Sitting in the back of the booth, her legs pulled close together in a valiant effort to create as much available space for her dear [s]children[/s] companions as possible, was Tik-Tik. The giant spider's arachnid face was unreadable to any of her more humanoid companions, and she wagered that even the hive of bees didn't have the necessary experience to read her alien expressions. Not to worry, though -- she was perfectly content. 

[color=a2d39c]"Eat up, eat up!"[/color] she said, or hissed, or... how does one describe the sound? It sounded like a little breathless and a little layered, like someone slowly and gently dragging the bow of a violin across a stand of silk. [color=a2d39c]"Nobody is allowed to leave the table before you finish your meals."[/color] One of her many eyes glanced at the bees with the captain hats and she quickly added: [color=a2d39c]"Except for the Captain, of course. They can do as they please."[/color] It was important not to forget her place.

The nanobot robot, named Toony, asked the crew to say something about themselves. [color=a2d39c]"Nice to meet you, my dear. My name is --"[/color] the sounds that followed were completely incomprehensible, more reminiscent of the death rattles of a dying Protoceratops than anything else -- [color=a2d39c]"But you can call me Tik-Tik. All my friends do."[/color] The spider attempted a polite curtsy, dipping her head and thorax, with the limited space she had. 

[color=a2d39c]"And I am doing [i]great[/i], Vonny! Did you get enough sleep?"[/color] Tik-Tik asked, turning to the Space Dwarven quartermaster, another unreadable expression on her many-eyed face; experts in arachnid communication would describe it as 'stern, but kind'.