I was dreaming up one of the "Families" in the Cirocal, and I was envisioning a clan of New-Age Vikings. They would be a stand in for the Klingons in Star Trek. Warrior Culture. Toxic Masculinity. Party as hard as they fight.
But in the back of my head, I was imagining that the warriors probably have an army of accountants chasing after them. And at the head of that column would be Hilda. Hilda from Accounting. I picture her as a middle age, heavy set woman who is the picture of Aryan beauty. Someone you could see in a viking helmet, singing at the end of an Opera.
When the Alien says "Take me to your leader", and the crew takes them to see the Captain, the Alien would say "NO. YOUR REAL LEADER". And the Captain would blush, and point down the hall to Hilda's office. She runs payrol. She navigates the charts of accounting. You can kill any man on board where they stand, but cross Hilda at your peril.
She writes the checks.
I imagine her as sweet doting person. Until you get on her bad side. Almost like Uni-Kitty in the Lego movie. And in the top drawer of her desk is the Shit list. Every so often she'll dramatically open the drawer to see if the person on the other side of the desk is on it. And if they continue to give her crap, she'll get out a pen.
Most sensible people stop there. (You never see more than a passing glance of the list. But on it are famous names.)