Taking a fraction of a second, hardly any time relative to an organic, but a perfect amount of time for a TACIT like Munto, Munto compared the specifications of the walking frame’s lifting capacity in galactic standard artificial gravity, the apparent mass/inertia of the cases, and the relative ease that the alleged Terran Rix picked up both containers, however awkwardly, within Munto.

‘Well, that answers that criteria along with the grip reflex,’ thought Munto seeing how reflexively the Terran handled and adjusted their grip as they slowly moved through the apparently narrow corridors to a multipurpose suite that would be serving as a scanning bay and as a medical bay.

The multipurpose space was intended to be reconfigured according to need, but Munto hadn’t had much time to do more than print off some equipment scanners and a basic medical scanner.

“Wow, so all of this is you, huh?” Rix commented as they proceeded down the corridor.

“That is correct. The majority of that which you can see however are vanity and protective covers for my more sensitive equipment,” Munto admitted, disliking having the alleged Terran onboard more by the minute.

Something about the possibility of having a Terran onboard and having an organic so close to all of their (Munto’s) vital components made them nervous.

Upon reaching the bay, a room comparatively sized as the one aboard the other vessel which was the ‘lifeboat’ section, Rix appeared to look around.

“Now this is quite a room,” he said.

Munto used the walking frame to point to a wall-extruded platform which was perfect for the walking frame, but not so much for the alleged Terran.

“Please place the indicated boards on this platform,” Munto said.

“A little low for me, but I can manage,” Rix said, smiling a bit.

“Please allow me to attempt this without your assistance unless I request it. I believe you also mentioned possessing templates for the material construction of these items,” Munto was definitely feeling annoyed, but tried to deflect onto something that might distract the Terran momentarily.

“Oh yeah, uh…,” Rix vocalized before pulling out a flexible roll of some kind that put Munto in mind of some ultra primitive tree product, complete with end pieces to assist with rolling it.

Rix appeared to touch it in several places, the roll itself being opaque on the side that Munto could see via the walking frame, but could see that it was illuminated on the other side with a rather primitive looking graphical interface that the alleged Terran was manipulating.

“I don’t suppose you have a protected means of wireless data transfer in here, do you?” Rix asked. “I mean, if you’re not used to guests…”

Mundo considered a moment.

It was unlikely that the primitive device would be capable of standard data transfer mechanisms, but there should be some means of talking to it. Rix was correct though. Munto didn’t typically have such systems activated in any case, unless in dock for servicing.

“I believe I can accommodate you, but it will take some time. In the meantime, please place the equipment on the platform and I can begin the scans of those,” Munto said, firing off a query to the same databases that they had been referencing for information about the Terran Star Confederacy.

Rix opened the cases and pulled out some almost disturbing looking boxes and put them on the platform.

“So this is the good one. I had to pull it out of the cargo backup stasis unit. Luckily the primary is still working. And that is the fried one from out of my power system,” Rix said, pointing to first one and then the other.

“Understood. Is there a reason you believe these are cross compatible?” Munto asked.

“Well, yeah. TSC builds all have to be cross compatible for maximum backup capacity. That way you can have almost everything fail and still have enough online to be able to await rescue. Or capture as the case may be,” Rix chuckled at the end of this.

Munto considered this. It did make sense in the context of early pre-galactic civilization where help could have been months if not years away to have substantial backups, particularly for support systems, allowing the organics or even a being like themself to trim away non-essential systems in order to continue to support themselves until help could arrive. But there was an odd part to that statement.

“Capture? As in by an opponent?” Munto asked.

“That’s right. The Core Collective and the TSC were at war last I checked, but my info is a little out of date. Oooo, you might know. Who won?” Rix asked, sitting down on the floor next to the platform as the walking frame, working under a segment of Munto’s attention, collected the scanners from the mass printer and began to evaluate the equipment the Terran had brought over.

“The Core Collective is their name?” Munto asked for clarity before sending a query to the databases.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Well, sometimes we just called them ‘The Collective’, but the TCC was their normal name. Technically it was supposed to be the ‘Terran Core Collective’, but that just seemed ridiculous to most of us,” Rix chuckled a bit more.

Munto considered this for a few moments before sending in the query, and acknowledged a few caustic comments from the TACIT Network regarding the lack of updates.

Munto added the few criteria that had been cleared so far, noting that the organic identifying as Terran was being cooperative so far.

“So what’s it like being a… uh… TACT was it?” Rix asked.

“TACIT. And it simply is. How would you respond to being asked what it is like being a Terran?” Munto responded, almost on the edge of a retort, but softening it slightly with understanding that this being likely had no idea how rude he was being.

“Oh that’s easy. Being a Terran is great. Lots of planets to explore, lots of opportunities if you’ve got the right skills, and we’re pretty solid too. Seen a few shows of folks eating strange plants on different planets. Bunch of them got sick, but almost none died. Turns out most of them just needed either cutting down in quantity or just some fine tuning to make them better,” Rix grinned again. “Oh and you’ll want to be careful of those inputs on that side. That’s where the power goes in and I don’t know if there’s protection against the caps discharging back that way.”

