Chapter 3: Would You Like Cheese With That?
Planet Turo, 2215 hours:
"I want you, Experiment six-two-five, to cook a sandwich for everyone in this entire room!"
There was silence after the Grand Councilwoman gave her challenge. All conversations between the various Council members, who had previously been chatting which each other about the experiment, the trial, or their favourite fast food outlet, simply died out. All their focus was now on 625.
And he did not look pleased.
"Did you just say that you want me… to make a sandwich for everyone here? In this here hall?" He pointed wildly, "But that's thousands of sandwiches!"
"That is the point," the Grand Councilwoman replied, "If you are indeed the best sandwich maker in the galaxy, then this should not be a problem to you at all. So then, prove to the Council that Dr. Jumba is telling the truth." Her face turned dark, "Both you and Jumba's fate are now in your hands, experiment six-two-five."
625's jaw dropped as he realised his predicament. "Wait a sec! You never said that I would be sentenced as well! This trial is rigged! I call foul, this is baloney!" he cried, flinging his arms up.
Gantu gave a smug smile back. "Well, we chose not to mention it until now." He laughed at the tide turning against the experiment, "Serves you right for your arrogance, trog."
"Come on, fellas, have sympathy on me!" 625 jumped up to the podium stand, grabbing the microphone to address the Council ambassadors. "Hey, anyone here-oof!" His impromptu appeal was cut short as Gantu grabbed him by the cuff of his neck, dragging him away from the stand.
"Hey, ouch, ouch! You're gonna tear the fur from my body!" he yelled in pain, continuing to struggle against Gantu's iron grip. "Put me down right this instant!"
"As you wish," Gantu let go of his hold on 625 and watched him hit the ground bum-first with a snicker. Seeing 625's glare, he whistled, pretending to look innocent. "You never said how you wanted to be put down, you little abomination."
"Gantu, please refrain yourself." The Grand Councilwoman rolled her eyes at the captain's childish antics.
On the ground, 625 winced from the fall, rubbing a sore spot on his tail. What in the world had he gotten himself into? On a scale from one to ten, this day was ranking pretty bad in his books already.
Then again, that wasn't a fair comparison. Today literally was the only day that 625 knew since it was the day he was born.
Or rather, made.
A loud and consistent clinking noise startled him from unconsciousness.
Just what in the world was making that ruckus? Couldn't he get a good rest?
As he opened his eyelids, blackness dissolved into orange. He gazed around, realising that the reason there was so much orange around him was because he was suspended in some form of liquid. He blinked rapidly as the liquid started to choke his nostrils.
"Aha! It is waking up!" a shrill voice tingling with excitement.
Great, now he was never going to get back to sleep. The figure who was talking continued to repeatedly tapping the glass, causing the annoying clinking noise he had heard earlier. Resigned that he could no longer laze around, he let curiosity overtook him. Using his arms to paddle around, he turned around to the source of the voice.
"Ah! You are now conscious. Hm, brain activity is at ninety percent utilisation, lower limbs in retracted position... yes, very good. Now then, you are being Jumba's experiment number six-two-five! Turn around, my little one..."
Jumba? He assumed that that was the name of the person who was towering over him. He had to admit, he was a little scared. Jumba was very huge compared to his relatively tiny size, and due to the refraction of the liquid, Jumba's four eyes appeared extremely large and imposing from his point of view.
"Six-two-five, can you understand what Jumba is saying to you? If you are being able to understand, nod your head to acknowledge."
He mentally slapped himself. He was wondering why Jumba was randomly shouting out numbers. Turned out Jumba was acknowledging him all along.
625 was his name. Eh, could have been worse. Seems like a decent name at least.
Understanding the request, the newly named 625 slowly nodded his head. As he did so, Jumba's smile grew wider, "Very good, cognitive functions already in place. My genius has paid off once again, for your thought process is like supercomputer!" Jumba held up a remote in his arm, pushing it. "I do not think you be needing life fluid support anymore."
He saw the orange around him lowering, no longer tinting his vision. After the liquid was completely drained, the chamber slid open. He immediately jumped off to the floor and shook himself vigorously, trying to get as much of the vile liquid off his fur as possible. As a shadow fell upon him, he looked up to see Jumba approach him.
