“Oi! Eyes up here!”

David barely resisted the urge to thunk his head against the door frame as he regarded the two crew women standing outside his door, having unfortunately only had time to scramble into his dressing gown and slippers when he’d heard knocking at the door.

“Now now, I know damn well you can't see anything, and your chances of ever seeing anything are getting slimmer with every second you stare! Now how can I help you?”

The threat, tame as it was, clearly managed to get through to the women, their eyes snapping up to meet his as they shuffled from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder into the room behind him and generally looking anywhere but his face.

Sighing David simply leaned into their field of vision, “I have a very busy day of staring at the wall ahead of me ladies, so let's get on with this, shall we? What are you supposed to be telling me?”

“Well… um, the Captain wishes to invite you to dinner in the Officers’ Wardroom”

“I see, and it took two of you to tell me this? It's not even breakfast yet”

“Well, I was supposed to tell you!”

“No, you weren’t! you just tried to see the human!”

“She expressly pointed at me!”

“Empresses tits she did! You just want to see some….”

The door hissed shut as David gave up, turning back to his bed and flopping down with a groan, burying his face in the sheets. “Goddamed jocks the lot of em” he muttered to himself.

He supposed he’d brought this on himself really. The trip was taking a month to get from Earth to Shil and it was only the third week. His side hustle with Korva had already raked in a sizable amount of bartering material and cash as well as gossip which, he’d pointed out to Korva, was sometimes worth more than people thought if there was proof to go with it. The demand for pictures of human males was running at a fever pitch, and he hadn’t even had to take off his underwear yet to keep the goods rolling in. If he was honest with himself, it was almost pathetic, he was fit but he was hardly a muscle-bound bodybuilder or the slender feminine sort. He sat on the cusp of early stages “Dad bod”, which embarrassed him slightly as he was only 25.

Well, if there's demand, and he was the only source of supply it would be foolish not to capitalise on it and make a profit on the way. Always good to have material and cash the locals would find useful.

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When breakfast did arrive about fifteen minutes later he was dressed in jeans, polo-shirt and socks, but still wearing his slippers as Korva, the kitchen steward and himself sat down at the table to enjoy the meal together, a tradition which saw an eager rotation of kitchen staff coming to sit with the human for every meal.

David didn’t mind at all. The presence of Korva ensured that no one tried anything daft, and once he had explained to Korva the idea of eating together without it being a date, she had seemed to relax, even joking and helping to keep the conversation going. David himself finding that enjoying a meal with the women (and two men) who kept the ship running was a fantastic way to not only present himself as more than a mere sex toy with feelings as well as learning more about the Empire’s language as well as its peoples' thoughts, cultures and beliefs.

As it was, given his good behaviour onboard and during his trip to the bridge upon the departure from earth, the captain had allowed Korva to take him on tours of the ship to see certain areas. These included the engine room and kitchen, where he had made a point to personally thank the chef, a grey-furred Rai'kiri with a decidedly motherly disposition, for her kindness on that first day, the meal helping to calm his nerves and emotions.

The woman had simply smiled, stating it was what anyone would do if they’d been properly fathered.

These little walkabouts had also acted as prime advertising for Korva and David’s side business, with Korva charging the other crew a small fortune for opportunities to get close or in some extreme cases, even get a kiss from the human, though the kissing idea only lasted a couple of days due to one or two crew getting a little too eager. As it was, David’s masculinity wasn’t fragile enough to be damaged by such happenings, and he happily exploited their urges to rake in a small fortune for himself and his erstwhile business partner.

That didn’t mean he was foolhardy with it though, being careful to ensure that the images couldn’t be copied or shared between devices and counting his lucky stars that the captain had cut off intranet access for the crew in order to hide the convoy’s location from would-be pirates.

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“Soooo…” he hummed thoughtfully as he tucked into what could only be described as pink coloured crepes, “Seems I’ve been invited to the officer’s mess for dinner, anything I should know?”

