Space transport has become commonplace now with countless worlds and galaxies now being only hours or days away. You are (can be whatever you want from mercenaries to police) and therefore have your own ship and crew. Unfortunately you recently lost your only engineer, so head over to the 'cheap Labour' market. It's actually called the 'Help those without work' market. The clerk there tells you about a fantastic engineer that would cost you a few hundred credits. "Come on out, Querl," The clerk calls and after a few moments I walk out. (I'm Querl, 17, I have lime green skin with three mechanical holes on my forehead in the shape of an inverted triangle. I'm about 4'11. My eyeballs being a soft purple with my irises being a shining violet. I have sholder length blond hair and wear a purple jumpsuit with black insignia all over it. I have a grey belt around my waist with a silver, oval shaped belt buckle. Around my neck, I have what looks like a high tech dog collar)

Stan: ((Bio- Stanley (or Stan), Age: 20, Height: 7'2, Gender: Male, Sexuality: Bisexual, Appearance: Thick-black-rimmed glasses, dark almost black eyes, very lanky & thin, pale, shaggy brown hair and side-burns. Wears: Mostly button-up collar shirts & dark jeans with blucher shoes. Leather gun holster hangs around his waist. He's bipolar, over-protective, almost possessive, and easily jealous.)) Pausing in his thought, he stopped to take in the proposed person for the job. "I've...heard you know your way around an engine room," He greeted, offering his hand and regretting it. Stan felt bad enough around people a foot or so smaller than himself, doing his best not to loom over the alien girl. "Do you have much experience?"

Querl: The person in-front of him showed no fear or particular botherance with the much larger man. He merely looked up, his eyes shining brightly as he scanned the man's face, words appearing in his brain as he took in every detail of the other. To the untrained observer, this would look like that Querl was staring at him. In-fact, Querl was analyzing him and making mental notes about the individual. After about a minute, he replied, "Yes." His voice was soft, but certain.

Stan: Stanley stood, uncertain, as the alien seemed to measure him up with those violet eyes. A shudder ran down his spine at the look, not sure what to make of it. Glancing back between the clerk and potential new engineer, he crossed his arms, thoughtful. "Well, as long as you know what you're doing," The man shrugged, running his gaze up the alien's form, "I need a new engineer as soon as she's able," He turned his eyes to the clerk, adjusting his spectacles.

Querl: About to retort about the man's assumption being wrong, Querl was stopped as the clerk lifted his hand and said, "Five hundred credits and you can have the Coulon annoyance." Querl gave the clerk a dirty look for a few moments, before looking back at Stanley, his eyes continuing to gaze at him. Querl wanted to leave and leave now. The 'help those without work' market was terrible. He was essentially a slave now, his life being traded like a sack of potatoes. Fortunately, the person buying him seemed to only want his experience and intellect. Not what the rest of his potential buyers wanted.

Stan: Stan raised a brow and tore his eyes from the alien's gaze, thumbing his holster thoughtfully. It wasn't a terrible fee, to have a new engineer for the foreseeable future but...he also promised to bring back food that wasn't out of a can. Turning on his heel, he folded his hands over the clerk's desk, face a mask. "I'll give you no more than 400 credits for her," He spoke, voice like poisoned honey.

Querl: "Done," The clerk replied with a grin, arm extended and hand open, ready to accept the credits. He honestly would've accepted 200 credits for the green boy. Querl gave an approving nod to the yet still unintroduced man. Now, he would have a master that would bring him away from this place and into the great unknown.

Stan: Well, that would set him back until the next job, but nothing to be concerned over. Nodding curtly, he begrudgingly passed over the currency. "Anything specific I should know about her?" Stan inquired, although his gaze did not meet the clerks, mores entranced by those intense purple eyes. Turning away from the clerk completely, the man smoothed his shirt. It was hard to keep his monotone composure, questions about the little alien buzzed around his cranium relentlessly.