"Now, to be introducing myself, six-two-five! I am your wonderful creator, Dr. Jumba Jookiba!" he began to boast.
625 snorted a little. Hadn't Jumba already told him his name earlier when he was stuck in that stupid liquid?
"My evil geniusness has allowed me to create six hundred and twenty four other genetic experiments before you, each and every last one of them with their unique and destructive capabilities designed to cause absolute chaos across galaxies! From shape shifter to Snootonium enricher, I have made it all!" Seeing 625's interested face, he continued, "Ohohohoh, I know what you're wondering, six-two-five! Just what is exactly your dastardly mission in life?"
He nodded with enthusiasm. He couldn't wait to find out just what his creator had in store for him!
"Well..." Jumba's expression instantly turned from pride to one of regret. "I must admit, due to innate lazy behaviour in your programming, your designated function is that of well, sandwich maker."
His excitement died down. He tilted his head, looking up into his creator's eyes, only to realise that Jumba wasn't pulling his leg. Sandwich maker, for real? That was a rather lame function to have. He couldn't help but blurt out his thoughts, "What, that's it? Nothing cool?"
"Brilliant! Your English is being perfect! It was imperative that Jumba not botch that up. You see, I do not program speech in all experiments. Some do not speak, some just make noises, others only speak in Tantalog, but you are one of the lucky ones because..." Jumba trailed off.
"Because…?" he questioned.
"Let's just say there is reason why I programmed you with advanced English capabilities, six-two-five."
"Why?"
"Not to be telling you." Jumba dodged the question.
"Why not?"
"It's a secret!" he hissed.
"Come on..." 625 persuaded.
"Hey, do you know that today is your birthday?"
"Of course I do!" He was beginning to lose patience. "Don't change the topic, Jumba!"
"Feisty one, aren't you?"
"And why don't I get a cool power?!"
"Psssh, you are being very ungrateful, six-two-five! That said..." Jumba's voice broke as though he was reminiscing something, "One day you will either thank or curse the fact that I gave you this primary function." As a clueless 625 pondered the cryptic statement, Jumba leaned closer and spoke the next sentence to the experiment in what was almost a whisper.
"I can only hope that when that day finally comes, you make the choice to be thanking Jumba, my little experiment..."
"So as I was saying, if you fail this, the entire Galactic Council will sentence you and your creator on behalf of the United Galactic Federation."
625 tuned out the Grand Councilwoman's speech as he remembered Jumba's words. He still didn't understand what Jumba had been driving at when he had said that, because right now he was despising his primary function pretty hard. He couldn't help it. Right now he was literally being forced to make sandwiches for the very first time. When his creator was arrested, he was immediately stuffed into a heavy duty glass container by that grumpy Gantu. He never had the chance to make his own sandwich, to check if Jumba was right, that he really was a successful sandwich making experiment. Sure he trusted Jumba, to the point where he challenge Gantu earlier when he insulted his sandwich making skills, but actually being put on the spot like this was terrifying to him.
He remembered asking Jumba earlier if any experiment had not done its intended function after he was informed he was a sandwich maker. He then chortled, recalling Jumba giving him an example turned rant about Experiment 177 destroying his creator's hair as the response to his query.
But yes, on occasion one of Jumba's other experiments would not turn out as planned, which usually ended in dehydration. He shook in nervousness, putting his hand to his face in despair. What if he was a failure like 177? "What do I do?! I've never made a sandwich in my short life. What if I have some flaw? If I fail this, we're both done for..."
He was interrupted from his brooding as a guard dropped a toaster in front of him.
"I radioed my men earlier. They went grocery shopping like you asked, ma'am." Gantu told the Grand Councilwoman. He then spoke the next sentence in a whisper, "The invoice was a bomb. Can't wait to see 'sandwich ingredients' on the balance sheet. The Federation's Finance division is gonna throw a fit," he finished sarcastically.
"Just add it to the budget, it'll be worth it," she whispered back. "Guards, give six-two-five all the ingredients he requires," she ordered, glancing at the sacks of bread, cheese, and spreads with mild intrigue.
The Grand Councilwoman locked eyes with 625. "The challenge begins. Are you ready to prove yourself?"
As the Grand Councilwoman finished, Jumba started to laugh out loud. "Ahahahah! To make thousands of sandwiches? That is a worthy challenge for my experiment!"