Korva coughed, choking on her crepes as the young male steward jolted slightly before grinning, “Thought they were taking their time” he chuckled, “Hope you’re holding onto your pants!”

Korva simply choked louder, struggling to get her breathing under control as she thumped her chest.

“You…*cough* just *cough cough* need to relax, do you *cough* have anything formal to wear?”

“Not really, just a shirt and black pants. Most of my stuff is packed in with the cargo.”

“Y-you mean that button-up shirt of yours?”

“Um yes, have you been going through my wardrobe?”

“What? No…. anyway! You cant go wearing just that! You may as well go in wearing a leaf and gold tassels!”

“Oh come on it's not that bad!” David glanced imploringly at the Shiv’alti male beside him, hoping for back up only to find the male nodding.

“Korva’s right” he explained. “shirt and pants won't cut it. You got any jackets?”

“Eeerrr yes, a small one, and a black sweater vest.”

“Do that, that’s not perfect but it will do.”

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Several hours later, wearing his ensemble and feeling suspiciously like a librarian as he was escorted to the door of the officer’s wardroom, he couldn’t help but think he’d made a bit of a mistake. The stares from the passing crew, along with at least one overhead mutter of “tease” causing a nervous sweat under his collar as Korva stopped in front of the guarded doorway, the sentry outside scanning David in, leaving Korva out in the hallway.

Stepping into the room itself David was immediately subjected to a deafening silence, the kind that only comes after an abrupt end to a conversation as at least a dozen pairs of eyes latched onto him.

Feeling like a leg of lamb in a tank of piranha he stepped forward, steeling himself as his eyes sought out Captain D’thalea O’laothic, the woman already stepping forward, a wicked glint in her eye as she politely sauntered towards him, her fist extending in greeting.

“Welcome David, it’s a pleasure to finally be able to meet you properly.” she smiled graciously as she pulled him further into the room, before introducing him to the other officers, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, her hand initially resting in place before slowly starting to trace swirling patterns over his upper chest as the introductions continued.

When he’d finally been taken around the room he smiled politely at the captain, her arm still lazily draped over his shoulder, the devious voice in his head already plotting how he was going to take this presumptuous woman down a peg or two.

“I’m dreadfully sorry” he gave a vacant, insipid smile as he channelled everything he knew about himbos into his performance. “Did I interrupt a conversation when I came in?”

“Bingo,” he thought wickedly as he watched the women glancing at each other with smug, pointed grins.

“Oh we were just talking about humans” the captain smiled ingratiatingly, as she glanced down at him. “It was such a shame we had so little time on earth we didn’t get nearly enough time to… explore properly.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that.” David maintained his performance while internally rolling his eyes. “Any questions I can answer? I'll do my best to fill in any blanks you may have missed.”

The way the woman’s eyes lit up let David know he’d hit the jackpot.

“Oh yes, I certainly have some questions. Though maybe after drinks?”

David nodded eagerly, accepting the glass he was offered by the frowning steward, ironically the same from breakfast that morning, clearly wondering what game he was playing at.

“Oh, this just gets better and better. If this little scheme doesn’t boost profits nothing will.” David thought to himself as he subtly winked at the male, causing him to blush slightly before David turned back to his host.

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The next morning David was observed by at least half a dozen of the crew not very subtly making his way back to his room from the captain’s quarters. The captain’s inspection was delayed by several hours that day, and the poor woman was walking with a very distinct limp as she did her rounds.

The resulting rumour storm pushed demands for photos and meeting opportunities through the roof, but now with the added financial boost of the officers' contribution to the “David’s Pocket Money Fund”.

The only drawback as far as David was concerned was that now, boredom was no longer an option, and damned if he didn’t find himself feeling sorry for Korva, the poor woman never getting a break or even a kiss.

Suffice it to say that the morning the convoy finally appeared in orbit above Shil, the guard outside David’s door was not Korva, and when she finally did appear, it was with a smile that almost blinded her colleagues, and a most certainly notable limp as she made her way down the hallway.

