The crew of the Orville gathered in the conference room, sitting around the large table with curious expressions. Captain Ed Mercer had called the meeting, but no one was sure what it was about. Ed stood at the head of the table, looking a bit more serious than usual, immediately alerting everyone.

"Okay," Ed began, his tone stern, which only served to pique their interest further. "Now, I know this is going to sound utterly insane to most of you, and your first instinct might be to laugh, but I need everyone to take this seriously. So, no jokes, no snide remarks, nothing."

Gordon exchanged a glance with John, sensing the potential for humor but stifling it for the moment. Ed nodded to Kelly, signaling her to continue.

Kelly leaned forward, her voice even. "We're diverting course to Moclus to... watch Bortus pee."

Gordon blinked, clearly confused. "You want to, uh, elaborate on that?"

Before Kelly could respond, the doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and Bortus entered the room, his expression as impassive as ever. "I apologize for my tardiness, Captain."

"No, Bortus," Ed replied, gesturing for him to join them. "Actually, you're just in time. I think it's best if you explain the ceremony to everyone."

Bortus gave a single, respectful nod. "Yes, sir." He stood tall, his voice steady as he addressed the crew. "Once a year, every Moclan must prepare for his Ja'loja, the Great Release. It is a ceremony of great importance in Moclan culture. We travel to our N'kafas, a place chosen during childhood, where we are joined by family and friends. There, a Moclan urinates, symbolizing a cleansing of the spirit and the beginning of a new year in his life. As you are my closest friends, I would like you to be present."

The crew sat in stunned silence for a moment, processing the information. Finally, Gordon, unable to help himself, asked, "What if it's, like, a windy day?"

Bortus, unamused by the question, continued. "The ceremony is followed by a celebration, for which the captain has granted the use of the Orville's mess hall. You are all invited to attend, and it is customary to bring a mate."

Ed clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Okay, any questions?"

Gordon raised his hand slightly, still looking confused. "Yeah, like a million, but I'm not gonna ask."

Satisfied that no further questions would be posed, Ed continued. "Union Central has granted clearance for the course change since it aligns with outpost 58, where, as you all know, we're scheduled to take on board our new dark matter cartographer. And Bortus, if you need any time off to make preparations, feel free to... relieve yourself." Ed's lips twitched, unable to resist the pun.

John snorted, trying to hold back laughter. "No, no, it's fine, man. He's just taking the piss out of you."

"Okay, that's it. Dismissed."

As they shuffled out of the room, Brooke fell into step with Alara, her expression thoughtful. "Hey," she began, glancing over at the Xelayan, "I think I'm going to do some research on the Ja'loja this afternoon. I'd like to be prepared for the celebration. Do you want me to share the results with you?"

Alara gave her a sidelong smile, her eyebrows lifting in amusement. "Researching a Moclan urination ceremony? You're really going above and beyond." She paused for a moment, considering. "But yeah, actually, that might be a good idea. I feel like the more we know, the less awkward it'll be when it happens."

Brooke laughed softly, nodding. "Exactly my thought. I'd rather know the customs beforehand than get caught off guard." She hesitated, then added with a more reflective tone, "Plus, I guess I want to show Bortus that I respect his traditions. It seems important to him."

Alara gave a small nod, appreciating Brooke's sentiment. "You're right. He invited us because we're his friends. Doing a little research on it is probably the least we can do."

"I'm not asking for a complete security manifest," Gordon began with a sigh, trying to keep his tone light. "I'm just... curious what you know about her. May I join you?"

Alara glanced up, surprised but amused. "Sure. Have a seat."

Gordon slid into the chair across from her. "Has she said anything that had the word 'boyfriend' in it?"

"I'm not going to betray Brooke's trust like that," she said gently, keeping her tone diplomatic. "If she wants you to know something, she'll tell you."

Gordon nodded, slightly deflated but not deterred. "I thought maybe I'd see if she wanted to go to Bortus's Ja'loja party with me."

Alara gave him a straightforward look. "Well, then ask her."

"How do you think I should do that?" Gordon asked, his frustration leaking into his voice.

Alara snorted softly, shaking her head. "Please, I am the last person you should be asking for dating advice. You know what kind of luck I've had on this ship."

Gordon sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You're not wrong there."

Alara rolled her eyes with a smile. "Maybe you should ask John? This is more his department."

