"I don't paint, okay? I-I'm an instrument of war! I don't care about stupid peace-time nonsense like colors or...or composition or anything like that!" I tore the painting I spent days working on right in half with my bladed foreclaws, but Dr. Stephan, my superior officer aboard the Federation Kestrel we crewed, was hardly convinced by my stuttered lies. "Now if you tell anyone about this I'll add your glowy-ass corpse to my sleepy bedtime pile!"