Querl: "Yeah, the little shit's always trying to escape. So, keep this on you at all times," The Clerk responded, pulling out what looked like a remote with a dial on it. "He annoys you, just press the button. He keeps annoying you, turn up the current. He gets over 300m's from you and..." The Clerk began before smiling slightly, "Better leave it to the imagination." Returning the credit chit, the Clerk looked back at Querl, a sick smile on his lips. Glaring at his captor, Querl's eyes widened when he heard the other's next sentence: "Perhaps a demonstration?" Without warning, he pressed the button. Querl looked like he was having a fit, his legs and arms shaking like a branch in the wind. Falling to the ground, he let out uncivilized gurgling sounds, his whole body continuing to spasm.,

Stan: Stan met the clerk's comment with clenched jaws, gracefully returning the credit device to one of his many pockets. A stone of unease settled in the pit of his stomach, frowning deeply as he went on about what amounted to torture techniques. "Why would I-" He stopped mid question, frozen in place as his new engineer fell to the harsh floor in convulsions. Shaking himself of his stupor, he gripped the clerk by his shoulder, using none of his well-practiced delicacy he'd developed dealing with smaller people. "I don't think that will be necessary, thank you," He uttered gutturally, "I don't need to lose a second engineer in a row," Snatching the device from his hands, nonetheless, he pressed the button with a sigh of relief.

Querl: The Clerk only glared at the taller man, obviously annoyed at having his fun taken away from him. "Fine, take him and leave." And he would have to take him. The green boy continued to gently spasm on the floor, after shocks from the punishment. They were less violent than before, but they still kept the younger one from standing, managing to only let out soft pants rather than squeals of pain. Through the aftershock, he unsteadily put a hand out, it extending and contracting quite violently as he tried (failed) to crawl across the floor towards the captain.

Stan: "Thank you, sir," He snarled, no gratitude in his voice. "Him?.." Stan paused, slowly turning towards the shaking alien- alien boy, not that it made a difference to him, his cheeks flushed at his mistake. Striding towards the boy, he crouched slowly, "It's alright, don't worry," He murmured, unfeeling face replaced with one of sympathy. Carefully, Stan took the alien by the waist, cradling him in his arms. Giving the clerk one last look of distaste, made his way out of the man's area. "Well," He let out a breath he had not know he was holding, heart thumping with adrenaline. "that was interesting," the man tried to joke, his bespectacled gaze more focused on the alien in his arms than his destination.

Querl: The small alien accepted the assistance, not that he could've refused if he wanted. Being cradled was a little bit demeaning to a 12th level intellect, but so was writhing on the floor so he chose to let it slide. He also chose to rest his head in the other's chest, his body continuing to spasm ever few seconds, the three metal holes on his forehead being painfully hot thanks to the collar. It didn't bother him though: He could deal with pain. Feeling that he should speak now, the alien said, "Th-Ank you," a his whole body pressing itself against him suddenly in the middle of 'thank'.

Stan: Focusing on the streets ahead of him, he was acutely aware of every quiver that came from his arms. Stan couldn't help gently combing his fingers through the boy's blonde hair, frowning deeply at the image of that clerk in his head. Jolted from his angry thoughts, he stopped to glance down, brows knit as the alien spammed. "Don't worry about it," He hushed, glancing about the ship ports rapidly. "I had promised my crew some fresh produce, but that will have to wait,"

Querl: "unaccept-Able. We can g-O get the requir-Ed produce, the spa-Sms will stop shortly," The young alien declared, every few words going through a small spasm which seemed to get less and less powerful as they continued. Querl didn't mind his hair being felt through. It was a sign of caring, much like a father would do for a son or an owner to it's pet. It may be utterly demeaning, but decency was little consequence to him now. After a few more spasms, it began to seem as if that it was over. "It would appear that the after effects are over...You can set me down now," he responded, an almost unnoticeable green blush over his cheeks.

Stan: Any counter-argument he might have come up with died, as the alien's convulsing slowly subsided. He could always just call the ship when they were ready, as that had been the plan all along. Wary of the boy collapsing in his weak state, Stan hesitantly relinquished his grip, crouching to be more on his level. "Are you sure?" He disputed, arching a brow, "I don't mind if you're not feeling able,"

Querl: "As of this moment I am feeling able. I am not some imbecilic teen, I am aware of my strengths, weaknesses and my condition. I don't require your assistance at this time," Querl responded, folding his arms over his chest, not wanting the others pity. Looking into his eyes with his own violet ones he muttered, "The food stalls are east of here, shall we go?"