In the engineering room, the soft hum of machinery filled the air, punctuated by the occasional beeping of consoles and the low murmur of crew members going about their work. Gordon leaned casually against a console, his usual grin present on his face, while John tinkered with a panel on the opposite wall. Yaphit stood nearby, his gelatinous form hovering around Dann, a lanky, somewhat awkward-looking creature with a tall and gangly frame who was adjusting a series of wires under one of the consoles. His pale, bluish skin had a smooth, almost translucent quality, and his elongated limbs gave him a slightly exaggerated, almost startling appearance. His face was long and narrow, with large, bulbous eyes that were a vibrant shade of green, making his expressions wide-eyed and a bit quirky.

"So," Gordon said, breaking the silence with a tone that carried his usual mischief, "You guys heard about the new hire? Lieutenant Redford?"

Yaphit wobbled slightly, his greenish mass shifting as he turned toward Gordon. "Nope, haven't met her. What's her deal? Another one of those buttoned-up, by-the-book types?"

Gordon chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh no, she's way more than that. Trust me, she's something else. She's brave, passionate, kind, intelligent - you name it."

John, still focused on his work, snorted quietly, smirking to himself. "Brave and kind, huh? Someone's got a crush."

Gordon shrugged, unbothered by John's teasing. "It's not like that. I mean, yeah, she's impressive, but not just because she's smart or anything. When we got stuck on that dinosaur planet last week? She didn't flinch. She just went into action. She's got guts, real courage."

Dann, still hunched under the console, poked his head out with a skeptical look. "So she's brave. That it?"

Gordon shook his head, his expression more serious now. "No, there's more to her than that. She's got a real passion for what she does. You can tell she cares, not just about the mission but about people. She's always checking in on everyone, making sure they're okay. It's not forced, either—she's just genuinely kind."

Yaphit rumbled in curiosity, his mass shifting closer to Gordon. "Okay, okay, so what makes her different from all the other recruits? We've seen plenty of nice folks come and go."

John, finally standing up and wiping his hands on his pants, chimed in. "She's from Avalon. That history colony on the edge of Union space. Kinda makes sense she's got that passion. Growing up on a planet that's all about preserving the past, learning from it. Must've shaped her in a big way."

Dann raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "Avalon? Isn't that the planet where people act like they're living in the 21st century or something?"

"Pretty much," John replied, stretching his back. "Her family's all into preserving history and tradition, but she joined the fleet instead. Must've taken guts to go against that."

Yaphit's gelatinous body wobbled again in thought. "Huh. A rebel historian, huh? Maybe I'll have to meet her after all."

Gordon's grin widened. "Exactly! She's not just following the rules or trying to prove something. She's thoughtful, and really smart too, but she's not about showing off. She's just... herself, and it's refreshing. And she's already best friends with Alara, that's got to count for something."

Dann rolled his eyes but couldn't help a small smirk. "Yeah, or maybe she's just good at making friends."

Gordon leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping slightly. "Nah, man, you gotta see her in action. She's quick on her feet. And the best part? She's got this way of making everyone around her feel like they matter. She's got heart, you know?"

John shook his head, amused. "Gordon's smitten, man. That's what this is."

"Not smitten," Gordon insisted, holding up his hands defensively. "I just think she's... special. It's not every day you meet someone who's brave, passionate, kind, and smart all rolled into one. She's just... cool."

Yaphit gurgled in amusement. "So when do we get to meet this brave, passionate, kind, and intelligent officer?"

"I'll introduce you guys," Gordon said, glancing at the time. "She's probably working right now, but next time we're all in the mess hall, I'll bring her over. Just don't be weird, alright?"

"We're gonna be weird?" Dann scoffed. "You're the one acting like a kid with a crush."

Gordon grinned, unfazed. "I'll play it cool. You guys just try not to embarrass me."

John snorted.

As the conversation wound down, Gordon turned back to his work, a satisfied smile on his face. John glanced at him and shook his head, muttering under his breath, "Gordon's in trouble."

A few hours later, Brooke sat across from Alara in the bustling mess hall. The space hummed with the low murmur of crew members deep in conversation, punctuated by the occasional clang of cutlery against trays. The soft glow of distant stars illuminated their table by the window, casting a serene light over the room.

"So," Brooke began, leaning forward slightly, her fingers resting on the rim of her glass, "When you're dealing with newly discovered societies, you must always remember to observe more than you interact. There's a lot we can misinterpret if we jump in too quickly."

Alara nodded thoughtfully, the faint light reflecting off her deep brown eyes. Her petite frame, though smaller than most aboard the Orville, carried an air of authority, an assurance earned from her experiences. "Makes sense," she said. "We always have to be careful about applying our own biases to the current situation."

