Nestled deep within the “Argent moon”, a deep space mining outpost of the corporate kind, the “Void liquor” was full of patrons as usual. The cozy small establishment had over the years turned into a true haven for deep space miners, as employees of all races in the galaxy could enjoy a well earned refreshment or simple meal after their long and hard shifts of cracking up asteroids to feed the galaxy’s industrial sector, and their bosses' purses.
Tables and benches of all sizes and shapes, littered the place as tired miners sipped slothfully on their drinks. Save for one table that had become a common sight for any client of the Void Liquor in the past days.
“AH HA, WHO GOT THE PERFORMANCE BONUS FOR OUTPERFORMING THE WHOLE SHIFT? that’s right I DID!” Mason Flaunted his credit-card’s display, which was showing a number larger than usual. “read em and weep jelly face! you’re not the ONLY essential personnel in this tin can of a station it would seem∼” The smug exuberance of the terran annoyed his Sileothon drinking partner, previous owner of the longer streak of performance bonuses on the station, that kept sipping on a mix of calcium and potassium nitrate mixed with sodium hypochlorite, a classic soft drink.
“you achieved that bonus by the slimmest of margins, barely 5% more of the required 120% Average Productivity Output of your shift…just order something” Glymether, veteran of a hundred greater bonuses, found little merit in such a small margin, but the human was undeterred “that makes me ‘technically’ better! the best kind of being better! … but yes i think i will order … “ he said, pocketing clumsy his credit-chip
While most guests of the Void liquor enjoyed their drink in silence and peace, one particular duo seemed keen on loudly enjoying theirs, the human Mason Kallaway, and the Sileothon Glymether. The communal Human were a rare sight in the galaxy, the bipedal mammals, adaptable to a fault, spread across the stars in record time, but generally tended to stick to their kin, and despite being everywhere, they were never too numerous, except on Argent moon, as the installation was run by a terran extraction company, and as such meeting a terran here was quite normal. What was unusual was that this one, Mason, wasn’t a part of management but a miner like a rest, the sole human miner in fact.
The Sileothon instead were the completely opposite, silicon based life forms, that in their ideal environment would be molten and amorphous, they were extremely solitary, and tended to roam the galaxy looking for a way to spend their ridiculously long life, bringing with them their portable nuclear reactor necessary to keep them at the temperature needed to live, at a cozy 1700°C, not enough to be liquid liquid like on their homeworld but sufficient to stay mobile and not solidify, always shrouded in an energy shield to avoid melting whatever station they were on.
“Mhh, i don’t know what to get…” Mason thought out loud “any suggestion?” he added, directed to his unwilling drinking buddy. Sighing internally Glymether resigned to another post-shift spent with the human, hoping that it hadn’t bonded already. “if you have to stay at this table… you might take a simple copper clor-” but the suggestion was cut off by mason who folded the cocktail pamphlet in his hands and tossed it to the robotic waiter standing Just next to their round bar table, “one rum and coke please”, to that the machine whirred away on its singular wheel, back to the bar counter where produced the drink in a few seconds.
“ah thank you Alfred, the tip is on the house” Mason thanked, and the robot turned to serve other tables.
“That robot is not identified as ‘Alfred’, so why do you insist on calling him that?” Glymether asked to now confirmed drinking partner, “Just guessing, and it’s not like he’s correcting me so i must be right” Mason answered, Glymether staggered at the cocksure confidence of the terran, and rebuked “it is a cheap waiter-droid, i doubt it even has a voice box” “well if that’s the case then what’s its actual name huh?” the snarky terran remarked, to that Glymether took a second to think.
Nobody knew the machine’s ID, and it was unlikely to be named by its uncaring manufacturers, “i… don’t know…likely some alphanumeric ID…” Glymether guessed, only for Mason to retort “ah HA you don't know! then my guess is as good as yours, and if you don’t have any suggestion, and the machine doesn’t object… then its name is Alfred”
Tired of the human shenanigans Glymether yielded. “...whatever” not wanting to spoil the hard earned post-shift beverage, much to Mason’s amusement who took a swig of his drink with a cocky grin, proud of his shenanigans, and of being ‘technically’ the most productive this shift. Thus a few seconds of silence followed as both drank away the conversation.
But the Silence was not meant to last, much to Glymether chagrin. “Excuse me” an unremarkable voice called to the two, almost whispering, as if worried to bother the silence itself. Mason jumped in his seat at the unexpected voice, he wasn’t used to being addressed, xenos barely talked to one another let alone him, he appeased his self esteem by thinking that it was because they didn’t want to bother what could have been a manager, a simple delusion. A quick glance at the room revealed no one looking his way.