Stan: Stan paused, taken aback by the boy's sudden sternness. "I'm...sorry, for making you feel that way," Gazing into his purple eyes for only a moment more, he stooped to his full height. Reviewing his previous actions, Stan noted he had been treating the boy rather...demandingly. It left a bitter taste. Turning words in his mouth and finding nothing but how foolish he felt, the tall man nodded simply. "Lead the way, then," He shrugged, returning his hands to his pockets.

Querl: "It was acceptable at the time. I was in a paralysed state which facilitated you holding me; but as I am in optimal condition, I no longer need you to hold me," Querl revised his previous sentence, trying to get Stan to understand that he was thankful for the assistance but he didn't need it now. Now doing as his captain ordered, he moved his legs towards the food stalls, his own stomach letting out a small grumble as it wanted to be with something that wasn't air. .

Stan: "You're a curious little thing," He mumbled to the air, tracing both the alien's footsteps and form as they went along. Stan's face grew vague, taking in the surroundings as they passed by. So many questions he'd like to ask, important things, little things. It wouldn't be fair to bombard the boy so soon with his inquires, but…"Querl, right?" He exhaled slowly, running a hand though his shaggy hair. "What kind of foods do you like? We don't always have a lot, but I like to get my crew things they enjoy, despite that," Stan chuckled, uncertainty underlining his tone.

Querl: "I require basic nourishment. The enjoyment of what I digest is irrelevant. However, I have noted that the pork product: Ham, is full of sodium hydrate, which I require to function," The young alien responded, his stance changing slightly so that his hands were behind his back, his movements coming off more of a march than a walk. "For consuming, I also require alcohol. Although pure alcohol is more efficiently absorbed, I am able to function with contaminated samples: the earthen Vodka, Whiskey etcetera." Querl raised his eyes from the stalls in-front of him, to the human beside him, "I am Querl. I rember telling you that, so I am uncertain as to what you meant that question to ascertain. If it was to start conversing; it would be easier to think of me as a computer."

Stan: The man listened intently to the little alien list off his requirements, staring holes in his feet as he walked, folding his arms in a similar manor behind himself with a small smile. "Well, I'll add those to the list," He noted, pulling out a small handheld device from his pants pocket. "I don't mean to overstep, but..." He sighed, rolling his neck until it popped, "Is that how you feel- or how you've been treated?" Stan questioned directly, locking his own dark eyes with the boy. He hadn't had any experience, really, with anyone like this boy. Perhaps he was just being close-minded, but the little things he had picked up on in their short time together made him wonder. How could anyone be content with life used like a tool?

Querl: "You are questioning the nature vs nurture of my species then? All of my kind are similar in my inflections and manner. We act with intelligence and use feelings when necessary or, alternatively, when it is unstoppable," I respond, my eyes looking right into yours, not an ounce of doubt in them. "However, if you require me to personify a human or one like them, I will 'do my best'."

Stan: "I suppose," Stan nodded, face contorted, "I don't mean to offend. I can't say I've had much experience with...anyone like you, really," He fumbled with his words, hands planted like trees in his pockets as he shrugged. Side-glancing, he turned to the nearest vendor's booth. Fruit and vegetables stacked high like a rainbow adorned the stand, as easy a distraction as it was colorful. "I think these are blood oranges," Plucking one from the stand for inspection, a faint smile tugged the corners of his lips, "Used to make these into cakes with my mam. Long time ago,"

Querl: Letting his whole form slump slightly, he began to look less like a general about to address his men and more like a lazy teenager. "That is incredibly interesting, please tell me more," he responded in a sarcastic tone, one filled with detest and boredom. It was one of the few ways the little alien had seen the humans: Cruel, uncaring, self-focused, irrational and ill-mannered. He remained in that stance, but looked up at his new leader, trying to gauge his reaction to the personae he portrayed.

