Senjen made a quite intentional point of rolling his eyes. “Oh, don’t give us that. It’s your day, Light, we should do what you want.”

Restless as he was, Senjen did not stay seated for long. He pushed himself up off the ground and started to circle around the table on all-fours. “Today is huge. Think about it: how much have you had to pay for these treatments? I mean, I know the FGC gives good discounts, and they’ve let us pay for it with labor, but now you’re going to start getting paid directly for all that work. Mark my words, we’re going to start climbing higher now.”

Jess chuckled. “That mean you’ll finally get those upgrades you won’t shut up about?”

Senjen had a sly expression as he avoided eye contact. “Oh, that is tempting. But I might have to look for a new supplier first. That last actuator you sold me is still sticking.” He said, emphasizing his point by rotating his arm, which jerked slightly in a few positions.

“Actuator’s fine.” Jess answered with rather absolute confidence. “That one governs the full range of joint motion, but it only sticks on external rotation. Intermittent, too...could be corrosion on the connector for the infraspinatus.”

“That again? I’m telling you my diagnostics comes back clean for any internal corrosion.”

“And I’m telling you your thoracic sensors have been shot for the past six months. Shouldn’t have waited a whole month to deal with that faulty seal.” Jess snapped back.

Senjen did not stop pacing around the table. “I didn’t have the money, but I kept it covered. It only acted up after I got the replacement, but it’s fine. I know you can’t guarantee every used part you sell…”

Jess slapped her hands down on the table. “That’s it, not going to get slandered here. Lay down, I’m opening you up.”

“Ah, come on, just because…” Senjen could hardly start to get his words out before Jess grabbed him to pull him over to the table. While she did have some enhancements under the skin, she still did not have the strength to move him unwillingly, but despite his outward objections, he was still cooperating. He laid back on the table between them all, and while she moved over to his right side, she grabbed a multitool out of her pack. Senjen’s chestplate was intended to be removable for maintenance, though it required him to disengage some internal locks for it to be easy. Once she got to work, though, she was through the latches in seconds before she tossed the plate aside.

Strictly speaking, a Utaysi was supposed to go to a low-power, minimal-activity state before submitting to internal maintenance, much like being sedated for surgery. Not only were there sensitive electronics that were safer to work around while unpowered, but the internal mechanics and powerful artificial muscles could take off a hand if one was careless. However, neither of the two particularly cared for safety concerns.

A Utaysi frame was a mix of electronics, traditional mechanical parts, and artificial muscle depending on what was most optimal for the task. Even with Jess leaned over the opening, the others could catch glimpses of the complex web of machinery, tubes, and wiring. It seemed incomprehensible to the uninitiated, but Jess seemed to be navigating it all by touch at the moment. She did not bother going for anything else because she knew just what she was going for.

After a minute or so, Senjen’s right arm went entirely limp. “The hell you doing in there? You losing your touch, Jess? I can’t move my arm.”

“Because I disconnected it, dumbass. Give me a minute…” Jess had her arm squeezed in between some of the artificial muscles that controlled the shoulder joint. In that position, an errant arm extension could end up crushing her bones to dust, and it seemed she was not insane enough to take that risk, at least. Though, her fingers were cautiously tracing the wiring to an entirely different system at the moment. “Ah...got you.” She muttered to herself.

Senjen laughed. “Oh I’m sure. It will be great when we go through this whole ‘open-heart surgery’ just to-” His voice cut out abruptly and completely, despite his mouth continuing to move. She had reached up and disconnected his vocal cords.

“Nowww I can work in peace.” Jess smirked, to which Senjen could only return a cross expression.

It took just a few minutes longer for Jess to do what she needed. She retrieved an attachment for her multitool and used it to do something to the internals of his shoulder. Normally, that sort of work would require removing the arm to work from the other side of the socket, as she could not actually see what she was doing. However, she was especially familiar with Senjen’s frame in particular, as she had worked on nearly every part of it over the years. She was operating purely on touch and memory at the moment.

As soon as she was done, Jess reactivated the arm, then went straight to replacing the chestplate. Senjen grabbed a hold of it with the opposite arm and growled. He was still capable of that, at least.