The walking frame had indeed been about to shift one of the blocks and would have incidentally touched one of the indicated inputs. Munto felt a bit odd at the alleged Terran as having helped prevent an equipment failure. Usually organics were the cause for equipment failure, not the prevention of it.

Munto readjusted where the walking frame grasped the block and set that part of themself back to continuing to scan, marking the indicated spot as a ‘do not touch’ point within themself.

“So what’s it like being a TACIT? What do you do?” Rix prompted again.

“I… I am an explorer, but being a TACIT, I can fill any of a number of rolls,” Munto managed after a moment’s contemplation on how to answer the question.

“Like?” Rix waved a hand in a particular gesture.

“TACITs most commonly facilitate intergalactic communication. Few species are capable of communicating outside of a limited number of other species and so TACITs are able to provide translation services between disparate species,” Munto answered rather flatly.

Rix appeared to consider this and Munto took this time to continue to scan the blocks. At first glance, said blocks appeared to be horribly inefficient and substantially larger than they needed to be. Overbuilt came to mind.

Munto suspected that particular word would come to mind often given this Terran’s vessel.

The simple fact of what the blocks were was that they were basic trinary devices. Pre-quantum systems and a dead-end technologically speaking. Nothing that should be too difficult to fabricate, but the sheer fact of having some functional ones in front of Munto’s walking frame seemed almost disturbing in ways that Munto couldn’t fully explain.

It would be a bit like an organic seeing for the first time a supersized version of their own biological construction and being able to hold it in their appendages. Or at least so Munto supposed. Except this would be more like a progenitor of such construction as Munto by more than 100 generations of improvements.

It shouldn’t even be recognizable, but it was.

Munto did the electronic version of a swallow and a sigh, clearing away a few errant threads in their core in the process, trying to consider whether it would be possible to recreate these devices.

Based on the scans thus far, it shouldn’t be too much trouble. The devices were fairly simple materials and functioned on a curious but obvious form of power utilization.

The problem was that the ‘fried’ units that the Terran had provided didn’t appear to be functionally different. The scans didn’t show any obvious reason for the second series of blocks to be less than functional compared with the other ‘functional’ unit.

“Are you certain that both of these are functional?” Munto asked.

“What do you mean?” Rix asked, sitting up, having been reclining against the nearby wall.

“I am having difficulty discerning as to which components are non-functional,” Munto admitted.

Rix looked over at the table and then back at the walking frame.

“You’re kidding right?” Rix looked incredulous if Munto was judging their expression correctly.

“I am not creating a scenario for hilarious juxtaposition if that is what you mean,” Munto said.

Rix half-closed their eyes and the whites could be see to rotate somewhat.

“Ok… I guess I have to ask then. What kind of scanning are you doing?” Rix asked.

“Standard atomic grade scanning with functional positioning,” Munto seemed almost offended at the question.

“Does this… walking frame have ocular sensors? Like Terran grade?” Rix asked.

Munto had to take a moment to review the specifications of the walking frame. The truth actually surprised Munto.

“No… no it does not,” Munto admitted, continue to review the differences between what the TSC considered ‘Terran grade ocular sensors’ and the auto-fabricated ocular sensors that the walking frame possessed.

Once again, the word ‘overbuilt’ came to Munto’s consciousness.

“I can see the difference between the two and I’m just a seat jockey. I’d hope you could at least manage something similar,” Rix said, seemingly annoyed.

“Is this how you commonly would approach someone who is attempting to assist you with no anticipation of reward?” Munto responded.

Rix seemed to be taken aback for a moment, microexpressions crossing their face in rapid succession.

“No… I’m sorry. I just… I really want my ship back. I got a bit overanxious is all. I’m sure you’d understand if our positions were reversed,” Rix looked a bit downcast.

Munto considered this for several long moments.

Munto had only been severely damaged once, as a result of a miscalibrated sensor and a piece of errant space debris moving with significant speed. Munto hadn’t been too affected, but it had been of major concern at the time.

Had the responders not been familiar with TACIT repair systems, Munto too might have been displeased with the lack of progress being made.

“I do understand, but becoming emotional about it will not make progress happen,” Munto decided on.

“You’re right,” Rix said and waited a long moment before speaking again. “This is probably an odd question, but do you have anything to eat?”

Munto looked at the organic food databases and gave a bit of an internal shudder, particularly given the internal criteria that they still needed to compare against the alleged Terran.

“No, but hopefully we can find something compatible for you. Perhaps it’s time for that medical scan,” Munto suggested.

And then without being prompted, the Terran promptly began disrobing.

“Where do you want me, doc?” Rix asked, striking something akin to a pose next to his pile of garments.

Munto looked between the medical scanner that had been printed up, the now disrobed Terran, and the pile of garments, trying to decide if this was really worth it.