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The heavy vessel shuddered as it descended through the atmosphere, David’s fingers gripping onto the straps of his chair as he threatened to slide right out of the seat designed for a Shil female marine.

Despite never having had motion sickness before, his treacherous mind couldn’t help but supply helpful mental images of the Space Shuttle Challenger and other disasters, his spleen feeling like it was trying to escape back to earth via his mouth, nose and eyeballs.

Finally, the ship seemed to straighten out, the rattling of the hull replaced with the now-familiar hum of the engines as it descended rapidly towards what David had been told was a military atmospheric airbase just outside the Imperial capital of Shil. Even the arrival of the human trophies had to be a spectacle.

Within minutes of landing David had been unstrapped was being escorted rapidly (a thousand pox curses on their long legs) towards the cargo hold, a cargo manifest shoved into his hands as he was swept into the hold, the main doors already open to reveal the huge flat expanse of the base, a fleet of smaller, but still enormous to his eyes, cargo carriers lined up ready to transport his (he was NOT going to refer to anything belonging to the empress) precious cargo to their new (and hopefully temporary) home.

He struggled to keep up as cargo drones swept the crates past him almost faster than he could scan them, several crates set aside for random inspection by the Interior agents leaning against the wall, their eyes boring into him as he stifled his irritation.

Glancing at the nearest group and catching two of the four ogling his ass he finally snapped.

“Oi! You there!” he bellowed, his voice booming above the bustle and noise. “If you’re not purely decorative, grab a scanner and earn your keep!” The acoustics of the huge cargo space amplified his voice to the point that even he was impressed, the startled fumbling of the agents in question, at least one of them presenting as minor nobility, delighted him.

Under D’thalea’s watchful gaze the interior agents made no move against him, instead, straightening up and positioning themselves around the random crates, waiting until David had scanned the Edwin Fox and watched as it was carefully lifted out of the hold to join the Te Kaha on the tarmac.

Turning his gaze back to the handful of crates he promptly strode over, waiting for D’thalea to use her Captain pass key to open the magnetic locks sealing it closed.

As he opened it he held the manifest in the other hand. “Two Charlton Auto-rifles, one Charlton AA gun, one Charlton self-loading rifle and four Mitchel submachine guns” he listed, carefully lifting each item up for inspection by the interior agents before placing them back carefully in their padding.

The next crate, containing some of the more obscure cups and awards for military competitions was eagerly inspected, the silver and gold clearly appealing to the agents before the last crate was opened, revealing an assortment of letters including a small parcel wrapped in brown paper and string.

“Open the package.” instructed the minor noble, her tone icy as she gripped David’s wrist, preventing him from placing the parcel back in the crate.

“What? Certainly not!” David glared at her, “This parcel contains the last personal effects of a soldier killed 80 years ago!”

“I. Said. Open. It!” the woman growled, tightening her grip painfully as David grunted in discomfort.

“Agent!” Captain D’thalea snapped, “Remember your role!”

“I am of House Th’kana! I don’t take orders from barge captains!” the agent snapped, not turning around to even look at the captain as she attempted to wrest the small package out of David’s own grasp.

“Oh good, because the daughter of House O’laothic doesn’t tolerate “barge captains” on her ship when under express orders of the Empress!”

The agents face managed to go through at least five different emotions ranging from disbelief to rage before settling on utter horror as she released David as if his skin was on fire, causing him to stumble before rapidly placing the parcel back in the crate and slamming the lid shut.

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The first thought that crossed David’s mind as the full size of the museum dedicated to the military past of Humanity, was one riddled with expletives at the sheer size of it. The second set of thoughts could be summed up much more easily “Fuck me who let the Shil design it?”

