The way the human was staggering, I thought they were drunk. When they passed out to sleep, tests indicated they were merely severely sleep deprived. -- Anon Guest
There is one rule that covers all the space ways. Help others, for the trouble may one day be yours. In space travel, it was to always respond to a distress call. On more stable ground, the habit carried over to helping a stranger who clearly needed help.
Planetside, this meant paying attention to a Human stumbling along the darkened streets.
There was nobody else here to pay attention to them, and Marss felt the laws of the space lanes on his shoulders. So ze journeyed across the empty road between them to walk by the Human's side. Best to keep to GalSimple, just in case. "You being sick? Needing helping?"
Glazed eyes barely focussed on hir. Whatever the Human was trying to say, it was incomprehensible. They clearly needed help.
Marss searched for medical assistance in the immediate area, finding a little clinic for tourists a few streets over. Ze risked taking the Human's hand with, "Coming. Self being helping."
Mumble mumble, blurs that could have been words. But they didn't resist and managed to amble along with their eyes debatably open.
The Mediks would know what to do about whatever was wrong with the Human. Hopefully soon. Ze followed the directions and kept up some amiable chatter, just in case the Human could understand.
"I know it's silly to be worried about a Deathworlder," ze rambled, "but I do believe something has gone wrong with you. I found a clinic that might be able to help. The Mediks will be able to tell me if I really am being silly. Just one more turn and we'll be there."
Marss prattled all the way to the clinic door, but the Mediks weren't impressed by hir charge.
"Again, Mel? Really?"
Mumble mutter, slurred syllables.
"I don't care about your work ethic, you're going to make the CRC sue your boss if you keep doing this." Nevertheless, the Medik piloted Human Mel to a bed and tucked a blanket over them. "That's also bad for business."
A multi-syllable, consonantless noise.
"Yeah, you always say that," the Medik rolled his eyes. To Marss, he said, "Thanks for wrangling her. We'll eventually get her to accept the lack of deadlines. Eventually."
That was said in the same manner as someone might say, "Eventually, the last star will die and the universe will cool." And without much in the way of hope.
"That sounds like a Human in need of a Companion," said Marss. "Perhaps... Is there training?"
[Photo by Liu JiaWei on Unsplash]
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