“Delivery for CT-312”
“I didn’t order anything.”
CT-312 stood just inside the doorway, helmet angled toward the container that was currently being wheeled in by the delivery worker. It was not a small parcel… That thing was a reinforced container roughly the size of a medium weapons cache. Several bright FRAGILE decals had been slapped across the exterior.
THUD. The cart came to a halt and lowered unceremoniously onto the floor in front of her. CT-312’s visor lowered as her eyes slowly traveled across the package. “Did you order anything?” She asked quietly inside her helmet.
A collection of indignant electronic beeps immediately sounded inside her helmet. BARCA answered immediately as a short message appeared on the side of her HUD.
[ NO. ]
Another series of tones followed, sharper this time. CT-312 could almost hear the accusation behind them. “It was just a question.” She continued staring at the crate while BARCA launched into an electronic defense of itself, insisting that if it ever did purchase something without her knowledge, it would have a perfectly good reason. Several brackets materialized across the Scout’s HUD, examining the exterior to gather whatever information that BARCA could without CT-312 physically opening it.
[ NO PURCHASES DETECTED. ]
[ NO ACTIVE ORDERS. ]
[ NO RECORDED DELIVERY REQUESTS. ]
“I know.” That did little to improve CT-312’s opinion of the situation. Unexpected deliveries and packages were already suspicious. She considered whether moving the container outside and opening it remotely was excessive— a soft ping sounded through her helmet.
[ INCOMING TRANSMISSION ]
[ To: CT-312 ]
[ From: L. Raaf ]
[ Re: Your eggs. Which I owe you. I haven't forgotten. ]
CT-312’s brow rose behind the visor when the sender information appeared. Text expanded across one side of the HUD, accompanied by BARCA’s identification tag that this was connected to the delivery.
L. Raaf.
That was a name she had not expected to see again. It took a moment before the memory settled into place. The Galactic Kaggath tournament belonged to an entirely different stretch of her life now, buried beneath everything that had happened afterward. Still, CT-312 remembered Lucette Raaf . She had been one of her sponsors during the tournament, briefly making an appearance before the matches began in the Bespin Gas locker room with Viers Connory accompanying her.
Apparently somewhere during that period, eggs had entered the conversation. CT-312 reached the end of the message before her eyes moved back towards the beginning and slowly traveled through it a second time—
“Whenever you’re ready” CT-312 looked toward the delivery worker, who had been standing patiently beside the cart with a holopad and stylus extended out towards her. “I just need a signature confirming that you received the container.” A curious trill sounded inside CT-312’s helmet.
“No.”
BARCA produced two innocent chimes. Although suspicion still lingered, Lucy’s message had removed most of the concern… and curiosity of her own had steadily worked its way in. CT-312 took the stylus and signed her designation across the receipt.
“Thank you, have a good day!” The delivery worker reclaimed the stylus, turned the empty cart around, and made their way off premises. Once the door closed, she remained standing over the crate for a moment while BARCA emitted a low anticipatory sequence of chirps.
“Yes, yes.” Crouching beside the container, CT-312 released the reinforced latches one after another. Hiss. The lid lifted. Inside had layers of thick packing material surrounding four enormous eggs. Each was carefully separated from the other by padded dividers. She stared down at them. “What am I supposed to do with these?” mumbling to herself. BARCA immediately began scanning. A collection of culinary references appeared across the HUD. Ranging from worlds where similar eggs were prepared as a common meal to seasonal delicacies. Recipes followed. The situation seemed relatively straightforward. They were eggs… large eggs, but still eggs.
CT-312 slid both hands beneath the reinforced crate and began carrying it into the kitchen. A message appeared on her HUD. [ REPLY RECOMMENDED. ] She ignored it for a moment. A beep followed.
[ ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF GIFTS IS SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE. ]
“I was going to.”
[ GRATITUDE IS ALSO— ]
“I know how gifts work.” , In theory.
As she placed the crate beside the counter. CT-312 opened a transmission to Lucy, staring at the blank field before typing a brief message.
[ To: Lucy Raaf ]
[ From: CT-312 ]
[ Congratulations on your engagement. Thank you for remembering the eggs, though you did not have to go through the trouble. The extra fourth one is appreciated. Congratulations once more. ]
Send. That obligation handled, her focus returned to the considerably stranger problem in the kitchen. Finding a cookware large enough. One egg was removed carefully and set near the stove. CT-312 opened one cabinet, then another, eventually locating the largest pan available. Even that still looked questionable once it was placed on the stovetop and compared against the egg. BARCA bleeped skeptically.
“This is going to fit.” CT-312 picked up the egg in both hands, positioning it above the counter as she considered the best place to strike it. Drawing it back— something moved beneath her palms. CT-312 stopped. The egg shifted again in her palms. “...BARCA.” Her hands remained perfectly still. Crack. Before either of them can produce an explanation a quiet sound came from her hands. A thin fracture appeared on the egg. Crack. Another line branched outward.
CT-312 loosened her grip immediately and lowered the egg onto the counter. “This is not supposed to happen.” The shell kept moving. More sections broke loose, followed by another. Gloved hands moved, catching the creature in her fingers and drawing it away from the broken shell. The hatchling was covered in fine feathers with much of its little body having reptilian features. Its eyes still were closed, tiny limbs tucked awkwardly close as it adjusted. A weak little chirp escaped from it.
Cradling the creature between her hands, another series of cracks came beside her. CT-312’s helmet turned toward the open crate. These were not culinary eggs. The remaining eggs began to break open. Soon the kitchen gradually filled with uncertain chirps and tiny rasping noises. Chrrp! Rrrrp! Chirrr! CT-312 looked back back at the tiny creature she had in her hands. Its head pressed against the side of one gloved finger, “Why are you doing that?” Rubbing along the material with a soft chirrup before settling closer against her palm.
Three feathered little reptilians had somehow escaped the containers while her attention had been occupied. Two were rubbing against themselves at her boots and armored greaves. “No.” The third had discovered that the overlapping plates of the Halcyon armor made an effective climbing surface. Tiny claws scraped against the armor. “Stop.”
BARCA remained suspiciously silent the entire time. BWAH-BAWAH-BWAAAHH! The entire center of CT-312’s HUD exploded into digital confetti, text sprawled out while an obnoxiously celebratory synthetic horn blared inside her helmet.
[ CONGRATULATIONS ON BEING A PARENT! ]
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Her head jerked up.
[ IMPRINTING BEHAVIOR DETECTED. PRIMARY CAREGIVER IDENTIFICATION: CT-312 ]
“BARCA. Who— NO.” The celebratory horn sounded again. CT-312 stood silently in the kitchen, surrounded by the newly hatched creatures. She took a couple steps to the side and the two on the ground shuffled toward her. When she stopped moving, they stopped moving. Her helmet slowly tilted back up to the ceiling. Of all the complications she had expected when an unidentified crate arrived at the door… accidental parenthood was not on the list.
CT-312 looked down at the four tiny creatures gathered around her as though she were the only thing in the room that mattered. Her visor slowly lifted from the hatchlings toward the empty room ahead. Her body became completely still. “...How am I going to explain this to Quinn?”
