Fifteen monks sat in uncomfortable seats in the middle of a small cargo bay. The bay also held cargo for sale and trade, huge boxes of items for the monastery and a pen of livestock. These unlikely companions had been together for 15 hours, an ordeal that was going to end at any minute.
"Either we reach Serenity in one more minute or I'm going to throw those stinking animals out the cargo door," Kalmar Torek mumbled.
"That would not be the most serene thing to do," ventured the monk at his right.
"But I would be able to breathe better," Kalmar said.
The older monk smiled. He had been sent along as Kalmar's assistant by the temple. Kalmar was a shining light in the order, but somewhat unconventional. The elders felt he needed an occasional nudge and Tar was the nudger.
Just then there was a strange whirring sound and a door slid open. The first mate of the vessel stood and looked at the passengers. Fifteen pairs of purple eyes looked up at her.
"We'll be ready to disembark in 20 minutes," she said. "Please have your documents ready and plan for a wait. We never get into Serenity with ease. They just don't have our military precision."
"Nor does this ship," Kalmar grumbled again. "The Order must have been crazy to book us on this tub."
"I believe," Tar answered, "this was the only ship that would take the animals."
Yes, the animals did belong to the monks. They were planning on producing cheese and the ugly, smelly Zor were great for cheese. That is, if you could milk them without getting your teeth kicked out.
Kalmar sighed and became less the pouty child and more the abbot that he was. "Tell me again about what we will find," he said.
Tar smiled and opened his notebook, his technically advanced notebook that is. "The team sent ahead has seen to the building of the monastery itself and has arranged for a storehouse of supplies to await us. We should not starve until we can get a crop and get established. All details have been taken care of so we have only to move in."
Kalmar looked at him. "Right," he said. "Nothing has gone smoothly since we began this journey. I do, however, believe we have a building. They sent us a photo after all."
Kalmar lapsed into silence, glancing around the cargo bay. The fifteen monks were some of the Order's best. All male and all wearing their dark green robes, the monks possessed the normal Vesputian purple eyes. All wore their hair a little differently. Some were bald, some like Kalmar had very short hair and others preferred the unique round bald spot of Earth's Friar Tuck.
The robes hid a number of things. In the first place, all of the monks except Tar were under 35. They had been chosen as those most likely to survive hostile conditions. Vesputians viewed anything as hostile that wasn't Vesputia, the paradise of the universe. All of the monks, even Tar, were trained warriors. The robes hid excellent physiques. The robes also hid the top of the line Vesputian technology-created armor and weaponry. Peaceful the monks were -- stupid they were not.
"I wonder," Kalmar said, "if we'll find Serenity a place where our religion can flourish."
"I doubt if we will," Tar replied. "It is no doubt filled with heathens."
"True," Kalmar replied. "It should be interesting to deal with them."
The ship lurched slightly and the monks tensed. Soon they would be in their monastery. Those smelly creatures could be out in their pasture, miles away with any luck, and all would be right with the world.
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