"Excuse me?" the Grand Councilwoman questioned. This was not the reaction she had expected from Jumba at all. She had anticipated panic, dread, or defeat from the scientist. But instead, as she looked at him, Jumba was standing confidently on his stand, smiling as though he had all the cards. Why was he so confident?
"Six-two-five, be remembering that you are sandwich maker! Jumba have full trust in your abilities. Do be making all of them a sandwich, glorious like egg salad and mayonnaise!"
Something about what Jumba said called out to the downcast 625. Egg salad and mayo?
Yes, he could do this. What was he afraid of? He was made for this job! Gaining confidence, he reached out for a knife and a spreader, his mouth slowly turning upwards to a grin. "Alrighty, ya got it, lady! A whole bunch of sandwiches, coming right up!"
Planet Turo, 2348 hours:
For the past hour, the Council had been watching 625 making sandwiches.
He was like a machine, multitasking between multiple different recipes at once. On one end, eggs and bacon were being fried, on another, sandwiches were toasted or baked. The smell of finished sandwiches grew more and more fragrant as time went by, and by the end, many of their mouths were watering.
"Whew! I'm dead beat, but that should be all of them!" 625 called out, admiring his handiwork. "Help yourselves, but no second helpings!" he added.
Just as many of the Council began to tuck in, they were interrupted by a loud yell.
"No! Don't eat that! It's poisoned!"
"Oh come on, Captain Gantu, don't be a spoilsport," a Council member mumbled.
"You idiots! I bet the little trog poisoned it! Now then," Gantu approached 625, "I think that this abomination here—"
"Are you ever gonna call me six-two-five?"
"Quiet! As I was saying, I think the abomination should be the first to eat the food. A food taster, to make sure he croaks…"—he hastily backtracked his words—"I mean, prove it's not poisoned."
"Suit yourself. Your loss," 625 replied, reaching for the nearest sandwich he could get his paws on. As he bit down on it, his face lit up. "Hey thanks, Blubby! I love this peanut butter combo!" he taunted Gantu in the midst of gobbling his food.
As if on cue, the rest of the Council began chewing on their own sandwiches. Many of them followed 625's lead and started scoffing it down after tasting it.
The Grand Councilwoman couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her own challenge had been beaten. He'd managed to make a sandwich from everyone in the room in what was little more than an hour. Taking a bite out of her own sandwich, she realised her gamble had backfired. Experiment 625 really was made by Jumba to be the best sandwich maker in the galaxy.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Trying to sound as neutral as possible, she confessed, "I admit that I was wrong, Dr. Jumba. Your experiment-mhm-is really made to be a sandwich maker."
"See, Jumba told you that experiment is best sandwich maker in galaxy! Now, is there anyone here who disagrees with me?"
"Me, me!" Gantu raised his arm.
"Gantu, you blasted your sandwich with a plasma blast," the Grand Councilwoman snorted.
But besides Gantu, the lack of a proper objection by any other Council member told everyone what they needed to know.
"Well," she continued, "I am glad to see that all of us are enjoying our impromptu supper, but I am afraid we must adjourn the trial due to time. I was hoping for an easy prosecution victory, but it appears now that that shall not be the case."
"Oh, really?" Jumba sounded excited. Twiddling his thumbs, he asked, "Does that mean I can leave now?"
"No!" Gantu answered. "You'll be placed in a holding cell at Turian prison."
"What? A holding cell? Jumba already said that I am lead scientist of Galaxy Defence Industries! I need to be doing work or else company goes under!"
"Who cares about Galaxy Defence Industries?!" yelled Gantu, before being poked in the shoulder by the Grand Councilwoman.
"Gantu, that company is the Federation's main supplier of military goods."
"Oh, blitznak."
"Jumba thinking," he started, "Perhaps you can release me on bail until the trial resumes."
She considered the option, weighing its advantages and disadvantages. "Very well then. Dr. Jumba, the bond payable for bail will be three hundred thousand Turian dollars."
"Paahhh, I refuse to be paying that ridiculous sum of money."
"Really?" the Grand Councilwoman questioned. Jumba really was insane. Which prospective defendant would turn down a bail offer? "Then just what do you propose to counteroffer as the bond?"
