Our Hero Uses Diplomacy

Captain Grant Manley fidgeted uncomfortably.  He much preferred the stark utilitarian halls of the USS Victory to this plush, sybaritic Plutonian palace, and he'd rather feel the tug of his skintight pressure suit than the chafe of these loose class-A dress clothes.  He still had his Q-Ray blaster, though, and no funny-talking Plutonian Baron was going to get him to hand it over.
  "Remind me why we're here, would you?" Manley whispered to his trusty cabin boy, Teddy Courage, as he eyed the gray-hued, three-armed Plutonian diplomat mere steps away.
   "The Earth Council sent us to ensure the delivery of heavy hydrogen," Teddy replied as he tugged on the Captain's tunic and brushed his lapels.  "So be nice."
   "But they're funny-looking," Manley grumbled.  "And it stinks here.  No place with funny-looking aliens and stinky scenery is worth the Earth Council's attention."
   "All our space cruisers run on heavy hydrogen."  Estelle Sparks entered, her lithe buxom form concealed by layers of sheer fabrics that draped and hung in alluring folds.  Only the two Q-Ray blasters on her hips let an onlooker know she meant business.  Earth business.
   "What in the name of Einstein are you wearing?" Manley erupted, earning him a stern scowl from one of the Plutonian diplomats.
   "It's the traditional Plutonian dress for their females," Estelle purred.  "It's diplomatic that I wear it."
   "I think it's disgraceful," Manley spat, "women should wear their standard-issue pressure suits, with the top unzipped a few inches for comfort.  Not this... this..."
   "Abomination," Teddy Courage offered.  "It leaves everything to the imagination."
  "Shhh..." Estelle admonished as the Plutonians took notice, "... we need them and their heavy hydrogen."
   "Aren't they a repressive theocracy?" Teddy whispered, kneading his captain's iron-hard shoulders.  "And isn't the Earth Council opposed to repressive theocracies?  And don't we mine our own heavy hydrogen?"
   "Yes, yes, and yes," Estelle replied, "but Pluto has the solar system's largest reserves of heavy hydrogen, more than we ever could find on our own.  And if we want them to continue selling it to us, we have to make nice."
   Grant Manley put a hand to his chin and rubbed slowly, his thinking pose, while the other rested on his Q-Ray blaster.
    "They're wrapping up their mumbo-jumbo," Teddy said, stroking his Captain's face as he pointed across the grand palace ballroom where the Plutonians had just finished sacrificing a gray, three-limbed animal to their ice god.  "Let me check your inseam to make sure nothing's riding up."
   "I have a better idea," Manley said, batting Teddy's hand away, "why don't we refuse to buy heavy hydrogen from the Plutonians until they stop their nonsense?  You know, quit it with the crazy religion and let their women read and vote?"
   Teddy Courage and Estelle exchanged a panicked look.
   "We don't want to rock the boat," Estelle said.
   "And besides, someone else will just buy their heavy hydrogen," Teddy answered, "and we'll have none for ourselves."
   "We could find another source of space cruiser fuel," Manley suggested, still in his thinking pose.  "I mean, the Earth Council has a bunch of smarty-pants eggheads, right?  They can figure it out.  Heavy hydrogen can't be the only way to make the USS Victory go."
  "Well, that could work," Estelle replied, "except that the Earth Council is full of representatives who are in the pockets of the heavy hydrogen lobby.  And the aristocracy of the Earth Council has a long history with the Barons of Pluto.  They're friends.  Good friends."
   "Ah, I understand," Manley said, stroking his chin, "graft, bribery, and corruption, eh?"
  "You always see things so crystal clear," Teddy gushed,  hugging tight to his Captain's rippling chest.
   "Nothing else to do, then," Manley barked as he drew his Q-Ray blaster. It felt good in his hand.  Right.  Earth Council right.  "We'll kill 'em all and let God sort it out.  The proper God, the Earth God.  Whoever wins gets all the heavy hydrogen."