Jess stared him down in silence for a few seconds, keeping an impressively straight face. “Fine. I suppose we can suffer your voice today. She reached in up towards the throat and reconnected the vocal cords before closing him up.

“Finally, now when it sticks again, does that mean my next part is free, or do I get a replacement?” Senjen began, but quite predictably, it was rather immediate that he was proven wrong. He went through several external rotations of the joint, each one just as smooth as the last.

Jess walked around above Senjen’s head so she could look straight down at him. “Like I said, there was corrosion on the connectors to some of the muscles. The signal was intermittent.” With the handle of her multitool, she smacked the top of his head, sending a clang echoing through the room. “Now you can stop crying about it.”

Senjen laid his head back, staring straight up at the low ceiling for a few, silent moments. “The horticulture tournament sounds fun.”

Light stopped demolishing the poor cake for a moment to ponder Senjen’s statement. His mouthparts pursed mid-gulp, giving the QV a goofy, dumbfounded look in ensemble with his bulging eyes.

“I suppose It's been so long I’ve just…adapted. But yes, it has been hard to manage on FGC alms. Sorry Ruk.” Light shot a look at the Tekeri, who sat calmly and ramrod straight. She shrugged nonchalantly.

Light returned to his cake as Jess & Senjen sparred, smartly moving it out of the way of the Utaysi’s body as he slammed into the table. When he finally finished breaking apart the last layer and gobbling it down he met eyes with Ruknar again. She raised both ‘hand’ and contorted the three claws on each into a particular shape that Light recognised.

She’d first made it almost two years ago. Light was not long out of emergency surgery to rebuild his broken body after a vicious gun battle and car chase had taken their toll. He’d spent four fraught days immersed in a specialised intensive care vat. The gel inside could work wonders over time, but his internal bleeding was so serious that he had to be be operated on immediately. A journeyman QV surgeon was tracked down and brought in to do the job, assisted by a synthetic intelligence.

When his life was no longer hanging in the balance and a long road of recovery wended ahead, Light was transferred to a specialist QV ward managed by the For Good Cause Foundation. They were a Tekeri non-profit medical aid and technology organisation that worked in some of the most impoverished and dangerous places in the galaxy. Apparently, Korit qualified as both of those things.

Ruknar was one of the junior doctors assigned to Light’s ward. On her first day there, she surveyed him in his vat from the corridor. He was struggling weakly against the robotic arms that were trying to feed him fronds of a sea kelp. It was a well-known delicacy for QV and had been widely cultivated. His skin shades were all over the place, flashing the colours of the very sick and confused.

“Stop! He wants crustaceans, not kelp. Get him some shellfish.” Ruknar ordered.

“How can you tell?” The synth monitoring his room asked her.

“You see how the cilia structure on his anterior appendage doubles back on itself…in an ‘S’ shape? Thats how they hold shellfish to crack them against rocks. He can’t communicate normally, so he’s mimicking how he’d hold one. Like a child would.”

Rukner watched Light greedily eat the crustacean flesh gently scooped into his flaccid mouthparts, talons crossed in front of her. When Light was done, she noticed his head move and eyes strain to look at her. Ripples of calming blue crossed his scarred hide. The Tekeri held her hands up and recreated the S-grip as best she could, pressing it against the gel. Light did the same.

“It doesn’t cost much to enter, and there is a prize for the winner.” Ruknar paraphrased from the invitation.

“There is no chance. People win contests for a living on Korit.” Light huffed dismissively.

“Then we can watch them at work instead? Or…” Ruk was querying her AI assistant for other events in the area.

“There’s a solidarity benefit festival in Kwe-Lungo park to…protest the Vermilion Consortium’s depreciation of cross-species support within the Ecumene project.” She paraphrased, before looking seriously at people’s reactions. Light looked blankly back at her.

Senjen sat up on the table, looking up at Ruknar. “I think, uh, we should do something a bit more ‘upbeat’ today. Of course, we’re not going to do much of anything sitting around here…

Standing back up to his feet, Senjen took a few idle steps towards the door as he thought, then turned back to face the others. I say we go to the contest, take a look, maybe get a feel for if it’s anything interesting. If not...we can walk around, go wherever the wind takes us. There will be something to catch our eyes, I’m sure.”

