Back by request, Drothe and Jake, and some further character development in a world I made up last week. A bit short, but what the hey.
"You misheard me. What I said was 'After we deliver this, we can pick up some hot chicks', not 'we can go make ourselves sick'. Though, I suppose in your experience one leads to the other." Jake's spikey black hair was barely visible above a heavy crate he was carrying in front of him through the crowded streets of Taurus. His partner and companion, Drothe, a large, brown canon-toting alien with horns and a tail trudged along beside him carrying two identical boxes on either shoulder. Drothe looked down at his boss, who while tall for a human, was still a good foot shorter than the alien.
"Well, sometimes if you do make yourself sick, the compassionate ladies feel sorry for you and take you home and make you kanach-noodle soup and snuggle with you to keep you warm." He grinned widely. Jake just "hmphed" and got a better grip on his crate which was beginning to sag. Drothe wasn't even human and he seemed to get lucky with the homo-sapiens every other time they were in port. Even though Drothe was his only real friend in the galaxy, he surely hated the big guy sometimes.
"What is it with you? Do human women find you exotic?" He asked, genuinely curious and more than a little annoyed.
Drothe had a look of rare contemplation cross his face. "Well, you softies do outnumber the rest of us aliens about 5-1 in every civilized city...so yeah, I suppose so. Besides, the ladies like what I can do with my tail." He grinned again and moved his tail to poke Jake in the leg with it.
"Ugh, cut that out, now I know I'm not gonna sleep tonight," said Jake, wincing as he tried to banish the thoughts from his head that had unwillingly lodged themselves there. Jake was an attractive man himself, but on his days off he was usually too busy wallowing in self-misery or trying to escape from simple jobs gone badly to try and pick up women.
He also figured that Drothe's tenacity towards mating was a genetic trait of his species, but he didn't want to delve too much into it in case it wasn't.
He looked up as they passed a florescent sign with a picture of noodles. "Here we are!" he said cheerfully trying to change the subject. Drothe just grunted as he dumped his cargo in front of the door and knocked loudly three times. The door opened and a four-foot high green alien with some sort of exoskeleton stepped out, his antennae flailing madly.
"It's about time!" he squeaked madly. "You're three days late, you know! I thought I'd have to close shop! My supplies are dangerously low!" He clicked his mandibles loudly in what to Jake seemed like irritation.
"Sorry sir, we got a bit held up back in the Daedalus quadrant-" he was interrupted by more clicking.
"I'm paying you good money to get this stuff here! Most chain human transporters won't carry it!" He gently lifted up the lid with one claw, and a hairy, brown leg about two feet long quickly shot out.
"Can't imagine why," Drothe muttered. Jake elbowed him.
"Just take your money and go. But I'm docking some pay as a result of being late. Don't let it happen again!" He whistled shrilly, and two aliens that looked like miniature versions of him, except blue, came out of the building and starting pushing the crates inside. The alien handed Jake some cards which Jake swiped through his scanner he took out of his coat pocket. The amount checked out, including the docked pay (Jake was hoping he might have forgot), and Jake grimaced.
"Pleasure doing business with you sir, please call again!" He gave his fake cheery wave." The alien didn't appear to be listening and slammed the door behind him.
"Some great clientèle you pick, sir." Drothe said. He took the offered credits Jake handed to him. "See you in 8 hours." He smiled genuinely, and lumbered off in the opposite direction. Jake sighed wearily and started making his way to his favorite Taurutian bar, one that always offered plenty of physical activity.