Brooke smiled warmly. "Exactly. You don't realize how ingrained your assumptions are until you're in a completely foreign environment."

As Brooke finished her thought, she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Gordon strode toward them, his trademark grin wide as ever. Close behind him were John, Yaphit, and a tall, gangly, gray-skinned man with an oversized head.

"Looks like we've got company," Alara quipped, glancing at the approaching group with a smirk.

"Hey, ladies!" Gordon called out, his voice rising over the murmur of the mess hall. His eyes gleamed with his usual mischief. "Mind if we crash the party?"

"Again?" John teased, giving Gordon a sidelong glance. Gordon shot him a look, but it only made John's smile grow.

Brooke tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. "Not at all. Grab a seat."

Gordon dropped into his chair across from Brooke with all the grace of a falling boulder, while John, Yaphit, and Dann found a seat. The table instantly buzzed with the lively energy of the newcomers.

"I told the guys they had to meet you," Gordon said, practically bouncing in his seat. "Brooke, meet Yaphit and Dann. Two of the finest beings aboard the Orville - aside from the present company, of course."

Yaphit bobbed slightly. "Hey there! So, you're the history expert from Avalon? Bet that makes for some interesting conversations."

Brooke chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Guilty as charged."

Dann, his long limbs twitching awkwardly, leaned in. "So, what do you do when you're not unraveling the mysteries of the past? Any hobbies? Do you, like, collect ancient artifacts or something?"

Brooke grinned. "Not exactly. I like reading, swimming when I can, and I'm pretty decent at video games. I've spent a lot of time in the simulator."

Gordon perked up at that. "No way! What's your game?"

"Crysis of Command, mostly," Brooke replied, her smile widening. "Strategy games."

"Crysis? Oh, you're speaking my language." Gordon grinned, practically glowing. "We have to hit the simulator together sometime. I'll show you my trick moves. No big deal, just a little thing called dominating."

Brooke chuckled, enjoying the easy banter. "Careful, Malloy. I might just surprise you."

Yaphit, not one to miss an opportunity, oozed forward, his gelatinous form shifting slightly. "You know, if you ever want a partner for some... less digital exploration, I'm always available for some real adventures."

Brooke raised an amused brow. "I appreciate the offer, Yaphit, but I'm not sure I'm ready to venture into the lands of gelatinous forms."

Yaphit wobbled in what could only be interpreted as mock disappointment. "Ouch. Well, the offer stands."

John, watching the exchange with a grin, shook his head. "Yaphit, you're not gonna get anywhere like that."

"I have my charm," Yaphit replied, shifting back with a gurgle.

Alara leaned toward Brooke, nudging her gently under the table. "I think you've got a fan."

Brooke tried to suppress a grin, shooting Alara a knowing glance. "Seems like it."

The conversation continued, shifting into lighthearted stories of past missions, with laughter punctuating the tales. Every now and then, Gordon would sneak glances at Brooke, his admiration barely hidden beneath the surface. The stars outside glimmered through the windows, casting a soft light over the mess hall. The weight of the day's challenges faded as the crew shared drinks, jokes, and camaraderie. It was moments like this that reminded them all why they worked so well together.

Gordon approached John in the engineering room, a hint of nervousness evident in his demeanor. He glanced around, noting the crew members scattered throughout the room, aware of the many ears nearby.

"John, I need to talk to you," Gordon said, his voice low.

"Yeah, what's up?" John replied, looking curious.

Gordon shifted his weight, his eyes darting around the room again. "It's... sort of private."

John raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He led Gordon into the hallway, where they could speak more freely. "Okay, so what is it?"

"I need your guidance," Gordon confessed, his tone earnest. "I want to ask Brooke to be my date to Bortus's Ja'loja, but I have, like, zero game. I know you're kind of the girl guru on the ship, so I figured you could help me."

John chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You must've heard about the Keribex."

Gordon looked puzzled. "The what?"

John crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall as he recalled the story. "That's why everybody thinks I'm the guru. You ever met a Keribex?"

"No," Gordon admitted, his interest piqued.

John continued, a smirk playing on his lips. "It's an alien with two heads. I dated one for about two months last year. Here's the thing: I dated both heads at the same time, and neither of them found out about the other one."

"Wow," Gordon replied, surprised.