---

Senjen was not one to dwell too long on thought and planning, so it was probably no surprise when he wanted to head out and see where the day took them. And to be fair, saying there was “plenty” to do in downtown Setia would be quite the understatement. Korit as a whole was a planet of unrestricted commerce and leisure alike, and the city was no exception. The city was planned to make it quite easy for its many potential customers to find places to spend their money. While generally a rare statement to make about Korit, public transportation in its major cities was the envy of most modern cities in the known galaxy. Outside of areas like the slums, it was quite easy to navigate, and even the automated taxi service they used to get around was government-funded, and free to use. There were other, “official” reasons for the state to be so seemingly magnanimous, but there was little question to the fact it was an investment for greater revenue.

The first time Senjen had seen the city, outside of a hospital, had been awe-inspiring for him. He had spent all his life on his homeworld, and while crowds were nothing new for Utaysi, the sheer diversity on display in any direction one looked. Most worlds in the galaxy were dominated by the species which settled them, with tourists, and especially alien immigrants, being the exception. Korit was something special, and for all its many flaws, that was still the part of it which Senjen loved the most. Older cities like Setia still had more Tekeri influence than anything else, but one could still see buildings with entirely different species’ architectural styles right next to one another.

The group had landed on the uppermost layer, on a street near the center of the city close to Kwe-Lungo park. He had a guess that this might have been one one of both his and Rukner’s favorite places in the city. Unlike most of the lower layers, it received natural light, and it was the largest park in the city. It was tended to by the oldest horticultural society on the planet, and combined complementary flora from over a dozen planets. There was one winding path, somewhat out-of-the-way, that was set between two tall rows of trees that was intentionally filled with the most hostile looking flora they could find, like vines appeared to have sharp thorns longer than a Tekeri’s claw. Most came from different worlds, but they all had two things in common. First, the hazards were only superficial. That vine’s “thorns” were actually flower buds that appeared to be hard and dangerous when not in bloom. Second was that, around the start of the wet season, they would all bloom at once into a vibrant display beautiful enough to draw visitors down even such a long and winding path. Senjen was pretty sure it was an art piece.

Senjen still did not particularly want to attend the protest, but it was happening on the other side of the park from the contest. As they walked alongside the park, Senjen gave Rukner a pat on the back. “Where exactly is that contest? We can go there, or go for a bite to eat first if we have time...or just go for a picnic in the park.”

Ruknar pointed with one hand, the other clasping the strap of a red knapsack slung on her back.

“In there.” Across a wide expanse of exotic meadow, nestled in the middle of a copse of trees lay a huge shrub some two hundred metres wide and thirty high. Its leaves shone a dark purple that verged on black, contrasting with delicate white flowers.

“The ground underneath is artificially fertilised to allow hyper growth.” She continued, eyes rolled back slightly to access her neural lace.

“I don’t know… It looks prickly, kinda dangerous. Perhaps we should eat?” Light was still wearing his conical party hat and coil blower.

“Come on…I’ll protect you from the big bad plant.” Ruk teased, squeezing what equated to the QV’s cheek in a playful gesture. The squeal of megaphones and increased pulse of music wafting from across the park drew her gaze.

“If not, I’ll have to drag you into the mosh pit instead.”

Light flinched at the sound, and his watery eye darted around in its casing.

Senjen gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Ah, don’t worry, it’s not real thorns. Besides, it’s not like thorns could even touch you through your suit. Or most of the rest of us.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jess grumbled.

“You’ve got those clothes, don’t they protect you?”

Jess glanced down and idly pinched the cloth of one of her sleeves between her fingers. “Eh, not really.”

Senjen tilted his head. “Seems like a wasted opportunity.” He started, though after a few moments, he simply shrugged. “Well, whatever, the thorns are fake anyway. It’s right there, so we can go take a look. If we don’t like what we see, we can always move on.”

