Suddenly it clicked together in Gashvorn's head. The long travel distance, the suggestion from the translator that they live practically inside the nuclear furnace of a star..."Assistant Dviir, these humans may be the highest caste species to ever visit Atrotomsk. The energy they're handing us right now is merely them setting this room to a comfortable equilibrium. They may not even notice it, they come from the very edges of a star. They aren't offering money because they don't have any heat, and need to trade representations of it. They are offering money because they think we are so low caste that we've never handled enough raw energy appreciate it on the levels they must use. To these humans, we must look like savages, out in the cold edges of space. They stuff their ships with explosive gas, heedless of risk, just for the beauty of having it dance their words. Go tell the merchant that the humans have paid with the heat here, and won't care that its more than he wants."
