Aquatic Aliens?

    The waters of the two vessels mingled in the transfer corridor, creating a momentary cessation of thought in the occupants as the tastes and scents of the two very different spacecraft clashed, and the chemical echoes of old commands, astonished interjections, and fond farewells were resurrected with the swirling cold saline eddies.  For Adok-ob-341, it was stunning. This was his first time aboard a vessel other than of his birth.  He had lived among the waters of home and close kin his entire eight-thousand duty cycles of life.
    His kin-father, or the male creche sibling of his male progenitor, led the way into the transfer corridor as the hatches closed behind them. He impulsed his way to the other end of the corridor on a jet of salt water where the Master of this vessel and his Second awaited them. Six each of long sinuous limbs snaked and coiled between them as scent markers were exchanged, adding to the chemical-chaos in the water for Adok-ob-341.  A ship had its own signature 'taste,' an underlying foundation for the many communication-emissions that passed between a ship's crew that Kotor-ob-303, his kin-father, made more familiar even as the Master and Second made them more alien.
    Adok-ob was lucky in that he had spent time with older kin who had gone to other ships for their first terms, then found their way back to the tribeships on the business of the tribefleet.  They had given him some idea of what to expect as an Unproven Youth on his first assignment.  Getting used to the foundation notes of a new ship was always the hardest part.
    The Master was an ancient among the tribe, having lived for more than 180,000 duty cycles, and nearly all of them spent aboard the Beka series Resource Collector that Adok-ob had been assigned to.  It was a dubious honor in the mind of many.  Resource Collectors were the lifeblood of the tribefleet, but Adok-ob and his kind were warriors, guardians and caretakers of the possessions of no less than the Gods of the Universe themselves.  It was to be expected that an Unproven Youth be sent to one for his first assignment away from his home.  It was scandalous to spend one's entire life aboard one.
    The Master looked him over with four rheumy eyes as he drifted languidly in the saline filled tunnel that was lit with the cold blue-violet of sterilizing lamps.  His six squid-like limbs undulated with the doddering tremors of the very aged, but Adok-ob wondered with a youth's contempt if he had ever shown the disciplined stillness of a warrior.
    "This one is truly Adol-ob's issue," the Master spoke. His words were clicks and rasps and bio-luminescent flashes on pale and shriveled skin. His huge bulbous head shrunk and expanded as scent markers which provided emotional context to the spoken and luminous speech indicated approval. The saline water of the narrow tunnel corridor reverberated with those words, and Adok-ob hastily revised some of his youthful contempt at the sense of command within them.
    "Adol-ob-288 insisted that he be sent to you," Kotor-ob replied coolly.  "In honor of my creche sibling, I fulfill his wishes."
    The Master made a scent harrumph at this.  "You do not approve."
    "I do not," Kotor-ob returned testily.  The tunnel took on a sour tang of displeasure that the mild circulation systems would be awhile in clearing.  This was not a volume meant for tarrying in.  "The statistics of Accepted Adults moving on from this posting to honorable positions within the tribefleet are the poorest on record for some hundred and fifty-thousand duty cycles."
    This number's significance was not lost on Adok-ob.  That would mark the time when the Master had first risen to command this Beka.  He did not have leave to speak, and so he remained silent, but his own chemical anxieties were starting to contaminate the conversation.
    "Adol-ob served aboard my Beka," the Master replied coolly. My Beka!  What nerve!  No vessel master ever referred to their command in such personal terms of ownership!  They were simply the servants of the Gods of highest preferment aboard.  "He has since gone forth to the highest glories and honors of the 33rd Fleet, and command of his own Zeka Greater Guardian."
    There was added insolence in the statement that Kotor-ob was not slow to recognize.  Kotor-ob was of the Battle-Management caste now.  Aides to the commanders of vessels.  It was they who with the assistance of the Voices of Advisement collated data and gave reports that counseled commanders and overcommanders in their decisions.  There was no doubt that the Battle-Managers enjoyed high preferment within the tribe, but they rarely stepped out from the lees of their superiors to their own commands.  They rose only to the stagnant water in the shelter of their masters' wakes.
    "Adol-ob has no doubt gone on to the Gods' reward," Kotor-ob replied with an angry bite to the saline waters surrounding him.  "His Zeka and its consorts are now one hundred and twenty duty cycles overdue, meaning it is likely they and their irreplaceable Gamka Carry-All are lost."  A squamous tentacle snaked out to Adok-ob.  "His last unassigned male issue.  Do not make him into one of your cultists."  This was rasped out with the strongest warning scents, causing Adok-ob's blood to change colors and with it his skin pigment blended with the coral-like walls of the corridor tunnel in an instinctive fear reaction.
    "Control yourself!" Kotor-ob barked at him.  Even a Youth should have better command over himself at this point in his life.
    Adok-ob steeled himself.  He was of proud lineage within the tribefleet -- a fact that had been ceaselessly pointed out to him during all of his many youthful follies and indiscretions.  Much was expected of him.
    The Master looked on him somewhat more kindly.  "You have fulfilled the wishes of and honored your creche-sibling, Kotor-ob-303.  Return to your vessel.  I take the custody of Adok-ob-341 into this Beka, serial 230651.  He shall be tried in accordance with the Regulations, and his performance of duties shall embody his fate.  He shall mingle in our waters for the prescribed time.  He shall ride the stars in the name of our Lords and carry our Their Will.  Go in peace."
    Kotor-ob-303 flashed luminescent signs of understanding and acceptance at the scrupulously rendered recitation of the formula, then jetted back to the hatch of his own vessel, which opened to readmit him before closing with a clunk and gurgle of finality.  He did not look back at Adok-ob, nor give the customary caress of close kin in farewell.  For all signs and portents, Adok-ob-341 was already dead to him.
    The Master kept his eyes on Adok-ob-341.
    "Youth!" he cried with more of that surprising vigor and command.  "Second Gomok-na-89 will be your reporting authority from now until further notice.  Your evaluation has begun."

-The Legacy, short fiction by J. Austin Wilde

One thing that has long fascinated me about James Cameron's The Abyss is the idea of a water breathing alien intelligence capable of interstellar travel.  It seems to me that the obstacles to overcome to reach the stars get an extra degree of difficulty when you live underwater. Is such a species likely without an Uplifting hand? The beings written about above were Uplifted, but the 'Gods' they referred to were themselves aquatic at one point in their species' existence.  What would it be like to travel through space while taking your ocean with you? How would you interact with the space environment?  What special challenges are there to aquatic species?  Do they have any particular advantages we air breathers lack?