It was not a long walk to reach the shrub Ruk had pointed out, and for a few moments, Senjen found himself distracted by it. It was a single shrub larger than some buildings, and if that was not impossible enough, it had not been here the last time he visited the park a month ago. He did not know what planet it was from, or even if it was naturally-occurring at all. The impression Tekeri gave off could sometimes be deceptive. In their culture, they often found it important to be close to nature. Forgoing modern technology and conveniences to live out in the wilderness for weeks, or even months at a time was considered a pastime for them, and there were some of them who made their entire lives out there willingly. These were a people who could build spaceships with wooden interiors, of all things, but they were still exceptionally advanced, especially in certain scientific disciplines. Biology, ecology, genetics, medicine, pretty much anything having to do with organic life were all fields where their expertise could seem impossible. The Utaysi could not even begin to compare to them. Senjen remembered reading, before he left home, how they were in talks with the Tekeri for their help in revitalizing the ecology of Orostro. The articles had seemed hopeful, though the technical details of the logistics and political concerns went over his head.

Pushing through to the interior of the shrub felt almost like leaving the city entirely. They had not brought furniture, or much of anything that seemed “artificial” for this event. The massive shrub was thick enough to block out any view of the city, but was open on top to allow in natural light and allow a view of the sky. Senjen could not even hear the sounds of the city, though he was not exactly sure what they were using to accomplish that. As expected, it seemed like the attendees were a majority Tekeri, though not exclusively.

The atmosphere inside the cavernous space was jovial, with the air of a reunion of old friends rather than a serious tournament. Light guessed the competitors were the ones wearing grey hessian robes covered in pockets that overflowed with gardening tools. Loose crowds of people gathered around them, some eating colourful vegetable produce and drinking thick broth from cut-out Namib shells. A ramshackle old hut with an open front appeared to be selling these refreshments and more.

A portly, scruffy Tekeri with some bald patches approached them holding an antiquated holopad.

“Well met. Are you looking to compete or spectate? We still have some spots available; the first round is in twenty minutes.”

On first impressions, Senjen had a feeling like stepping back in time when entering the bounds of the shrub. Or perhaps into a storybook. This little slice of nature took them out of the city completely, and brought them to somewhere he had never been before. For a few moments, he just had his eyes on the rustic shack that would not look out of place in a museum of ancient history, until one of the Tekeri approached them directly.

“I think we were looking to compete.” Senjen answered, briefly glancing to the others for confirmation. He had come to have an appreciation for nature, but he could not say he had actually done anything like this before. Ruk had sent him plenty of literature on gardening and such, and he had actually read it all, but living out of a ship in a paved-over lot, he had never actually had an opportunity to put it into practice beyond a few small “house” plants on the ship. “What are the rules like? Can we work together, or do we all work alone?” He asked.

Light’s hide flashed by way of agreement. Now they were in a more confined space, he was feeling a lot more comfortable. He hadn’t always been like that; just since waking up from his medically induced coma.

“We have a group competition track, or you can compete separately. Quadrumvir rules are in effect - so four rounds, first round is growing a companion structure based on flora introduced by one of the four…err…organic species.”

They evidently hadn’t banked on any Utaysi showing up to this event.

“Points are given for growth rate, style, form and sustainability.”

There was raucous laughter from somewhere behind the official, and they turned to check everything was alright before continuing.

“You are quite well composed for the group track, having one of every species in your group, save the Tindrel. I believe there is a single Tindrel here who was looking for a team, if you wished?”

The Tekeri’s answer gave Senjen a basic idea of what they would be doing, though he probably still would not be able to accomplish much based on that alone. He had read up on the Tekeri’s growth accelerants, and from a user’s perspective he should know what to do with them. Even hearing the categories, he had no idea how exactly they would be judged, but as long as Ruk was with them, he was reasonably sure they would do fine. She could guide them in the right direction. He did not actually like their odds of winning, but it could be fun regardless.

Senjen had not expected the Tekeri’s suggestion, and he ended up giving a glance to the others, before returning his attention with a quick laugh. “Ah, well, that’s really more of a...coincidence, than anything. Far be it from me to deny someone participation just because they can’t find a team, though. Whatever they might be, I’ll gladly help them out.”