“Down there dummy” Glymether pointed with an extended arm, prompting Mason to look down, who noticed what he would have sworn to be the cutest darn thing he had seen since he started this job, which looked out of place amidst all the rough and tough spacers that called this station their home. “i apologise good sir, i do not wish to disturb but i sought to petition your council” a diminutive lizard-like alien stood almost below the bar table, with large black eyes, glistening in the dim neon light of the Cocktail bar, it’s green small scaled, covering most of it’s visible body, as white softer ones, layed the lower part of his short muzzle, and neck, and likely belly, which was hidden by the pitch black and skin tight work unisuit, that made up the base of their work uniform, and modular base for their mining gear.
Modularity was always a staple of terran tech, and some species appreciated it more than others, this one seeming to enjoy his suit enough to keep it in the after hours.
“Sure little guy! How can I help you?” Mason asked, at that the small thing introduced itself, eyes beaming with joy “it is an honour to meet you, Mason Kallaway, this is your third consecutive shift in which you have earned a performance bonus, i too seek to one day earn it, please kind sir could you teach me your method?” the whole statement was ended with the most devious puppy eyes a reptile could produce, the entire performance giving a sort of ‘small victorian child’ vibe that captivated Mason, triggering latent parental instinct, that the part of him that had given up on being anything more than ‘the cool uncle’ simply could not withstand. “Aww of course little guy, come sit here with us”, Glymether groaned internally at the terran’s weakness before his own instincts, and resigned to yet another ‘drinking buddy’ as the terran called Table-companions.
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The small one approached the bar stool closest to the human, at the round bar table they were sitting at, only to realise that the stool hadn’t been build with his stature in mind as his head reached just about the half point of the massive height of the sitting implement, “Ah, right, here let me help you up” Lucky for him Mason had noticed his indecision and picking him up and sat him on the stool, and lifted the seat so that he could put his clawed three fingered graspers on the table, and thus the newfound friend made itself comfortable on the oversized cushioned stool, and then once happy with his tail placement, started to make his case. “oh Thank you kind sir, allow me to introduce myself, i am Vamis of the Ekrimins, my people admire the meritocratic society of the terran, and i work on this installation not only to earn my living but to learn such magnificent and complex system, as such i was keen of earning one such ‘performance bonus’ for myself, it would be my honour to partake in such tradition, so as my better, and knowledgeable expert in your ways, could you teach me how to earn a bonus? ” with a pleading look Vamis finished his tear jerking case, finishing it with a pleading look to the terran, Glymether cringed, Humans had an almost trademark weakness for so called cute things and the Ekrimin was the textbook definition of the human ideal of cute. The mannerism of the reptile spoke of one of those stiff honour cultures, with nobles and such, likely one that had grown attached to industrialism and productivity once they met the greater galactic community, it was unsurprising that he would look up to the humans, after all human managers (the good ones) could pry a productive worker out of the most weak willed and lazy prick… Mason being perhaps a living proof of that…
“Certainly a little guy! Let your unc help you out! Tell me, what’s your role in the team?” Mason asked, captivated by the request. “I am but a humble crane operator,” Vamis answered. The realisation hit Mason hard, the person he was talking to, his colleague, was in fact an adult, not only that he was the guy that ran the massive Zero G tug that would carry them and whatever gear they carried back and forth, and not only that as it would also catch any mineral liberated from whatever asteroid by the mining team, but also, and perhaps most important of all, catch any miner or prospector that got untethered and risked floating away into the void. Mason swallowed hard, he had been saved by C.R.A.N.E.s a couple times and owed his life to the unseen operators, whom he had only ever talked, and thanked, over comms. Glymether noticed the terran’s expression stiffening his eyes becoming more serious and seating stance becoming straighter, Mason focused on whatever he was going to say, overcoming the gentle buzz that his drink had given him. If there ever was a time to give shitty advice this was NOT it.
“I see…” mason answered, his voice slightly deeper than before “i am a Prospector, that means that my job is to skim the surface and depths, of whatever asteroid, to identity any deposit, and notify the mining teams, placing a flare and beacon so that miners like him..” Mason pointed at Glymether with a thumb “... can mine out the relevant chunk, and throw it in the void, Where you crane bois catch it, you follow?” he asked with a serious tone “Y-Yes mister!” Vamis stuttered, catched off guard by the sudden shift in tone the conversation had taken
“I don’t ‘mine’ out anything terran i-” once more Glymether was cut off by the terran “you detonate explosives, ranging from a stick of dynamite all the way to repurposed nuclear warheads, to fragment the target asteroid along its geological seams for the sake of sectioning fragmenting and liberating resources, so the C.R.A.N.E operators can gather em up” The sudden surge of knowledge and professionalism from the terran startled Glymether, and even a few heads, snouts and antennae swiveled to face the unusual sight of Mason, corporate dumbass, turn serious worker.