The magnificent sprawling building lay in all its disturbing splendour along one of the widest stretches of road, clearly a tourist hot spot, towards the centre of the enormous purple city. The main imperial place squatting beside it at the end of the same road, looming over the museum like a predator over its prey. What concerned David however wasn’t the sheer size (though he swore many years later that his legs ached at the mere sight of it), it was the fact the building had been modelled on human museums. This meant that the building was totally at odds with the architecture around it, sticking out painfully and clearly a hodgepodge of various human designs. The main entrance and façade bearing a strong resemblance to the British Museum, but with numerous towers reminiscent of Indo-Islamic temples. The main entrance itself was the only way in from the main road, sprouting as it were from the steep, kremlin-like walls which marked the border of the property on which the building sat.

Smack bang in the middle of the building, rather than a dome, a large open air space, which bore an uncanny resemblance to an open-air arena was visible as the shuttle began to descend towards the rear of the building where a shuttle pad for VIP visitors was positioned.

It was only after the shuttle landed, and David had been escorted off and inside the building itself that he finally saw another human being, in fact, several human beings.

The small crowd of people were milling awkwardly in what was clearly meant to be a luxurious entranceway, clustering in a clump that bore a distinct resemblance to penguins huddling against an Antarctic blizzard. Their voices were low, mumbling and muttering amongst themselves as their eyes all turned to him, fixing on him with expressions of relief as he made his way quickly over, tucking himself into the huddle.

“New Zealand” he muttered, by way of introducing himself, a series of understanding nods and a chorus of “Ahhs” echoing around the group before the doors opened again, another human being led in and the whole process repeating again as the young brown-haired woman, who it turned out was from Poland, was also absorbed into the group.

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When every last delegate had been admitted, and introductions made as best they could, a loud bellow from one of the guards caused everyone to jump, turning to see a tall, regal-looking woman who was obviously high nobility (the whole “walking gold mine” look was a bit of a give away) was standing at a small podium, her lips drawn back in a haughty and decidedly unpleasant smile.

“Welcome humans, to Shil!” she crooned, her caustic voice amplified to reach every nook and cranny in the room, meaning it was just that little bit too loud for her human audience. “I Lady D’eritha Lak’sana, have been commanded by the Empress herself to ensure this collection of humanity's history is displayed to the Empire and acts as a way for the people of the Empire to see what… other things you can contribute.”

The only response was a mistimed cough from the back of the crowd and an uncomfortable rustling as everyone shifted warily.

“Remember!” she boomed, “You serve the Empress! It is your responsibility to ensure your species is presented in an honest light! Our curatorial teams are already unpacking and ensuring the artefacts are placed and labelled, your mission is to present those artefacts to those who enter this building!”

Her narrowed gaze swept the crowd, no doubt attempting to intimidate anyone getting any clever ideas of speaking out or who might be thinking of resisting in some way.

“You have all been assessed based on pre-existing qualifications and interests and have been assigned respective areas to teach about. You have all been sent your teams and their leaders. Once you have found your group you will be introduced to your supervisors and will be debriefed.

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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”

“Vat do you mean?”

“Dis ist not vat ve are trained to do!”

The Shil'vati administrator glared at the knot of 20 or so humans, all grouped according to their specialised interest in weapons and military technology.

“There will be at least one performance a day, multiple ones if it is a holiday or commemorative event.”

David could not believe his ears. The stadium in the centre of the museum complex wasn’t for talks or interactive education. It was for full-on demonstration battles. To add insult to injury, it wasn’t just for historical battles from Earth either. Every year on the anniversary of the invasion (ahem, "liberation") of Earth they were to reenact the invasion to be broadcast throughout the galaxy.

“Hold on!” he exclaimed. “Just-just wait a moment. We’ve only just got here and there's not an awful lot of us, even if we use every human in this building. How do you expect us to perform like this?”

The black and gold eyes of the supervisor narrowed in his direction.

“At last an intelligent question” the woman growled, clearly frustrated.

“All human staff are to be trained in the various drills and tactics of the multiple historical units you will be representing. On the anniversary of your admittance to the empire, you will be wearing the uniform and equipment of your respective nations.”

