"Yeah. My first officer is Vulcan. Well, half. They're a crazy intelligent race of touch-telepaths who operate solely on logic. It's as irritating as it sounds." Still, Jim sounds very fond even as he gripes. "They're also endangered now because of.." Wow. That was gonna be...a long story. A long story culminating into Jim being dead. "Some stuff that may have been the major reason I became the youngest captain in Starfleet record."

"But there's plenty of planets in the Federation. We try to keep things level--species with mind altering pheromones or things like that have to go through some admittedly kind of harsh hoops to get into Starfleet, but it's a public safety thing more than anything. Hell I was born in space."

Jim leans over and peers into Clint's box while he's talking, and steals what looks to be a chocolate chip cookie from it. Clint has plenty more in there and Jim's box was sadly cookie-free. Though considering he has coffee cake and pound cake in his, well that just means he pours himself another mug of coffee.

"You said you've been t'space before, right?" Jim points at Clint after a long sip. "No pointy eared robots, blue antennaed guys or green skinned pheromone spewing mind controllers?" He's curious as to how different this universe's galaxy is. Or..you know. Maybe they were looking in different places is all. Space was a big damn place.