Vamis was ecstatic, happy that he had asked the right person, and wondered out loud “how do you know so much Mister?” to which Mason seemed to regain a bit of his usual self, as he answered with half a grin “well not to brag but I paid attention during training, and beside”... he added, serious once more “who do you think finds those seams? And who do you think turns into mist if they don't pay attention to where these rock-heads place their charges?” he finished nodding towards Glymether, who was absolutely dumbfounded
The Terran wasn’t an idiot? Impossible, he was always just barely getting his bonuses, terrible tastes in drinks and the worst manners and jokes ever, it was impossible… Glymether shuddered at the thought, …was the terran… competent? The thought was unbearable, was this annoying fool just a good worker, no! He must have friends in high places, after all terrans would favour their own kin right? No, impossible… Glymether had personally checked the records when the mining team’s job had grown as a consequence of a new prospector, three days ago … Mason was in fact finding more deposits, no number were being spoofed, and the manager… an anatomically impossible shiver runned through the molten body of the Sileothon. This shift’s manager was an absolute dictator, an iron maiden as her fellow humans had named her. The Dressing downs she would give to bad employees were dreaded by all, even the largest death-worlders predator species would shrink before her fury, and slackers were severely punished… Zyloq had yet to recover… the poor sod…
Glymether focused back and noticed the two, teacher and student, hunched on a napkin that Vamis was using to take notes, scribbling with a salvaged transparent plastic pen that was absolutely shredded. It was a miracle it even worked, wasn’t it on the floor before?. Mason was holding Vami’s left shoulder with his left hand, and pointing at the scrappy notes with his right hand. “No no no, you keep the net ALWAYS OPEN, but the cargo bay CLOSED, like your life depends on it because it does, and well… your salary too-” the terran went on and on with safety instructions and tricks to not waste time and efforts, as the small Vamis, struggled to follow and note everything down on his Note-Napkin, as it progressively became more ink than napkin, teary eyed at the slight regret in asking a human for help, nodding and agreeing as his mentor spoke “y-yes i u-understand s-sir” “good, then write that down.. Oh and remember not to work TOO hard, the efficiency bonus is calculated on the shift’s average, you get diminishing returns if you bring that up yourself and make it harder to beat…” at that some other started listening in as a slug like alien was obviously listening in with both eye stalks, and as a much larger reptilian eyed the scene sceptically.
“Goog, good, remember what C.R.A.N.E. stands for: Celestial Retrieval and Navigation Engine… and i think that’s all…” Glymether was stunned, or rather shocked, the terran was competent, and despite his… well… way of being, he was quite sound of mind and advice, maybe the terran deserved to be reconsidered…
“Oh, thank you! Thank you, good sir!” Vamis exclaimed, clutching the almost fully inked note-napkin to his chest. It was damp from the large teardrops that had formed—partly from happiness, and partly from the pressure of the lecture—all welling up in his big, round black eyes.
“Aww you cutie, come on big guy, i have money to spend. Let me offer you something to drink to calm you down! Don’t worry you’ll earn your bonus soon enough” At that Mason’s reputation rose, as to offer a drink was a universally agreed upon sign of good will, and as he fished a menu seemingly out of nowhere, a few of the more grizzled spacers nodded in agreement.
Vamis was Ecstatic and wiped away his tears as he skimmed the drinks part of the menu, careful to skip the almost comically long section of ethanol based poisonous drinks that humans seemingly engorged themself upon. “You terrans seem to consume a great number of brews…” Vamis commented warily not to anger his new found mentor. “Yes he does, you should have seen him after his first bonus, we were worried he might croak” Glymether commented, surprising Mason, as he had yet to hear the stuck up rock slime even remotely partake in a fun conversation, let alone make a playful jab like that “oh no no, i aint doing THAT again, last time i did it, boss lady had my ass for it” mason grimaced, and Glymether cringed, Vamis however was unbothered, as he had yet to meet the dreadful manager, and gave a questioning look to Mason, who deflected by nudging him to pick a drink.
Running a claw along the ‘an-hal culiks’ section of the menu, he picked one at random, hoping for the best. “I will try this... kahw-fhee... yes!” he exclaimed. “How bad could it be?” he whispered.
Mason chuckled. “Well, you did mention wanting to work harder... here, try this,” he said, pointing to a drink at the bottom of the list, suspiciously marked with a warning symbol.
“Mowssther energy...” Vamis read aloud, trusting his mentor’s judgment.