"Yeah, it'd still be going on," John said, rolling his eyes with a laugh, "But the left head always wanted to go hiking, and that's just sort of a deal-breaker for me."

Gordon chuckled, relieved. "Well, Brooke only has one head."

"Yeah, I can help you," John said, a confident grin spreading across his face.

Alara approached Bortus with a stack of reports in hand, her expression professional as she addressed the Commander. "Commander, I have the status report on the weapons upgrade," she stated, handing over the document.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Bortus replied, taking the report. He hesitated, his expression shifting slightly as he continued, "Uh, Lieutenant."

Alara looked up, curious. "Yeah?"

"I could not help but overhear you discuss your complaint in the mess hall," Bortus said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Complaint?" Alara echoed, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"I am led to understand that you are a failure in the practice of mating," Bortus stated bluntly.

Alara blinked, taken aback. "Well, I don't think I'd put it exactly like that, but yeah, things could be better."

Bortus continued, unfazed. "There is a young officer under my command who I have noticed also has no mate. If you wish, I will order him to mate with you."

Alara stared at him in disbelief. "Wow, that is the sweetest and most totally wrong thing anyone has ever said to me."

Bortus responded seriously, "I have no reason to doubt his seed is fertile."

"Okay," Alara said, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "Let's just slow down. Bortus, are you trying to fix me up on a date?"

"It is bad luck to attend a Ja'loja unaccompanied," Bortus explained, his tone remaining even.

Alara chuckled lightly. "Well, we wouldn't want to invite any bad luck, would we?"

"Then you will accept him?" Bortus asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

Alara thought for a moment, then said, "Well, don't order him to do anything, but if you want to let him know that I'm up for meeting him, sure. Only because I'm totally and completely fascinated by what's happening here right now. Who would've thought you were a yenta?"

Bortus tilted his head, genuinely confused. "A what?"

Alara grinned, shaking her head. "Ask Kelly."

Gordon stood in front of a large mirror, scrutinizing his reflection as John stood off to the side, nodding approvingly.

"Yeah. Yep," John said, his eyes darting over Gordon's outfit.

"Yeah. Yeah, I like that. That's good," Gordon replied, adjusting his collar.

"Yeah, you look like the guy who's on the list 'cause you know the DJ," John commented, crossing his arms.

"Does it work?" Gordon asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"It does, yeah," John confirmed.

Gordon frowned as he examined the zippers on his jacket. "Feels like too many zippers."

"Oh, no, no. Always go with one more zipper than you're comfortable with," John advised, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh," Gordon replied, considering the advice.

"You know what it says?" John continued, his enthusiasm building.

"What?" Gordon asked, curious.

"'Boom,'" John said, emphasizing the word.

"Really?" Gordon's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah. And that's where you want to start. You want to walk in with boom," John encouraged, gesturing animatedly.

"Boom," Gordon echoed, trying to get into the spirit.

"Yeah, yeah, not like that, but yeah," John clarified. "Just let the threads do the work. You're just a passenger, kicking back, along for the ride. Just a guy riding a jacket. You feel good?"

"Yeah, I do. I do. I'm still nervous, but yeah," Gordon admitted, his confidence wavering slightly.

"Why you nervous?" John asked, studying him. "You're a good-looking dude, you're funny. Just be yourself."

Gordon sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I've just... you know, I've only ever been with women who liked me. You know? Never the other way around. I mean, I'd ask girls out and get rejected, but if she made the first move, we'd end up dating."

"Ah, I get it," John nodded, understanding dawning.

"This is a perfect example: when I lived on Earth, I actually once had a stalker." Gordon's expression turned serious.

"No way," John replied, incredulous.

"Yeah, this girl from work. She used to hang around outside my house, and it got really weird. Then one night, she broke in, and I told her I was gonna have to call Union security. But we ended up talking. Turned out, we actually had a lot in common. We ended up seeing each other for five months, and then she dumped me."

"What?" John exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, said I was too clingy," Gordon said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You got dumped by your own stalker?" John laughed, the absurdity of the situation hitting him.

"That's nuts, huh? You think I should call her?" Gordon asked, half-joking.

"Yeah, I think we need, like, one more zipper," John replied with a playful grin.

John stood in the dimly lit engineering room, focused on the console in front of him. "Program Lamarr 3594. Okay, here we go. Begin simulation."

As the simulation commenced, the sounds of a loud, crowded club filled the air. The atmosphere pulsed with energy, and the visuals materialized into a vibrant scene. A beautiful, dark-haired woman sat at the bar, sipping her drink.