"Why, who else but my experiment, six-two-five!"
Said experiment, who had been munching on his peanut butter sandwich, immediately choked on his food and starting coughing when he heard his creator's bargain.
"After all, six-two-five is one of a kind, priceless! Jumba would not dare jump bail if it means losing six-two-five!"
"Hey, I object to this! Jumba, don't leave me here!" 625 cried out. After making so many sandwiches, he was too tired to think of a better appeal.
"Shush, six-two-five, it is only temporarily," Jumba reassured. "Plus, he can be cooking you all the sandwiches that you can eat while in holding cell."
That settled the debate for the jury.
"We, the jury, accept the terms and conditions of the bail. As long as the Grand Councilwoman agrees, you shall be released on bail until the trial resumes next month."
"Very well then," the Grand Councilwoman glowered at Jumba. "Release Dr. Jumba Jookiba on bail until the next meeting date and take experiment six-two-five to the Turian holding cell bay. For the rest of my Council ambassadors, I understand that it is now almost midnight, much later compared to our usual end time. As such, I would like to thank you all for your patience. This trial is now officially adjourned until the next Council meeting. That is all."
As the Council members took their leave and Gantu led a group of armed guards to escort the still whining experiment away, the Grand Councilwoman remained at her position, lingering her gaze on Jumba. "This isn't over," she thought, before turning around and walking off.
How had everything gone so wrong? Walking down the hallway, the Grand Councilwoman made a mental note to never listen to Gantu's advice so hastily the next time.
But how could she have not instantly believed him?
When Gantu had told her the charges for the convict, she had assured herself that it would be an easy trial. She had most definitely not expected Dr. Jumba's illegal genetic experiment to gain approval from the Council. Why couldn't six-two-five have been a pure destructive monster? She had banked on Jumba's genetic experiment being... a bit more unrefined. Never would she have thought that it could behave like a real intelligent life form, to the point where he managed to garner pity from the Council. Alas, her folly had its repercussions, there was no way she could easily convict Jumba now. This whole thing, meant to be a simple trial to instantly convict the scientist, would now turn into a debate of massive proportions about the ethics and sanctuary of artificial life after six-two-five's cooking display. With the new subjective views added, the trial would only get much more complicated in the future.
But in spite of the odds, she resolved that she will not lose this. For the sake of the Federation, she would just have to play her trump card. The Grand Councilwoman strutted into the transmission room, with her staff all saluting upon her arrival. While in the presence of others, she changed her face to that of confidence. She couldn't let the Council see her true state of mind. She didn't want them to know that she had lost effective control of the trial earlier.
"Put me through to him," she ordered a reptilian alien next to her.
"Right away, ma'am!"
She took a seat waiting for the connection to get through, her eyes remaining fixed on the large fifty inch monitor to her front. As the screen faded in from static, she saw a white gerbil-like creature come into view. "Hello." he spoke in a thick accent. "What brings someone of your patheti-I mean... wonderful calibre to my attention today?"
"I would like to request something of you, Dr. Hamsterveal."
"It's Hamsterviel!" the gerbil screamed, dropping his earlier cool facade. "Hamsterviel, Dr. Jacques von Hamsterviel! Get the name right, you pointy-collared fool!"
"Whatever," the Grand Councilwoman tried her best to keep a straight face at his insult. She couldn't afford for Hamsterviel to get angry and back out of her offer. "Since you were the one who made the report," she continued, "I would like for you to testify as a witness against Dr. Jumba next month."
"And why would you need me to testify? The trial should already be over! Isn't that idiot scientist already in prison after my tip-off?!"
"Unfortunately the Council was unprepared," she sighed at her own mistake. "Due to lack of circumstantial evidence and time, the trial has been adjourned. Jumba is currently out on bail, released temporarily from the Galactic Federation's custody."
"Wha... Jumba is on bail? Why isn't he locked up on a prison asteroid, you incompetent buffoons?!" Hamsterveil started jumping furiously, his agitated face covering the screen, "Your stinking Galactic Council had one job, one job! You just had to arrest him so that I could get..." Hamsterviel suddenly coughed, stopping his rant. Looking sheepish for his outburst, he resumed speaking at a much softer and subdued tone. "I mean... I will be glad to be of your assistance."
