Work Text:
The sound of chiming music draws the crew to the labs.
Millburn is sitting on one of the tables, shoulders curved, thumbs dancing along the metal bits protruding from the piece of wood in his hands. His stupid alien snake is coiled up in front of him, hood rounded out, body swaying gently to the music. His eyes are on her, bright even though his face is neutral. He starts to quicken the music, twists into a new melody, shoulders pushing back the faster and more complicated he makes it.
The hammerpede is vibrating with it, seeps into looser coils, flares her hood out completely. Her mouth opens, reveals her fangs, gives a strange little cooing sound, and Millburn grins like Janek remembers doing when his son said his first words. Fifield is the only other that understands, thinks about his pups, about how long it took him to get them just right, make them as living as he could with the AI at his disposal. How proud he was the first time they glowed, the feeling he gets in his chest when he hears them whine.
They start to drift away but Fifield stays, leans against the wall. He feels himself starting to warm up to the thing -Snow White or Senorita Slithers or whatever Biology is calling it this week- if only because it makes his bunkmate happy, and he is, mouth stretched wide now, eyes crinkled up.
Millburn slows the music gradually, lets it spin away, sets his kalimba aside to stroke his fingertips down the hammerpede’s back.
“If she doesn’t get along with the pups she’s staying in the lab.”