"Be yourself, go over there, and ask her out," John encouraged Gordon, who looked both excited and anxious.

With a deep breath, Gordon approached the bar. "Hi there. What's your name?"

"Danielle," the AI girl replied, her eyes sparkling with intrigue.

"Hi, Danielle, I'm Gordon," he said, trying to project confidence.

"Want to go back to my place?" she asked, her tone direct.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on. Hold," John interrupted, stepping in as the simulation halted. "Uh, what's the difficulty level?"

"Difficulty level: one," the computer responded.

"Ah, there's the problem," John said, shaking his head. "Reset difficulty level to eight."

"Resetting."

"Okay, go," John instructed, eager to see how Gordon would fare at a higher level.

Gordon began again, this time with a different approach. "Hey there."

The AI girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, not another one."

"My name's Gordon. Mind if I sit down?" he asked, attempting to remain charming.

"Listen, guy, I've been hit on by four different dudes from four different species tonight. One of them had his organs on the outside. My boyfriend just dumped me, and all I want to do is drink alone," she replied, her frustration evident.

"Well, then… why'd you come out?" Gordon asked, confused.

"I like the noise," she shot back.

"Okay, so… if you just want to talk—" he began.

"I don't," she interrupted.

"Okay, this is level eight. What's level nine?" Gordon pressed, his curiosity piqued.

John answered, "Level nine? She's still dating the guy."

"And level ten?" Gordon inquired.

"Level ten? She's married and has a gun," John explained, amused by the escalating challenge.

"So what do I do?" Gordon asked, feeling the pressure mount.

"Just be creative, be charming. Figure it out," John replied, leaning back to observe.

Gordon sighed dramatically. "I have six months left to live, and all I want to do is get to know you before I die."

"Are you serious?" the AI girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," he confirmed, looking sincere.

"You're dying?" she questioned, her tone softening.

"So totally dying, it's ridiculous. Nobody's dying more than me. This is probably my last night out, ever, 'cause I'm dying," Gordon added, his voice filled with exaggerated despair.

"Well, I guess I'd be a jerk if I didn't at least let you get me a drink," she said, a hint of sympathy creeping in.

"Boom! There it is. Hold simulation," John declared triumphantly.

Gordon turned to John, a mix of excitement and apprehension on his face. "I can't tell Brooke I'm dying."

John shrugged. "That's not the point. The point is, you're thinking on your feet, you're improvising. That's what it's all about."

The soft glow of the overhead lights in Alara's quarters cast a cozy, intimate atmosphere. The room was sparsely decorated but reflected her personality - strong, minimalist, with a touch of home in the form of a few framed pictures from Xelaya. A bottle of synth wine sat open on the small table in the center, along with two half-filled glasses. Brooke lounged comfortably on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, while Alara paced back and forth in front of the coffee table, clearly still fuming.

"You have no idea how awful that date was," Alara began, pouring herself another generous glass of wine. "I mean, it started off fine. Dann seemed.. charming enough until he pulled out that damn poem."

Brooke sipped her wine, raising an intrigued eyebrow. "A poem? That sounds… interesting."

"Interesting? Try painful!" Alara groaned, her free hand gesturing dramatically as she spoke. "He read it like it was some epic masterpiece. And the content - don't even get me started. It was all about, I don't even know… feeding the coals of joy or something. I thought I was going to choke."

Brooke chuckled and leaned forward, curious. "Okay, now I have to hear this poem. What did it say exactly?"

Alara stopped pacing for a moment, sighing heavily as she raised her glass to her lips. "It was something like, 'Love is the fishhook that hooks the fish.'" She rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated. "Is love supposed to be some kind of deep-sea fishing expedition now?"

"Wow, that's... unique," Brooke said, struggling to contain her laughter. "So, how did you handle it? What did you say?"

Alara threw herself into a nearby chair, leaning back dramatically. "I tried to be honest," she explained, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. "I told him it was maybe a little surface-y. And he acted like I'd just ripped his heart out! He asked for honesty and I gave it to him! Is that so bad?"

Brooke raised her glass, eyes twinkling with amusement. "What did he do?"

Alara's face twisted into a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "Oh, he got all hurt and defensive. Told me I'd 'taken a dump on his spirit'. Those were his exact words." She threw her hands up in frustration. "I was just trying to answer his question! Clearly, he wasn't ready for constructive feedback."

Brooke set her wine glass down, leaning forward eagerly. "So, what happened next?"