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David simply shook his head in bewilderment as the woman continued. “You will all be issued with appropriate uniforms and equipment as well as a schedule of the week’s performances at the start of the week. “In the meantime, you are all confined to your team quarters.

The humans all glanced at each other, a distinct air of nervousness pervading the room as the supervisor spun on her heel and swept out of the room leaving a stunned silence in her wake.

“Fick” came a heavily accented murmur from behind him, causing David to hum in agreement as the group finally started to move, breaking apart to explore their quarters.

Although David couldn’t say with any accuracy, his sense of direction told him that their staff quarters were positioned further along the “rear” outer wall of the museum complex, to the right of the VIP entrance they had all arrived at only an hour previously.

Due to the sheer size of the complex, David had a strong suspicion that the museum itself would be internally broken into sections, with rapid transport to each section from the entrance owing to the Shil’vati low levels of endurance.

His team’s complex wasn't so bad in of itself. The main door opening onto a large meeting/briefing room with 3D and wall projectors as well as a whiteboard. The room was also clearly sized with Shil’vati in mind, its tall ceiling and podium at the front of the room making it obvious who was expected to be lecturing whom.

As the mix of humans explored they found a small kitchenette. No stovetops but there was an oven-like contraption along with several fridge/freezer units.

Next to the kitchenette was an impressively sized entertainment room. A large screen at one end of the room along with several gaming stations, a pool table and, much to his surprise, an enormous flat table about ten foot by eight.

Stepping past the table he made a beeline for the collection of downloaded human entertainment videos and was disappointed to see that every single one of them was war-related. Just as he flicked another page however he stifled a snigger. Tucked between the movie “300” and “Dunkirk” sat one of his favourite shows, and one he was sure should completely flummox any Shil’vati watching. The old BBC series “Allo Allo!”. “Oh, Rene” he muttered, doing his best impression of Yvette the waitress before putting the list down with a positively evil grin.

Moving down the corridor branching off the entertainment room he found the staff quarters themselves, each door on the left-hand side of the hallway, each clearly labelled with each person’s name, country of origin and a code which he had seen Shil scan with those tablets of theirs. In this particular case, he assumed it acted as a way for personal files to be accessed. The door on the right led to a group gym and changing room space, notably with no separation between the male and female sections.

Finding his door and opening it he found himself in a comfortably appointed room not too dissimilar to a large luxury hotel room.

“At least we have windows here.” he thought to himself as he padded across to open the window in question, overlooking the city from its position on the same hill as the palace.

Taking a breath of fresh air he thought it best to head back to the entertainment room and get to know his colleagues as quickly as possible.

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Over the next three days, the tight group of humans did their best to get to know each other, though David’s appalling ability to remember names didn’t help him at all. In short the group of 20 “Weapons and Technology” guides consisted of individuals from Japan, South Korea, New Zealand, Denmark, Wales, Israel, Libya, Sri Lanka, Chad, Finland, Italy, Jamacia, Cuba, Chile, the Falkland Islands, Malta, Vietnam, Taiwan, Russia and Germany.

It was interesting to David that the German representative was a former Bundeswehr soldier, as well as a museum volunteer. What was even more interesting was that Kurt (thank god everyone decided to wear name tags) was a specialist on chemical weaponry, and had been part of the team involved in disabling WW1 and WW2 chemical weapons in Saxony before the invasion.

Despite some initial communication difficulties, everyone had settled on the idea of using English as the group language, though nearly all of them spoke Shil’vati, as a way of at least separating themselves from their would-be masters.