Jess rolled her eyes, but did not argue. For anyone who knew Senjen, that would pretty much be the expected response. He was outgoing, sometimes to a fault, but that was the reason they had gotten to know each other. Jess likely would have just been their local parts dealer and mechanic if Senjen was not so curious and talkative.

“Terrific. I will pencil you in as a five, though that will of course impact your scoring…” The official did not elaborate further.

“I’ll need a quarter million Veruhn from each of you to enter the competition.” This equated to about half a day’s wages for a dockhand, so not cheap. “Current first prize is twenty five million Veruhn.”

“Eesh, steep.” Light muttered, before sending his share to Senjen. He also wasn’t feeling optimistic about winning.

“Is outside custom growing media allowed?” Ruknar asked, pulling a small bag of red soil from her red knapsack and dangling it in the other Tekeri’s face. He examined it closely, before making a small rip in the side and tasting some from the material that came out onto his talon.

“I’ll allow it, but I’ll have to charge you for repurifying the patches afterwards.”

“With any luck, I can do that out of our winnings.” The official merely chuckled and tapped his holopad.

“Best of luck. I'll send Pclendafuun your way if i can find him, then I’ll call you up when its your turn - feel free to mingle until then. Do you have a team name?”

Senjen had not even known there was a buy-in to the competition, not that he had bothered asking. Regardless, he did not hesitate to contribute his portion. Stakes would just make the competition all the more exciting. His mind started to wander on what they might end up growing and how he might try to contribute, though the official’s last question caught him momentarily off-guard. “Um…” He started, eyes darting back and forth between his friends, especially Light. “Sunlight Sowers”.

It was an off the cuff answer, but it would probably work well-enough. The official did not seem to have any more to ask, so once they left, the group had some time to themselves again. Senjen took the lead towards nothing in particular, walking around until he found a soft enough spot in the grass to sit himself down. Or rather lay down, “stretched” out on his back. His artificial muscles were not similar enough to organic ones for the concept of stretching to apply to him, but he enjoyed the feel of natural grass under the warmth of sunlight filtering in from above. “Alright, so...strategy and stuff.” He began, looking up at Ruknar. “How does this work, Ruk? What do we do; how do I help?”

“Ok…” Ruk plonked herself down on the ground nearby. She somehow had a halved shell full of liquid and a cane straw sticking out in one hand.

“The aim of the game is to grow the biggest, most impressive plant. Extra points are given for our ‘form’ while doing it - basically how controlled, or not, we look. Finally, the longer the plant is judged to be able to survive on its own following the competition, the bigger our multiplier."

The Tekeri took a giant slurp from the shell.

“The catch is that you have to do it using a companion structure. Four complimentary plants that benefit each other when grown together in certain ways. And they’re asking for each of these four plants to be native to the different sentient species here in Setia…Sorry he missed you off.” She ended sheepishly, patting Senjen.

“I don’t know many Vosher plants that grow outside of water…” Light complained, staring around at the shrub canopy all around.

“Hence my special homebrew.” Ruk shook the bag of red soil. “It will hopefully help us make a small pool of water on our patch to grow some of your kelp.”

A small Tindrel was watching Ruknar curiously from a few paces away as she spoke.

Senjen shrugged. “Eh, it’s alright. We’re still new-ish. I don’t think Orostro really exports many plants. Anyways, it’s art and execution, then? I’ve been wanting to try this; I’ve never seen that growth stuff in action before. Light here doesn’t want the ship to become a jungle. I personally think it’s better than a cave, but that’s just me. I do get a vote, but since it’s his ship, his counts for two.” He laughed.

Jess sat down slowly as the others spoke and crossed her arms. “Well, I can already see I’ll be the weak link here, if they’re judging all of us. I mean...well, actually, you said ‘companion structure’, right? Does that mean we’re going to be growing them around some kind of brace? Do we need to put that together ourselves? I don’t know about growing as much, but building something with my hands? That, I can do.”

“Maybe we do stand a better chance than I thought? I’m not sure how much experience others will have with aquatic plants like that. Though...I guess there are quite a few Tekeri that just know how to deal with any kind of flora you can imagine, and some you can’t. At least we can get some sun…” He lifted up his head, looking over Ruknar. “...does that feel nice to a naturally-nocturnal bird? Haven't actually thought about that before.”