"I left," Alara said, shaking her head with a sheepish smile. "Seriously, who could stay after that?"

Brooke laughed, unable to hold it in any longer. "Oh my god. So, have you heard anything from him yet?"

Alara reached over to the small table beside her bed and picked up her comscanner, showing Brooke the message. "Yeah, he sent me this right after: 'I miss you already.' Can you believe it? I barely made it out of there alive, and he's acting like we shared some deep emotional connection."

Brooke stifled a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh boy. Sounds like he's still living in the fishhook metaphor."

"Right?" Alara took a big gulp of her wine, leaning back into her chair. "I just… I don't get it. How can someone be that out of touch with reality?"

Brooke shook her head, her laughter softening into a sympathetic smile. "Maybe he's just inexperienced, or maybe he's really into this whole 'poet-soul' persona. Either way, at least now you have a great story to tell."

Alara groaned again, though her frustration was starting to melt into amusement. "Yeah, well, it's a story I could've done without."

Brooke laughed, leaning back into the couch. "I'm just picturing you, sitting there, trying to keep a straight face while this guy pours his heart out about fishhooks. It's priceless."

Alara laughed, "I swear, I almost choked on my drink. And you know what the worst part is? He recited it with such confidence! Like it was the most profound thing anyone had ever heard."

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "And you had to keep a straight face the whole time?"

"Yep. It was like a test of my endurance," Alara said, shaking her head. "I think I deserve some kind of medal for surviving that date."

Brooke snorted, then lifted her glass again. "To surviving the worst date in the galaxy."

Alara clinked her glass with Brooke's, both of them laughing as the tension in the room dissipated completely.

Brooke leaned forward, setting down her wine glasses to pick up her tablet. "Now, for the second order of business. I have done a deep dive into the history of the Moclan celebration Ja'loja."

Alara grins. "Okay, lay it on me. I'm super curious."

Brooke begins to quote an article she found about the celebration: "Ja'loja is a significant Moclan ceremony that marks a rite of passage, specifically the biological event when a Moclan needs to urinate for the first time in a year. It is treated with great cultural reverence, similar to a wedding or a major life event, and is usually celebrated with family and friends. The occasion is more than just a physical act; it symbolizes purification, renewal, and the passage of time. In Moclan society, Ja'loja is seen as a deeply personal and communal experience, often involving emotional reflection and a gathering of loved ones."

Alara listens intently, sipping from her glass.

"The Ja'loja has deep historical and cultural roots tied to the unique biology of the Moclan species. Given that Moclans only need to urinate once per year, Ja'loja evolved as a ritual to honor the cyclical nature of life, time, and bodily renewal. In early Moclan society, the ability to survive on such minimal biological release was seen as a symbol of strength, endurance, and discipline. The first Ja'lojas were small, personal ceremonies to mark an individual's control over their body and their ability to endure the passage of a year before releasing the excess. Over time, this basic need gained layers of symbolic meaning, becoming associated with purification, not just of the body, but of the spirit and mind.

Historically, as Moclan civilization advanced, Ja'loja became an important communal event, signaling unity within clans or family groups. It serves as a moment of reflection on the past year, a time to purge not only physical waste, but also emotional burdens and tensions, preparing for a fresh start. Early Moclans believed that holding in and then releasing waste on a specific, sacred day helped align the individual with the rhythms of their world, ensuring harmony with the environment and one another.

As this ritualistic practice evolved, it has taken on a celebratory and ceremonial form, becoming an integral cultural moment for Moclans. By the time of their technological and societal advancements, the Ja'loja solidified as a formal tradition, blending personal purification with familial or community bonds. The gathering of loved ones during Ja'loja signifies support, solidarity, and a shared acknowledgment of the passage of time, all bound by a unique biological trait that sets Moclans apart."

Alara leaned back in her chair, letting out a low whistle. "Wow, that's... intense. I knew Ja'loja was important to Moclans, but I had no idea it had all that history behind it."

Brooke nodded, scrolling through more of the article on her tablet. "Yeah, it's fascinating. It's like a mixture of a New Year's celebration, a wedding, and a baptism all rolled into one."

Alara smirked. "Leave it to the Moclans to turn peeing into a life-altering event."

Brooke chuckled. "Right? But, honestly, it's kind of beautiful in a weird way. The idea of holding everything in for so long - physically, emotionally - and then just... letting it all go. It's a fresh start every year."