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As the day of the grand opening of the museum drew closer, they were finally also allowed out of their quarters to explore the vast museum in all its glory. The first thing that drew exclamations of frustration and fury from their group was the simple method of how complicated details of human history were described on the various screens and panels throughout the building, from ancient China, all the way through to the Middle-East situation, the history of humankind was laid out in an emotionless, neutral tone depicting humanities empires, kingdoms, republics and religions as little more than childish mudslinging in the dust. David himself was, despite hating revisionist history with a passion, disturbed by the grudging respect shown for the Ottoman, Portuguese, Spanish and Dutch Empires and their punitive actions against all comers. The British Empire was used as an example, not of “benevolent neglect”, or of the power of trade and greed. Instead, it was used as an example of how democracy undermined greatness, of the foolishness of the British monarchy to allow parliament any power beyond mere representation. The British Empire was also shown in its mercantile sense, with what was clearly a strong propaganda piece about the evils of corporate empires disguised as an exhibit about the role of the East India Company. He noticed the Japanese Empire was also praised for its efforts against the “unrestrained capitalism” of America in the pacific.

Suffice to say that by the end of the day, the entire group, for one reason or another were steaming with fury, a sea of tight-lipped faces and glaring eyes as Shil’vati curators placed the final artefacts in place, ranging in size from the smallest of drones used by the armies of the west, all the way through to the HMS Victory and even a cross-section of the HMS Prince of Wales aircraft carrier. Not a mock-up either, the carrier had been sunk within several hours of the invasion as it attempted to sail out of port. The Shil’vati had simply raised it, cut the vessel in half and turned it into an exhibit which visitors could walk through the centre of. The same had been done with the ships, tanks and aircraft of numerous nations. Even shipwrecks of vessels lost in numerous naval battles throughout history had been raised and preserved despite their state as war graves.

Despite all of this, the sprawling building’s biggest insult to its human guides lay at the heart of the building, around the main entrance to the central amphitheatre. The exhibit for the “liberation” of Earth itself, with holographic displays and even automated models demonstrating a merciful and short invasion, wounded human soldiers being cared for by Shil’vati medics, civilians being clothed and fed by their occupiers. A wall commemorating the names of all members of the Empire’s military who were lost in the invasion. (David struggled to hide his approval of the enormous number of names on that wall, and judging by the coughs and rumblings behind him, he wasn’t the only one struggling).

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Finally, the grand day arrived. The team dressing in the communal (despite almost a quarter of the group being female) changing room in their newly arrived (and a little too well fitted) uniforms.

The WaT team (they were working on a cooler sounding name) wore a uniform designed to mark them as specialists in their particular field as opposed to the groups specialising in politics and intelligence, logistics and tactics, personal stories and records, and (last but not least) justice and policing.

All staff regardless of role had some uniform elements the same. All human staff wearing knee-high polished black leather jackboots with a raised two-inch heel (clearly whoever designed the boots had read the high heel was designed for men). A simple dark purple pair of tight (almost hussar level tight) jodhpurs with a coloured stripe up the outer leg denoting speciality (in the case of the WaT team this was blue) with gold braid over the upper thighs and across the ass.

Continuing up, a snug, high-collared, short cut, wrap-around blouse, also in deep purple with the same colour coding fabric running as piping along the collar and down the seams as well as acting as the background for the gold Imperial Crest on the right shoulder, and the Museum crest on the left shoulder. Gold braid was again applied in lavish amounts from the cuffs all the way to the elbow on the sleeves and running along the lines of the shoulders and shoulder blades along the back of the blouse.

The blouse itself sat over a plain white, collared shirt, the collar designed to be folded up rather than down, highlighting the cut and the colour of the blouse and pants.

The entire ensemble was topped off with the most controversial item of all. A black leather choker which wrapped itself around the throat, the catch at the front hidden by a large blue stone set in a gold clasp, the choker itself designed to hide beneath the high collar of the blouse while holding up the collar of the white shirt beneath.

In short, as far as David was concerned, He felt more like eye candy than a “respected” guide and educator.

Unable to do anything about it, however, he fell in with his group as they were formed up by their escort and led to the main entrance hall of the museum. A huge vaulted cavity of a room which would put most cathedrals to shame, with stained glass windows taken from military churches throughout the world causing a myriad of colours throughout.

There, along with the other teams of humans as well as an enormous about of Shil’vati, Raikiri and other species on the staff, they were formed into a parade ground inspection formation and instructed (as if they hadn’t been forced to practice this for the last week) on the imperial salute and when to make it.