Stan: He noted the alien's change in stance, quirking a brow at the venom in his voice. "I think you misunderstood," Stewing for a minute, he placed the fruit in its original place, "I want you to do what is comfortable for you," Stan gestured to the boy, as if to accentuate his point. "You are part of my crew now- I apologize if you find that unpleasant- but I strive to make my crew happy," He crossed his arms with a small frown, stiff as his speech. "I don't know a lot about you; where you come from or how you live," Pausing, reflecting on his own thoughts, he sighed. "I am willing to learn," He huffed indignantly, like a child turned away from the playground.

Querl: Regaining his more noble stature, Querl looked up at the other quizzically, "You desire for me to be content? That is very unlike the humans I have previously encountered, as well as the information I have on your species. This is a trait I am curious about...I accept your attempts to illicit a positive emotional response from me, so I may study this trait," he responded, with a nod of his head, but reverted to his usual deadpan voice. .

Stan: "Good to hear," Chuckling, he propped his glasses up, as they had a habit of slipping over time. "First order of business," Stan all but declared, index finger extended to the sky, "mind helping me pick out some produce? There's quite a bit here I'm not familiar with yet," He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. He couldn't say the environment around this planet was the friendliest, yet, it was nice not sticking out above the crowds like a sore thumb. "I really do know how to make that cake, though. If you'd care to try it, I know Naen will want some anyways,"

Querl: "I am unaware of how your 'cake' will interact with my biochemistry. Before I 'try it', I will require a sample so that I can ascertain if it will be poisonous to me and my species," Querl responded, continuing to follow the human through the produce market. "Considering your limited knowledge of my species, are you aware of our denser muscle fibres? To use an analogy, I am like one of your earthen Ants, able to lift and hold objects which are, at most, thrice the weight of me."

Stan: "I honestly hadn't thought about that," Blinking slowly, the realization of how different this boy was from himself and his crew rolled by slowly. It would be a most humorless tragedy- death by cake. "I've never worried about food disagreeing with me," Shrugging, he glanced about the vendors, "Get that from my Mam, I suppose," He stopped short down the path of rambling, not knowing where to put his hands. Exchanging goods with a merchant, he marked a few items off of the list, and stored the produce away in a sling bag. "That's a good thing. Helps if anyone gets heavy-handed with you, huh?"

Querl: "I had suspected that, your species does tend to assume that all other species can survive on your produce," Querl muttered, looking around at the stalls. "I have heard that humans do tend to gain some moral and mental attributes from their paternal figures. It would make sense for you to get it from, your 'mam'." Looking back at the human, he wondered what kind of crew would follow him and what they do. At the moment, he had way to many questions about his new owner. "I'm assuming that means if someone were to try and assault me? As you can see, from my current predicament, it did not."

Stan: Stan hummed thoughtfully, a frown tugging at his face. Opening his mouth, he thought better of it. If he was to pry into touchy topics...Well, he'd let his curiosity wait until he was sure his new engineer was settled in on the ship. "If its any consolation..." Brows knit as he thought over his next words, "I can assure you that's something you wont have to worry about again. We take care of our own," He breathed quietly, looking down at the alien with a soft intensity. Changing topic quickly, he glanced anywhere that wasn't him. Spotting a booth full of meats, he pointing in the direction of a slab of ham, "We have plenty of alcohol on board, but will that do for your meat?"

Querl: "That must be this, comradery that I have heard about. The one for all and all for one motto. However, as you clearly notice, I am not one of your own and considering your knowledge of other species diet, I must therefore conclude that you have an all human crew, am I correct?" Querl asked, still looking up at him. The odd look in his eyes that the human gave him, made him blush softly, unsure as to what the expression entailed. Looking away, he noticed the booth of meats that the other pointed to, "Yes, that will do adequately."

Stan: "Actually, no. Small ship, small crew, but not human," An amused half-smile crept onto his lips, eyes laughing, "I'm the only one who comes close to an actual human. They're...interesting people," He mused, exchanging various meats for a few credits each, giving the merchant a polite smile as he left. "But you'll be meeting them shortly," Stowing them away, he smoothed down his shirt, looking over what amounted to a grocery list. "Hm...unless there's anything that catches you eye, that's about it," Nodding curtly to himself, he put away the device.

Querl: "Negative, what you purchased for me is more than adequate. However, you have intrigued me, I request to see your ship and your crew," Querl responded as he put his hand out and easily took the bag of groceries from him. "Unless, you need more produce, I would prefer to leave here soon."

