“Query: Does Amander have to pace like that?”
Amander couldn’t really do anything to help Spot and Fluur, as shooting things in the face real good doesn’t help with medical procedures. In addition, letting an untrained Terran loose in a facility filled with sensitive medical equipment and dangerous chemicals was a quick way to blow up a moon. This left Amander with the only real option to nervously pace around the small break room
“Well you’re the one who said I had to stay ‘ere.”
Amander didn’t like waiting. There was always something to do or some task that needed completing, even if it was as simple as maintenance. This meant that right now, she had no idea what to do with herself.
“Responding query: I said that having the Terran roaming freely around sensitive materials would not have positive outcomes. I did not intend for that to mean you must remain in the same 1ft area.”
Steve was obviously also in the break room, hovering as always, keeping an eye on the Terran to make sure they didn’t set fire to something. Or cover it in cheese. Or set fire to something while covering it in cheese. Next to the Scythen and slumped in a chair was the last unaccounted for member of the research team, Baithe. The Hatil had mostly followed the others out of a curiosity about the Terran.
Amander gave a sigh, flopping down onto a seat and tapping her fingers on a table, before pulling a GalNet connector out of her pocket and staring at it for a moment.
“How the hell has it only been twenty minutes!” Amander exclaimed loudly, clearly frustrated.
“So how do you and Spot know each other? From the sounds of it you both go way back.”
Baithe asked this with a smile, half with actual curiosity, half so that Amander would be distracted enough to stop fidgeting while waiting for Fluur's treatment to finish. It seemed to partially work, as the Terran returned the smile as she responded.
“You could say that. Originally got ‘im from a neighbour whose dog had just had a litter of puppies. Cute as a button and super smart, even before the upliftin’. Been my best friend ever since.”
The distraction seemingly worked as Amander gave a nostalgic smile on remembering Spot as a puppy.
“Didn’t originally plan on getting it done, but then the military started payin for regenerations and uplifts. Just had to stick around for four years, and then figured I’d give Spot the ability to think and I'd get to live forever.”
Amander gave a small chuckle at that joke. Just 4 years. 200 years later, with a few gaps here or there, she had been doing the same job. Still she’d been competent at it, enjoyed it, and overall it had been worth it. At least until it turned out that you couldn’t trust other Terrans.
“Wait, you were part of the military? That’s so cool!” The curiosity flowed out of Baithe, getting more animated and enthusiastic as she spoke. “Is that how you managed to kill the Raha prince? The Zorthian mentioned some of it, one Terran army, like some kind of action movie!”
“Exasperated statement: Baithe, that is not polite to discuss! Our apologies to Amander.”
Steve was flashing the purple and black hue of annoyance, causing the Hatil opposite them to deflate a little.
“Sorry…”
“Don’t you worry bout it, water under a bridge.” The Terran waved off the apology before getting back up and making her way over to the break room's replicator. “Though if this is what we’re blabbering about then I reckon this ain’t a sober conversation.”
Amander pressed a few inputs on the machine, before frowning and pressing a few more, ending with a flat out scowl and giving the machine a hefty thump.
“What the hell is wrong with this?”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“Explaining query: All replicators in the research facility cannot create mind altering substances, to avoid potential incidences.”
The frown on Amander’s face deepened even further, before pressing a few more buttons and procuring a piece of gum, chewing it up quickly before returning it back to its aluminium packaging.
“Learned this trick in basic, watch closely”
Baith learned forwards to watch closer as the Terran procured a knife from her side, jamming it into a crack in the replicator’s casing. With one swift movement she popped the side cover off, before delicately placing the gum covered wrapper in a specific location.
“Ya just gotta pop the side off, then make sure the ends are touching that weird L looking piece and the smiley face circuit. Then reboot it aaaaand”.
There was a moment delay as the replicator rebooted itself, then with a satisfied look Amander pressed the inputs once again, this time procuring a bottle of beer from the machine.
“Just make sure you remove it before anyone comes round, and unless someone checks the logs there ain’t no trace.”
