Challenge #01719-D258: Near Lethal Combination
Finally, almost thirty-five minutes into their wait and seventeen minutes into [Responsible Authority Figure]'s scolding ([RAF's best friend, Shit-Stirrer] kept track; the record was thirty-four minutes, twenty-seven seconds, which [Shit-Stirrer] was ashamed to admit was on account of [much-less-responsible person RAF is mentoring in the ways of fighting both physical and magical, often compared to an excitable puppy] and masochistically determined to beat)... -- RecklessPrudence
If enthusiasm was light, Paxifraxx would be a pulsar. Deadly when aimed in the right direction, and possibly also a little bit dim. Hir species was new to the Galactic Alliance and determined to catch up on everything that Society had to offer.
Trailing along on a series of exchange programs, Paxifraxx threw hir whole self into everything ze did. And this month, it was Security. "Why is Ambassador busking? Planet poor?"
Officer Lyr Marken looked. Oh crap. "That's Shayde. She does that for fun. Do yourself a favour and stay away from her." Of course, warnings like that were casually ignored so that Paxifraxx could ask the cogniscent in question why ze was warned about them. D'oh! Lyr sighed and sent a warning ping to Sherlock. She would hear all about this later. Possibly at a court-martial.
So of flakking course they became Instant BFF's.
That was then. This is now.
Shayde and Paxifraxx sat peaceably by the veet door as Rael lectured them. He, too, had had his close encounter with Paxifraxx and had to lecture hir about something else. Finally, almost thirty-five minutes into their wait and seventeen minutes into Rael's scolding, (Shayde kept track; the record was thirty-four minutes, which Shayde was ashamed to admit was on account of Paxifraxx, and masochistically determined to beat) the door to the veet opened to reveal none other than Sherlock and five upper-tier Administrators.
"Aw shite," muttered Shayde to Paxifraxx, "We're in it now. Cry."
"Tears are not mitigating circumstances," growled Rael, "Nor are cute-eyes[1], smoulders, or any attempts at levity."
"Well, tha's me fooked. You can always say ye fell in'tae bad company. I'm a known instigator and bad influence."
Translated: Throw me under the bus, I'm used to it, thought Rael. "We'd charge you with being a public menace, but we need the cell space."
Sherlock sighed, lined up the Administrators so that they could take recordings, and began the questioning with, "Ambassador Shayde. What the living flakk were you playing at, other than 'silly buggers'?"
[1]: Cute is relative and not just limited to baby animals. This is more of a catch-all term.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / AtelierSommerland]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me.
Send me a prompt [12 remaining prompts!]