Standing at ease, his hands behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart David couldn’t help but nervously eye up the camera drones hovering silently throughout the room, hoping against all hope that this wasn’t being broadcast back to Earth.

Suddenly, outside the building the roar of cheering voices from a crowd of several hundred thousand startled the humans, their backs straightening and their eyes snapping forward as the great doors opened, natural sunlight beaming in as the Empress herself, flanked by her guards, favourite consort and the same aristocratic harpy, Lady D’eritha, who had spoken to them on their arrival, swept into the room. The Empress herself was, much to his surprise, not dressed in nearly as gaudy a fashion as he had anticipated. This was clearly a woman who had nothing to prove and was fully at ease with herself, her jewellery was minimal and tasteful, a gold and bejewelled tiara on her head above a martial yet practical cut dress which flattered her tall and broad form. This was obviously a woman who was still active, despite her age and power.

Due to his being young and above all, male, David had been positioned in the front rank of his cadre, meaning that while he had an excellent view of the official opening, he was also among the first in line to be spotted and inspected by the Empress and her cronies. The surprisingly attractive, if still slightly above his preferred age bracket, woman made her way across the room to inspect “Her” (it turned out that the museum was on palace grounds and the empress had allowed it to be leased to the general public on condition the human staff belonged to the palace as well as the museum) staff.

Not wanting to cause an incident, as well as flatly refusing to acknowledge subservience to any royalty beyond the one he’d sworn an oath to on earth, David kept his eyes fixed firmly on the wall across the room as the Empress worked her way down the line towards him. Pausing in front of each individual in the front ranks she finally stopped in front of him. Not looking at her, David could still feel her eyes sliding up and down his body, the woman turning to mutter something too quiet for even him to hear to the officer standing beside her before moving on to the person next to him.

An hour later when the ceremony officially ended and the public swept into the building David was blown away by the level of interest shown by the Shil families before him, enormous family groups with children waving imperial flags along with Shil’vati marines showing their parents and siblings what they had fought against during the invasion.

The building was packed right up until closing time with aliens of all ages and persuasion, all seemingly fascinated with the latest addition to the empire, though more with some areas than others. Roman gladiators for example were exceedingly popular, though most parents refused to take their children into that particular section and the majority who came out the other side were blushing excessively and asking where the nearest public restrooms might be.

David and his team were quietly and efficiently rounded up in order to get changed for the battle at midday, the battle in question being Waterloo, with the WaT team being cast as the French Old Guard.

Due to the overdramatizing of the battle for the public, as well as the distinct difference between the number of humans available and the numbers of troops at the actual battle, the display started at the moment the old guard was committed, practically at the end of the battle itself, one “regiment” of French foot flanking the WaT team and another team split between the cannons on both sides as the one English and one Scottish “regiments” (never mind where the Prussin, Dutch or Belgian regiments who had been at the actual battle were) charging down the hill after guard broke, retreating down the "hill" as the crowd roared appreciatively, a Scots bayonet getting David in the back as he obediently slumped to the ground, the battle continuing on around him as the Shil’vati narrator kept the audience abreast of what the humans were up to.

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As the sun finally began to set and the museum was emptied of public, the humans staggered back to their quarters, thoroughly exhausted as several slumped dramatically over the floor and couches.

“I swear!..” exclaimed Judith (the representative from Israel) “if I have one more fucking egg… customer, ask how come I'm so short, I'm going to remove their knee caps”

“Be grateful it's only comments about your height!” huffed Hideki (Japan) “Bet you didn’t spend your day being groped and having horny teenagers trying to trace your gold braid in the middle of a tour!”

Judith was clearly about to say more when the door buzzer sounded, alerting everyone that a non-human staff member was about to enter.

Seconds later a Raikeri strode into the room, her uniform that of palace staff rather than the museum.

Checking her tablet the woman cast her eyes over the group. “David! Kurt! You are to both come with me!”