“Holy shit, you are now my new favourite person!”
Baithe jumped up excitedly from her seat, pumping both adorable paws into the air as she proclaimed her new found friendship with the alcohol supplying Terran.
“Statement: This is against the Terran Alliance Scientific Progress Initiative guidelines.”
The Scythen remained colourless, no emotions feeding through as Amander rolled her eyes.
“If Squidward don’t want any I ain't forcin' ya.”
“Clarifying statement: I never said that. Make mine a Kirken Skorackta.”
—----------------------------------
It had been around two hours of talking and drinking, a time period that could be measured more by the bottles and glasses stacked up on the table in front of the three. The conversation with Amander was more than pleasant, especially considering that the Terran was a fountain of information regarding their coworker and mutual friend. Often embarrassing information.
“So Spot is stood up on the stage right, just havin’ finished pre-med and obviously gets to do the… the wassit name. The speech you give for being top of your class.”
Amander clicked her fingers repeatedly trying to remember the word before being helped by the Scythen.
“Aiding statement: Valedictorian address.”
“That’s the one! So he’s stood there giving his talk, standin' in his fancy robe. I’m proud as punch of the little guy. When suddenly he just stops, stares out into the university grounds and shouts ‘SQUIRREL’ at the top of his voice before takin' a flyin' leap off the stage.”
“Wait really?” Baithe had a shocked smile across her face, expression stuck in incredulous mirth. “We’re talking about the same Spot here right? The guy who wrote half the research papers I studied at uni?”
Amander took a moment to take another swig of beer with a smirk before continuing with her story.
“Back then the uplift stuff was kinda new, so the balance between instinct and not hadn’t been dialled in yet. You get it wrong and you end up with a dude with a degree climbing a tree chasin' vermin. There was a good thirty seconds of that, then Spot just climbed back down, walks back up that stage and just continues where he left off while still covered in half a bush. If he ever gets too big for his britches, just shout ‘Squirrel’ at him, embarrasses the heck out of him.”
A small amount of drunken giggling continued among the group, the thought of the well respected doctor chasing after a squirrel entering the trio’s mind.
“Contemplative statement: It is strange to consider that Spot started out life non-sapient.”
Steve was a curious blue colour as he poured some more alcoholic beverage into his feeding tubes.
“It’s just how it is. They’ve always been man’s best friends so as soon as we could bring em along for the ride, we did.” Amander responded with a smile “I got pictures if you wanna see em.”
“More than anything, yes!” The Hatil almost sent the gin and tonic she was drinking to the ground as Baithe gave an excited clap, catching the offending glass before it tumbled off the table. The grin didn’t leave Baithe’s face as Amander fumbled with her GalNet connector, eventually showing the group an old picture of the adorable black Labrador puppy that would later become Spot.
The group quietened down a little, the current conversation thread running it course as they continued to nurse their drinks. It was the Scythen who picked the conversation back up, more serious this time.
“Asking Query: Do you believe anything could come of the Raha situation, any other species the Estorian’s would declare war”
“Even if they did, the Terran’s would just blow up a planet then become their best friend!” Baithe responded matter of factly, confident in her assessment of Terrans. “A Terran can’t go pick up fuel without making three new friends and adopting a wild animal.”
Amander’s face soured for a moment, mood turning more sombre with this line of discussion.
“This would be different. Estorians are slaving assholes who are an actual threat. Not just an incident or a bust up, things tend to get out of hand with us when an actual war is on the table.”
“Dismissive statement: I never understood why Terrans have such a negative view of themselves. The only species to have a negative inclination to Terrans, the friendliest species in the galaxy, are Terrans themselves.”
The statement from Steve got a small smile out of Amander, who simply finished off her current drink before continuing.
“I reckon it won’t matter. They’ll throw a hissy fit, but neither side really wants a fight. We’ll just go back to the galactic ‘I’m not touching you’ game.”
“They’d have to do something really stupid for it to go further.”