"As I was saying, the trial has been adjourned until next month due to lack of sufficient evidence. In fact, the way things are currently going, Jumba might actually be acquitted..."
"What?!" Hamsterviel almost screamed. "How?!"
"That is not my matter to speak. However, if you were to attend as a key witness at the next Council meeting, then the Council might change its mind." Her face turned firm, "You will attend, correct? You do want Jumba to be found guilty, do you not?"
Hamsterviel put his arm to his mouth, deep in thought. "You want me to appear before the Galactic Council?" Making up his mind, he drew his cape across his body, laughing maniacally. "Mwahahahaha! Well then, I accept your proposal. Mark my words! For I, Dr. Jacques von Hamsterviel, will be there at Planet Turo next month to prove Jumba guilty!"
"Excellent," she folded her arms, "Thank you and goodbye, Dr. Hamsterveal."
"It's Hamsterviel!"
As she ended the transmission, the Grand Councilwoman allowed herself a smile. She had been tempted to use her authority to declare a mistrial since she could claim that the jury would be biased after 625's sandwich buffet, but now she was glad she hadn't. It would not have looked good on her to replace the jury, and now that she had the original whistleblower by her side, she didn't need to. 625's scrumptious sandwiches might have swayed the Galactic Council this time, but it would not be able to get both him and Jumba acquitted when the trial resumed. As long as she had Hamsterviel as a prosecution witness, she would be able to prove to the same Council jury who had adored the experiment today that in truth, Dr. Jumba had some sinister intent when he had created Experiment 625. Satisfied, she walked out of the transmission room, confident that the trial would go in her favour when it resumed the following month.
Unbeknownst to her, elsewhere in the galaxy, the one on the other end of the video call had his own plans.
Once he saw that the Grand Councilwoman was off the line, Hamsterviel dropped his smirk and began to fret. He had been smart enough to accept her offer since declining would have made her suspicious, but there was one major problem with being called to the stand...
"I can't go to Planet Turo! It will be a death sentence to my evil genius career!" he paced about his ship with fright evident on his face. "If I attend that stupid trial next month, Jumba can prove that I funded all of his experiments during the cross-examination! Once that lying, double-crossing scientist fibs me out, I'll be arrested by proxy!" He slammed his fist down at the very thought, "The great Dr. Hamsterviel cannot be thrown in prison! Who would take over this stinking galaxy if I am imprisoned?!"
He stopped his pacing with grim determination on his face. Getting into the cockpit seat, he yelled out, "Computer! Set a course to Galaxy Defence Industries!"
"Course set," a computerised voice spoke, "Calculating approximate arrival time to destination."
"Stupid Grand Councilwoman! She and her dumb Council were supposed to make sure Jumba was out of my way!" he muttered. "No matter, I can still salvage this plan. I was going to wait and continue acting like a goody-two-shoe until the time was right, but now thanks to those Council idiots, I have to act immediately!" Hamsterviel sat back as his ship's hyperdrive charged up. He had committed to his plan by making the move of selling out Jumba. Even though things were now going slightly wrong, he had no choice but to follow it through to the end.
Jumba not being in custody made virtually no difference to Hamsterviel. It would just be a minor hiccup, for the end result would still be the same. He couldn't resist an evil smirk. It would not be long before the entire Galactic Federation learns the true meaning of fear.
All of Jumba's experiments would soon be his. All his!
Author's Note:
I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hoped you enjoyed reading it too.
We also meet the big bad (actually more like tiny bad) Dr. Hamsterviel. Hamsterviel is someone that I see tend to be rather one-dimensionally characterised in L&S fics. With few exceptions, he's either this smug and feared big bad in charge of an army of Leroy clones that does his bidding... or an overconfident snivelling coward that literally no one, human or experiment, takes seriously in the slightest unless the situation turns dire. I hope that my take on Hamsterviel would be a mix between the two extremes, definitely a threat, but a goofy threat nevertheless—obviously he is still somewhat of a genius after all, but I will admit there is some joy in him screaming "HAMster, not gerbil".
P.A.W.07: I'm so sorry! By the time I saw your review, I had posted Chapter 2, so I'll reply here. I will be taking this fic places, so no, this wouldn't just be a mere retread of the first Lilo & Stitch movie with just added Reuben and co., nope nope!