Just beyond Ruknar, Senjen caught the eye of a Tindrel watching them. He tilted his head, gazing up at them. “Ah, are you Pclendafuun?”

“Hey! I like plants, just not how much they cost. When you’re a company director you can have a forest, ok?” Light wailed.

"We’ll need a support structure, but you’ll have to be quick on your feet. This stuff won’t hang around. Or will it?” Ruk flicked some red soil from her baggie at Jess’s face. Her beak made the most magnificent *CLICK* by way of laughter.

“There’ll be some basic click-and-go, but any scrap you have down your pants will come in useful.” The Tekeri medic was sounding unusually rambunctious right now. Perhaps it was the fact that she was back in her element after so long. She looked at Senjen when he asked her about the light.

“I have lenses in. Also I take drugs. Does it feel nice to you?”

The Tindrel jerked back when they were addressed.

“N-n-nnnnno, I mean yes. Ttttthaatt is my name. Hello.” They took a few clacks forward. Their forward leg plates were mottled yellow, stained brown at the bottom with fresh earth. Their face plate was more grey, and scored dozens of times in ritual punishment.

“I hhhheard you needed This One for your team. Hhhhere i am.”

Jess blew upwards at the dirt splotched over her nose. She hummed, but did not do anything else in response...just yet. She could take some time to think. “Very funny, you overgrown magpie. Well...if you need something built, there might actually be something for me to do in this. Actually, you know what? A hundred-fifty thousand Veruhn says I’ll build the best damn whatever-it’s-called here.”

Senjen lifted a hand and waved the Tindrel over. “Well then, feel free to pick a spot and join us.” He encouraged them. He had not gotten to know as many Tindrel, nor as closely, as other species during his time on Korit, so he could not guess as much about their guest member just on observation. Hopefully, Pclendafuun would be open to talking.

While the Tindrel had a moment to decide what to do, Senjen focused back on Ruknar. “Yeah, I say it does. Day and night has always been mostly the same to me, to be fair. It is for most Utaysi, I think. We don’t sleep, and I don’t think there is going to be any Utaysi frame not equipped to see in the dark, but I think there’s just something more vibrant about the world under sunlight, you know? Being out in nature like this, feeling the warmth on my frame, it makes me wonder if I’m feeling something close to what our creators felt when they walked Orostro? They were diurnal, and cold-blooded, so I imagine they spent a lot of time basking in the sunlight. That particular instinct didn’t transfer over to us. I don’t think Mother Marae wanted us to be longing for the sun for a thousand years while we were trapped in a bunker. Still, it’s a nice thought.”

“I decline your typical Human wager, because I know you will. Waste of money.” Ruk chocked her beak and activated the auto-straw again, draining the shell.

The Tekeri then fixed Senjen with a heavy stare which would only be possible with totally black eyes. Subtle, fast movements of her head were the only sign that she was listening closely to everything he said. Not just verbally, but via his body language and accounting for all the other disclosures he’d made. Tekeri were generally fantastic at remembering little details.

“Ahh, yes. I can see why you feel that way, but please don’t rule out the gloom. Dusk for example, is very underrated. The stars hide all but the most exquisite detailing. It unlocks the mind to paint in the blanks between shadows.

The Tindrel came and crouched down very close to Senjen. “Hello?” Light said, speculatively.

“Hhhhello. Hhhahve you competed before?”

“No, have you?”

“Yyes! Thirty four times.”

Senjen sat up, cross-legged. He gave a casual glance up towards the sky, though there was little but a few scattered clouds that could be seen during the day. “You are not wrong about that. The night sky can be a beautiful thing...when you can see it. It’s so bright here in the city, I would have to use such a long exposure just to get a glimpse of the stars. And I’d really like to see them up close too. Looking out at a star at the minimum safe distance...that has to be an experience. Or maybe a red giant, or pulsar? I’ve been in space more than a few times, but never...recreationally. I do want to go on a celestial tour, one day.”

