#spacebasic

Gromon’ltac’amanal, or “Grom” to his human crewmates, still did not really understand human behavior, but after three tours on the Arbexis Adronai  he had decided that he quite liked them. In particular, the human Gillian Daavies had professed some level of bonding with him, and while the feelings were not entirely shared (he’d read the full manual on bonding just to be sure he was understanding what was happening properly) he was fond of her, and so willing to be, in human vernacular, friends with her.  She was certainly flattering, always going on and on about how he really understood her, when no one else did, and how great it was that she could just be herself around him without having to worry about, in her words, “all that other stuff, you know?” Grom didn’t know, and doubted he ever would, but the interactions made for fascinating study on long journeys and he found the timbre of her voice to be relaxing, so he tended to go along with her schemes, just to see what they would lead to.  For instance, there had been that one trip to Federation Station Gamma 335.09, or as the humans referred to it, Station Zero, which was often the first space station humans would visit when leaving Earth for the first time. Gillian had taken Grom out “for drinks,” and come up with an idea that Grom had not understood at all, but agreed to, where they went back to the ship, Gillian removed her coverings, and Grom had helped her paint her body with a blue pigment, at which point she had put on other, far less substantial coverings of a silvery sheen and told Grom he had to refer to her as a resident of planet Esteros.  Grom had never heard of that planet, but went along with it. He did not believe himself to be good at intentional falsehoods, but several new arrivals seemed to lap it up. When they were distracted, Gillian would often wink at Grom or whisper how gullible they were, until one in particular had whispered something in her ear, and she had gone off with them, giving Grom a subtle signal to allow it.  The next morning she returned, much of the pigment rubbed off, and spent an hour in his quarters, asking him over and over again if she was a “slut.” He wasn’t familiar with the term, but her cadence and tone suggested such a thing would be bad, and so he tried to reassure her. “You are not a slut, nor a citizen of Planet Esteros. You are a healthy, functioning, fertile human woman.” “Oh, Grom, you really think so?” And then she pressed her lips against his face. She did that, sometimes, when she was inebriated and they were alone.  Other times, she would be sad, often after a long coversation with a human male she had met during leave then left when two ships went their separate ways. Grom had often tried to warn her that such liasons left her unhappy when they ended, and she NEVER listened, but would always be in his quarters again after, leaking from her vision centers and asking him why she never listened to him. Grom didn’t know. He doubted he ever would. But he was her friend, and found the timbre of her voice to pleasant, and so would welcome her back in, listen as she spoke, and be ready for her next nonsensical scheme.  Then, one day, an old crewmember, Darren, came back on board after several cycles working at one of the stations. Darren had been friends with Gillian before Grom had come on board, and Grom had wondered if he would know how Grom could be more helpful than he already was. “Come in!” Darren had called when Grom knocked, and as he walked in, Grom noted the pictures of Darren with another human male on the wall. “Your bonded?” he asked, politely. Darren glanced at the picture. “Oh, Dave. Yeah, I guess. It’ll be hard now that I’m back shipside, but I think we can make it work till we’re back together. Now what can I help you with?” “It is Gillian. You are human, and knew her well. She has been in my quarters often of late, complaining of failed relationships and putting her lips on my face. I listen, and try to advise, but it does not seem to...” Suddenly Darren was laughing so hard he could barely respirate properly. Grom, concerned, moved to help, but Darren waved him off, still chuckling hard. “Oh, so she dragged you into all that? You poor, poor soul.” “I am unbothered, but I do worry that nothing I say seems to...” “Nuh-uh.” Darren shook his head, then gave Grom a pat on the back. “I piloted that course for years and always ended up back at Jump Zero. You’re a good soul, and Gillian was my girl, but no dice. Sorry, pal, but that bitch is YOUR problem now.”