Book 7. Chapter 8: H is for humans
“Aaron, can you take this call? My break’s up in a moment and I want to stretch my wings.”
The light on Grelin’s console was blinking yellow for a comms request. Aaron looked over it and saw the destination address. “A xeno tradepost request?”
“Yep. It’s the Valorant.” Grelin confirmed, giving a light flap on his perch. “That's gonna be a long one so can’t take it without it running into my break. And I’m not missing my break.”
Aaron understood. The Valorant was right in the middle of greyroamer territory and greyroamers weren’t great at long-distance communication. There were good odds it’s an Odin on the other side but it was a gamble and Aaron didn’t know any Odin out in the field around the Valorant right now. Neither military nor for trade. So the odds were further down. And if Grelin gambled wrong, then he’d be stuck for the next hour slowly getting the message through.
Which meant he’d miss his break, and that would quickly become everyone's problem.
“All right, get me some lunch while you’re out. I’m feeling like lintbugs today, the fat squishy ones.” Aaron said, plying the most he could out of the arrangement. Greyroamers weren’t that bad to talk to, he was a level 2 and had all species languages learned to a fluent degree.
The Odin puffed up again, “Oi you brat, trying to weedle things out of me now? Who taught you everything you know? Respect your seniors.”
Aaron gave a mirrored dark chuckle back as his talons slowly pressed down the right buttons to take the call. “Taught me everything including how to haggle. Bugs or I hop off this stool right now and go back to my station.”
The other Odin sighed, flipped his beak high up and dove downwards where he flapped onto the ground with a few hops. Which meant he’d agreed, but would probably eat one or two bugs while he brought the food back.