Eventually, Pclendafuun made up their mind to approach, and seemingly investigate Senjen with how close they came. He returned a rather close stare and wondered about the marks on the face plate. It was not the first time he had seen a Tindrel like this, so was there some meaning behind them? Was it about art, symbolism, or something else entirely? The Tindrel, in turn, would get a good look at Senjen’s well-worn frame. There was a time he had a simple, sleek coat of black paint, but it was faded, chipped, and some plates did not look like they had been painted at all. They were “newer”, in a sense; replacements for damaged parts, though it was hardly as if they were new from the factory. A few plates and other visible parts looked like second-hand replacements, and some were jury-rigged just to be able to fit his body. One of his eyes was scratched along the bottom, likely from the fact that its socket was slightly misshapen from an impact and scraped against it in motion.

“Well then, you must have a lot of experience. You ever won before? What do you think about Ruk’s soil?” Senjen said, though he was quick to realize he was getting ahead of himself and gesturing to the Tekeri. “Oh, this is Ruknar. I’m Senjen.” He pointed to the other two in turn. “Into-The-Abyss-In-Search-Of-Light, and Jess.”

“I can’t say I share your enthusiasm for seeing a ball that's too bright.”Light shivered. “But now we’re out of contract with FGC…We might be able to pick up work ferrying materials to the new starshell they’re building around Trieste VI. Then we can get paid to see one rather than be ripped off by the tour operator!” He steepled a few tentacles together, pleased with his great idea.

“Not won, n-n-nnno. They d-d-don’t like the idea of t-t-t-t-This One being a ggggardener.” Pclendafuun suggested. They wore a harness with four delicate machine arms to provide fine motor ability. Draped over their thorax was a kind of pannier with many pockets.

“Hhhhello, everyone. I would n-n-n-ot be able to say for s-s-ure without a close inspection.” The Tindrel eyed up Ruk’s bag of soil curiously.

“If I give this bag to you, are you going to do the eating thing?” the Tekeri asked.

“Probably.”

“Perfect…fine. Here you go, master gardener.” Ruk chucked the bag over and Pclendafuun carefully decanted the entire thing into his mouth before chewing vigorously.

Senjen audibly scoffed. “Just a bright ball? Are you joking? Its surface has a tapestry of convection currents more mesmerizing than any mosaic, there’s coronal loops many times the size of entire planets. There’s no two ways about it: it’s magnificent. I know you’d see it if you could witness it up close.”

Senjen was not entirely sure of what Pclendafuun was meaning when they answered. He wondered who exactly this “they” was that did not want them to be a gardener. Did they mean the Tekeri? He was not sure why that would be the case, considering that the competition was open to everyone, and the event’s organizers had not given their group any trouble in joining. They seemed perfectly friendly. Was “they” someone else in the Tindrel’s life? He was not entirely sure what Tindrel on Korit did and did not respect.

As it seemed, Senjen was also not sure of something that Ruk evidently was. He looked on with a mild degree of bewilderment as Pclendafuun took the whole bag of dirt into their maw. “I, um…” He tilted his head towards Ruknar. “Don’t we, uh...need that?”

Light undulated inside his suit, colours of amusement sliding down his body.

“Perhaps this old drifter has grown jaded and senile in his old a–ah, I see.” He was regarding the Tindrel with colours of mild displeasure.

“Wait for it…” Ruk, both wings slightly raised towards Pclendafuun in anticipation.
His diminutive exoskeleton rocked with a series of powerful coughs. Small trails of slime dribbled from four vents on his undercarriage and his maw opened back up. A long and dextrous tongue-trunk. It was purple-pink with the texture of volcanic rock, sporting three prehensile folds at the end. From one of the two holes at the end, a thick red sludge poured back into the baggie.

“Well…what do you think?” Ruk asked.

“T-t-the media is of a high quality.” Pclendafuun wittered.

“Excellent! I like this one already!” The Tekeri cawed.

“I have just added some of my own minerals t-t-to the mix. It s-s-should improve waterborne performance.”

“Attention contestants!” A voice called over an crackly tannoy system.

“The first round will begin shortly. Please find your match and head to the associated patch. Thank you.”