Mortal Protection Services Chapter 25: VII.FM: Family Meal

Read chapter 25 of Mortal Protection Services by B.T.Skull on NovelPedia.

VII.FM: Family Meal Jimantha Jimsonson Jimolean Enfuckulator Station 1 "F3! Nooo...whoops. Hello there." A disheveled looking, long-haired, bearded gaian man... no, a terran man, in fine silk pajamas staggered through the portal. He looked like he'd been trying to hit the brakes chasing the robot cat and ran into the portal unintentionally. I started sprinting from the control room to the enfuckulation chamber, leaving Admiral Kim's 'observers' in my dust. Space dwarves are not noted sprinters. The terran straightened up and took in the room. A subspace enjigglerizer pointed right at his head, and a giant spider next to a humongous snail. The rest of the room contained a plethora of technology. A broad smile grew across his face as he realized he was, in fact, conducting a first contact. "Hey fellas, I don't suppose you guys understand what I'm saying? You seen any apes around that look like me?" While he talked, F3-L1-N3 started to skulk around the room, sniffing about, like cats do in a new place. The spider chittered and his translator-box spoke, "We understand you perfectly, mammal. And she's on her way, I'm sure." I skidded, breathless, into the room. In time to hear the terran say, "Hot diggity damn, you guys have some fucking fast translator technology. Don't even have to do the whole Darmok and Jelad song and dance. Not gonna lie, I'm a little bummed we don't get to this time." I tried to talk but the sprint had left me winded. I needed to get in better shape. Jimbonk said exactly what I was thinking for me, almost like we shared a base mind or something. "The Federation of Allied Planets has more than six hundred species, each with a dozen primary languages, at minimum . Add to that, most of those languages have distinct dialects out the wazoo and... well, of course we have amazing translators." "Ahh, well when you put it that way." The terran said. "It makes perfect sense." There was a flicker of blue light. A handsome looking Earth man, fit, clean shaven, sporting a military haircut, popped out of the enfuckulation event horizon. This new man basically the opposite of this doughy, bearded terran hippie in fine silk pajamas. "Dilt... Fine work you did getting the translation protocols set up, that was incredibly fast." He was wearing what appeared to me to be a military uniform. "Oh yeah, no problem. And uh... look, a girl us." This... 'Dilt' had noticed me, and clocked me for what I was immediately. "Seems like something Jim would do," the fit Earthling replied. He walked over and extended a hand. "Ingamar Ma-Ana, an anagram as a man. A pleasure to meet you." We shook hands. There was no... sudden transference of memories or techno-magical spark or anything like that. We'd have to exchange memories of the years since coming down the old fashioned way, by telling one another stories. But there was a feeling like I was meeting my long lost triplet brothers after our parents split us up at birth. I think Ingamar felt it too, because our handshake lingered a moment longer than felt normal. "I'm Jimantha Jimsonson, and this is Jimbonk and Jimelet Du Fromage. Also Jimsonsons," I introduced the room. "Ha! Jim really Jimmed you all up didn't he? I'm guessing these two are some of your fractal mind shards, made flesh. Awful kind of Jim to actually instantiate them." Ingamar was correct, and quick smart. Fit in body and mind. "Anyhow, that slovenly fellow is Dilt Bifferent." I snorted back a laugh at his name before he started defending himself. "Slovenly? I..." Dilt took a beat to calm himself before speaking. I immediately detected a big brother-little brother vibe here. "You try defending your planet from the scourge while raising a bunch of human and krethellic children together in the same household and see if you still got time for your little workouts." "Brother, you live in silk pajamas, and don't necessarily bathe daily. Besides, Terra has had a full platoon of Purifiers now for almost a year, so you ain't personally