Alara swirled the wine in her glass, thinking. "I can see the appeal. In a way, we all need a Ja'loja, you know? A chance to let go of everything we've been holding on to, reset, and start over."

Brooke smiled. "Exactly. I mean, it's not something I'd ever want to experience firsthand," she added with a laugh, "but the symbolism is kind of powerful."

Alara nodded, her gaze distant for a moment. "Yeah... I guess sometimes we don't realize how much we're holding on to until it's time to let it go."

Brooke tilted her head, watching Alara closely. "You thinking about anything specific?"

Alara shrugged, taking another sip of wine. "Maybe. I mean, I've been on the Orville for a while now, and I feel like I'm still... holding back. From the crew, from myself. Like I'm always proving something."

Brooke gave her a sympathetic smile. "I get that. You're in a position where people expect you to be tough all the time. But it's okay to let people in, Alara."

Alara sighed. "Yeah, I know. It's just hard. I don't want to seem weak."

"You're not weak. And being vulnerable doesn't make you weak," Brooke said firmly. "Look at Ja'loja, it's all about strength through release, right? Maybe it's time you found your own way of letting go."

Alara smiled, the weight of Brooke's words settling over her. "You're right. Maybe I've been holding on to too much."

Brooke grinned. "Well, if you ever need a Ja'loja buddy, I'm here. Metaphorically, of course."

Alara laughed, the tension breaking. "Thanks, Brooke. I appreciate that."

Brooke leaned back, glancing at Alara. "You know, for someone so strong, you're pretty hard on yourself."

Alara shrugged. "Occupational hazard. I'm used to people looking at me like I'm some kind of Xelayan superwoman."

Brooke raised an eyebrow. "Maybe because you kind of are."

Alara rolled her eyes. "I just don't want to be seen as one thing. I want to be more than just 'the strong one.'"

Brooke nodded. "I get it. We all want to be seen for who we truly are."

"Exactly," Alara said, her tone softening. "I just... I don't know how to get past that."

Brooke smiled. "Well, you've already started. By talking to me, by opening up. That's a big step."

Alara sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. I guess it is."

Brooke sat in the mess hall by the wide, curved window, the soft glow of distant stars reflecting off the polished surface of her table. She was peacefully sipping her tea, her focus entirely on the tablet in front of her, immersed in whatever she was reading. The quiet hum of the ship's engines provided a soothing backdrop to her moment of tranquility.

Not far off, Gordon stood with John, nervously watching Brooke from a distance. John clapped him on the shoulder, trying to instill some confidence. "Okay, there she is. She's all alone, so this is your chance. You can do this, all right?"

Gordon nodded, though his stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. "Yeah, okay. Here goes."

He took a deep breath and began walking toward Brooke, each step feeling heavier than the last. But as he neared her table, his courage faltered. He veered to the right, making a wide circle around the room, pretending to be on a casual stroll. His nerves got the best of him, and instead of approaching Brooke, he found himself walking past her, barely able to glance in her direction. She remained completely unaware of his presence, still absorbed in her tablet.

Rejoining John, Gordon sighed in defeat. "Can't do it. Thanks for the help."

Before John could respond, Ed's voice crackled over the comm system. "All hands, this is the captain. We are entering the orbit of Moclus."

Gordon sighed again, his moment slipping further away as the announcement echoed throughout the ship. He'd have to try again another day… if he could ever work up the nerve.

The crew of the Orville stood on the rugged cliffside of Moclus, the alien landscape bathed in the warm hues of a setting sun. Jagged mountains stretched into the distance, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain, while the wind howled faintly, carrying with it the weight of centuries of tradition. The air was thick with anticipation, the strange, solemn energy of the ceremony amplifying the natural beauty of the scene.

Bortus stood alone at the cliff's edge, his broad figure framed against the vast sky. He was yards ahead of the rest of the crew, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on the horizon. Behind him, Ed, Kelly, Alara, Gordon, and the others watched in respectful silence, each sensing the gravity of the moment.

With a deep breath, Bortus began to speak, his voice low and resonant, cutting through the wind. "In the sight of those who stand with me, and those for whom I would sacrifice my being, I begin... the release…"

His words, spoken in the ancient Moclan tongue, grew more rhythmic as he continued, his chant rising and falling like the distant waves crashing against the cliffside. "Kalaskacha. Mech-gadlas fekto roschas..."

The syllables seemed to reverberate through the air, carrying the weight of countless Ja'lojas that had come before. The crew remained still, eyes on Bortus, feeling both the solemnity and the strange intimacy of witnessing such a deeply personal ritual.

