“Over there, be careful!” Ruk pointed to a ramshackle old shed about ten metres away. The doors were thrust open and a dozen gardeners were jostling for position to rifle through piles of rusty materials inside.

Light made a noise like a saucepan bubbling over at the thought of being involved in a plot.

“Ok! But what does the Tindrel want?”

“I shall a-c-company you to ensure your protection and a satisfactory selection.” Pclendafuun squelched across the grass to his side.

“Alright, let's go!” Light patted the Tindrel’s faceplate tentatively before wobbling quickly towards a terminal. The QV’s old suit provided a gait approximate to a very intoxicated biped to blend into the flurry of activity. The Tindrel followed so close behind as to be actually touching.

“Ok Senny, I need your help to prepare this soil for a strange mixture of plants. Take some of my homebrew and mix it EVENLY into this area here. Then we need to create a basin in the middle for Light’s horrible grabber to seed from, coating it completely in the stuff Pclenda threw back up, ok?”

Ruk knelt down with an auto-trowel before recoiling as a small shower of tiny seed pods tickled her beak and clinked off Senjen’s head from above. She looked up to find a tiny drone whizzing to the next patch.

“Hey! Alright, do all that while also getting rid of those seeds!”