Challenge #02602-G045: The Motivation Solution

What are you doing?
No, don't jump down here!
WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS??? -- Anon Guest

Here's the thing with having Humans on your ship. Sometimes they are young Humans and don't always know the rules of proper behaviour. It is difficult to know which Humans are capable and which are... less... capable until such time as they reveal their limits. Humans are a relatively unknown species and those taking the risks of their company on the Edge are more or less on their own. This is merely a compilation of what we have learned...

Humans like a challenge... The new ships' Humans were about the same size as the average Thoqnath, at least at the port where they signed on as security guards. They had amenably compatible omnivorous diets. And they apparently had an arboreal ancestry, since they loved to climb... everywhere.

Their limbs were too long and their feet the wrong shape for Thoqnath hop-rungs, so they used literally everything else, including the sides of the maintenance tubes, to get up or down between decks. They also made use of air vent passages or just took their joy from getting somewhere awkward to be.

Syr was tasked with making sure they didn't accidentally destroy something. Which ze was sure needed a full-time staff. The only time the Humans weren't getting into something was the time that they were sound asleep. This one was six sidu[1] off of solid decking and apparently snacking on something, since crumbs were trickling down to the floor.

"What are you doing up there Human Gar?"

Human Gar untangled themselves from their current knot, and readied to spring.

"No, don't jump down here!"

Human Gar was already in motion, swinging between beams like a true descendant of apes and bouncing between surfaces before landing and rolling to a stop before Syr. "It's my stash," they explained. "Gotta hide things from Lar." Who was the other Human aboard and some form of sibling.

That was, more or less, one question answered and, given Syr's now uninterrupted view of Human Gar, another question. "Where are your pants?"

Human Gar seemed to think about this whilst checking their environment. "We're at home? Don't need 'em at home?"

They were wearing Human-acceptable minimum wear, which was not the ubiquitous and far more protective Ships' Skins. Obviously, something had to be explained to these barbarians[2]. "This is not minimum acceptable wear outside of your personal quarters. We have given you species-specific Skins and sockassins to wear when you are off duty. Please wear those."

"But... this is home? We're at home?"

Of course. The understanding barrier. "Your home is defined as your personal quarters. The entire ship is not your home."

"But... this is home now?"

Obviously Syr needed another tack. "What is the favourite that you -ah- stash?"

"Carmel cookies?"

The high-sugar confections that both Humans Gar and Lar prized. "I shall reward you for every day you wear Skins outside of your personal quarters," ze decided. "One carmel cookie per day."

Human Gar's face opened to show far too many teeth. A Human display of delight, according to the manuals in progress. "Does today count?"

"Please," said Syr.

Human Gar moved quicker than previously believed possible. A dark beige streak in Human-style cotton underpants. They arrived mere minutes later in Skins, sockassins, and with an open hand. "Gimmie cookie!"

Some things were easier than others, it seemed.

[1] Standard Distance Units == SDU == sidu. Human lingual tricks spread further and faster than the Humans themselves.

[2] Barbarism is, of course, relative. The Huns, universally acceptable as barbarians across all known Human Cultures, had a complex communication system that allowed messages, people, and goods to cross possibly the widest continental body on Earth.

[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / tpzijl]

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