"Bam... val..." Bortus's final word lingered, echoing through the canyon.

"Ja'loja!"

The crew, as one, echoed the word, their voices rising into the twilight, as if becoming part of the very air around them. "Ja'loja!"

The mess hall on the Orville was transformed for the Ja'loja celebration. Bortus stood near the head of the room, stoic as ever, though a small, rare smile graced his usually impassive face. The rest of the crew was scattered throughout the room. Laughter, clinking glasses, and cheerful conversation filled the air, adding warmth to the formal event.

Alara stood with a drink in hand, talking to John, Gordon, and Brooke near one of the food tables. "I still can't believe we just attended an entire ceremony dedicated to…" She paused, searching for the right word. "Well, you know."

John smirked. "Yeah, that was... something. But, hey, if it's meaningful to Bortus, it's meaningful to us."

"Yeah, but I'm still trying to get used to Moclan traditions," Gordon added with a grin. "I mean, if this is how they celebrate, what do they do for a wedding? Dance around a bonfire?"

John laughed, shaking his head. "You probably don't want to know."

Brooke caught Gordon's eye and smiled. "I'm impressed you managed to avoid cracking a joke during the ceremony."

Gordon beamed and raised his glass. "Barely. But now, I'm just here for the food. Have you tried these appetizers? They're amazing!"

Brooke chuckled. "I'll take your word for it. I haven't been brave enough yet to try the Moclan dishes."

As the group laughed, Ed walked over with Kelly by his side. He glanced around the room, a look of contentment on his face. "Well, we made it. We survived the ceremony, and now we're celebrating like pros. How's everyone holding up?"

"Can't complain," John replied. "Though I'm pretty sure Gordon's had more appetizers than anyone else here."

Gordon held up his plate in mock defense. "Hey, don't judge me! I'm just showing my appreciation for the culture."

Ed laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, keep showing that appreciation. We want Bortus to feel supported."

Bortus, overhearing the conversation, approached the group with a calm expression. "It is good to see you all enjoying yourselves. The Ja'loja is a significant event for Moclans. I am honored that you have joined me in this tradition."

"We wouldn't miss it," Kelly replied warmly. "It's a unique experience, and we're happy to be part of it."

Bortus nodded, the small smile returning to his lips. "Thank you, Commander. Your presence means much to me."

The group fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the shared camaraderie evident in their smiles and glances. Then, Gordon cleared his throat, breaking the quiet with his usual humor. "So, Bortus… do Moclans have a dance for Ja'loja? Because I'm ready to bust a move if you need me to."

Bortus raised an eyebrow, considering the question. "Moclan ceremonies do not traditionally include dancing. However, I understand it is customary for humans to engage in such activities at celebrations."

Gordon's face lit up. "That sounds like permission to me!" He shot John a look and wiggled his eyebrows. "What do you say, man? Let's get this party started!"

John laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not sure this is that kind of party."

But Gordon wasn't deterred. He grabbed a nearby tablet, quickly tapping into the ship's sound system. A moment later, upbeat music filled the mess hall, causing several heads to turn in surprise. Gordon grinned and immediately began dancing, throwing exaggerated moves into the mix.

Brooke covered her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter. "Oh my god, Gordon, what are you doing?"

Alara couldn't hold back her smile either. "You're going to embarrass yourself."

But Gordon, undeterred, spun in place, his movements wild and uncoordinated. "No way! This is how you celebrate Moclan style!"

The room burst into laughter, and despite the absurdity of it, several others began joining in. John rolled his eyes, but eventually gave in, doing a small dance of his own. Brooke and Alara followed suit, laughing as they swayed to the beat, the awkwardness of the earlier ceremony forgotten.

Even Bortus watched the scene with a strange sense of amusement, his arms crossed as he observed the human enthusiasm. Kelly caught his expression and nudged him lightly. "You know, you could join in."

Bortus looked at her, clearly unenthusiastic about the idea. "I do not dance."

Ed chuckled from beside them. "That's okay, Bortus. You've already done more than enough tonight."

As the night went on, the mess hall continued to fill with laughter and dancing. The crew of the Orville celebrated their strange and unexpected family bond, their shared experiences strengthening the ties between them.

And for Bortus, though the Ja'loja ceremony had been deeply personal, the laughter and joy of his crew made it all the more meaningful. This, he realized, was what it meant to have true friends, to have people who stood by you, whether in solemn rituals or ridiculous parties.