Stan: "Alright, let's go to the docks and-" He paused as the bag was taken from him, staring down at the boy quizzically, "I'm fine carrying a scrap of groceries, but thank you," Stan gently took the bag back, quirking a brow with a small pleasant smile. "I'll go ahead and hail the ship. It should be there by the time we get back to the ship ports," Turning on his heel, the man whipped out the small communications device, speaking into it like a microphone. "Hey, Zoroe, we're ready when you are,"

Querl: Looking at the communication device that the other had, he waited until the instructions were ordered, before pointing at it. "Do you have a spare communication device similar to that? If so, could I have one?" Querl inquired, looking up at the human with his still neutral face, but his eyes showed off how much he wanted the device. In respect to the grocery debacle, he said, "You have the remote, this collar cannot be removed, so therefore I am yours."

Stan: Stan paused in putting the device away, squinting as he thought it over. "Here, hold onto mine. You'll have one of your own, but it's on the ship," Shrugging briefly, he offered it to the boy, palm open. His face glazed over, unable to hide his frown, avoiding the alien's vivid eyes. "I...we'll try to fix that," Shifting uncomfortably, he sighed heavily. "Let's just get you acquainted with everything for now,"

Querl: Receiving the device, Querl immediately broke it in two, ripping out the wires and microchips that it contained. Putting the plastic coating in his pocket, he followed Stan, his hand moving about with the pieces in his hand, eventually, stopping with the important chip having three wires connected to it. Not looking up at the other, he put the microchip into the centre of his triangle, using his other hands to put the three wires into the holes.

Stan: The initial shock passed quickly, and chuckle bubbled up from his throat. "Well, I guess that one's yours now," Stan glanced back at him often as they walked, watching with a morbid curiosity as he fiddled with the communicator's innards. "What're you up to there?" He inquired, purposely slowing his pace to walk beside Querl.

Querl: Closing his eyes, the chip abruptly split into three before being pulled by the wires, disappearing into the holes. Opening his eyes, there was a single line of blue in both of his irises. "I have absorbed the necessary components of your device, so that I can use it without needing it."

Stan: "Useful trick," Stan concluded, not sure of what else to say. Glancing up at the gloomy sky- a lot about this place seemed to scream despair, really- he spotted a small, distinctive shape. "That'll be them," Hesitating, he turned to the boy, taking a knee. "Ever rode "piggyback"?" He asked, although something told him otherwise. "It'll be much faster. No offence intended, but I don't want you to get left behind if we have to hurry," There was a certain amount of humor, to him, in the idea, but it would eliminate the need for him to walk slowly as well.

Querl: Looking at the kneeling human, he shook his head before getting onto him, wrapping his legs around the other's thorax and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I suggest we go now then. Do you wish for me to make contact with your crew as you move?" he inquired, resting his chin on Stan's neck, his eyes looking forwards.

Stan: Stan rose slowly, securing his arms underneath the alien's legs gingerly. Trekking down the streets, he cast a look back towards the boy. "Hm...alert them when we're close to the ship?" It wasn't much of an order, moreso a request. "You can say hello to Zoroe, if you like," He suggested, laughter in his tone. The ship's pilot was much less...intense than their resident navigator.

Querl: Closing his eyes, a message was sent to Stan's ship. "We are close to the ship. I have been told to say, hello to Zoroe, so hello Zoroe." Querl sent, not physically speaking out loud when he sent the message, allowing for them to contact him back.

Stan: The woman took a moment before addressing the boy, speaking into her head set as the landed the ship. "Hello. We've successfully landed at dock 039, waiting your arrival," She relayed, voice deep and rolling. "Who might you be, aunna'll?" Zoroe questioned casually, leaning back in her console seat.

Querl: "I am Querl Dox, slave to the captain of your ship," Querl responded back before opening his eyes, "They are in dock 039," he declared out now, looking around his current position, a little frazzled by his different location now.

Stan: "Slave!?" The pilot interjected, baritone voice rising octave in alarm, "Please tell the Captain I would like to speak to him once you arrive," She growled, turning off her headset and pushing herself out of her chair. ~ Stan walked briskly, using his long legs to his advantage. "Alright, we should be there shortly," He assured the alien boy, angling his head to give him what he hoped was a comforting smile.

Querl: "Your pilot has told me that she wishes to converse with you on our arrival. The tone to which she gave it, was not reassuring in the least," Querl stated, not once looking over at him, his eyes constantly forward. "However, may I ask what engine your ship has? I can find out later, bay knowing it now could give me longer to find out how to improve it."

Stan: "Oh, dear," He exhaled, mentally running his hand down his face. "Zoroe is a wonderful lady, and an even better pilot...but she can be hot tempered," Stan said aloud, letting an agitated chuckle slip. Whatever she was mad about, he'd probably take the brunt of it. Shaking the feeling of impending doom, he thought quickly. "Well, it's a Steam Wing model; STW-226. Not sure how much that helps, but," The man stopped in front of an off-silver vessel, setting on three landing legs. It was overall longer than tall, windows lining the front. "Well, there it is," Stan dropped to a crouch, allowing the boy to get down.

Querl: Jumping off of Stan, Querl looked up at the ship before nodding, "Yes, the engine is a J-345 mark 2, I can easily improve upon it, now let us go in." Walking past Stan, he moved towards the door of the ship and closed his eyes. "Open the door, we are ready to enter," he sent to the ship communication ststion

Stan: Following behind slowly, Stan was not anxious to meet with his angry pilot. The bay doors slid open with a hiss, pulling up slowly. "Well, there's not much, but it's cozy. This is just the bay area anyways," He stepped past the entryway, pressing a button to the side as the were both inside. Closing just as they opened, he gave the boy a change to look around the storage room. Various metal stairs led up to the living areas, the second level of the ship. Before he could utter another word, a woman in her late twenties stormed down the stairs, golden eyes traced on the taller of the two. Her skin was as red as blood, talloned hands furled into fists. "A slave!? I thought you were out to get a new engineer, not a PET!" She roared, causing the pale man to cringe. "Zoroe, please, don't make such a fuss. If you would give me a moment-"

Querl: Querl remained standing beside Stan, his eyes scanning over the woman, "I am not a pet, although Stan now legally owns me, I am neither a low intelligence creature or to be put in a cage. I am both his slave and am an engineer, knowledable about pre-FTL ships up to the Steam Wing Model: Jerq. So, Zoroe, I would suggest you either argue with me about the terminology or allow your captain to show me to the engine room..." He explained, moving in-front of his new slave-owner, his eyes piercing into her eyes.

Stan: Zoroe halted in her assault of the man, mouth open and pointing a claw accusingly at Stan. Heat practically radiated from her core, and she crossed her arms with a huff. "I'll be in the console room then...sorry," She grumbled, alto voice quiet. Turning sharply, she sauntered back up the metal stairs, frowning deeply. "I'm...making cake tonight!" Stan shouted after her, fumbling with his words. Sighing, he dragged a hand down his face, peeking through his fingers at Querl with a fake smile. "Welcome home," He lamented, motioning for the boy to follow.

Querl: "I suspect from your smile, that doing what I just did was not to your liking? Would you have preferred for me to be quiet?" Querl queried, looking up at him with head tilt. Following Stan, he continues to look at him, "And yes, I only require to know where the engine room is, the food hall is and your sleeping room."

Stan: "It's nothing you did, don't worry," He offered a more genuine expression, leading him down to the engine room first. "It takes some doing for everyone to get along, sometimes..." Stan commented, shrugging his shoulders dismissively. The room was small, but kept tidy, at least. "Honestly, I think she's mad that I didn't go after our last engineer. She wanted to leave, so she left," Stan explained with lips pursed, he sat on the small set of stairs before the room's door. The engine sat in the middle of the room, thick wires running along the floor like boa constrictors. "You'll have your own quarters, silly," He quirked a brow, head in hand.

Querl: Looking at the engine room and then at the engine itself, Querl nodded slightly before walking towards it, "That won't be necessary, sleeping in your quarters is adequate. However, if you require intercourse, I require at least 12 hours of advanced notice," he said as if he were talking about the weather, moving around the engine as he scanned over it, occasionally poking at a few bits and pieces.