[Moosh da Outlaw]

"Oh ha ha, let's make a joke about the Slig not being bright. And I can hardly eat myself. I know you were being sarcastic, but seriously. I'm hungry. Oh, and a fat joke too. You've got enough belly yerself." The slig said, poking Skelter in the stomach.

Skelter crossed her arms. "Oh, nice one, yeah. Use the exact same joke against me, real clever. You must think you're a comic genius." she made a careless motion with her hand. "Run along now, tubby. You need to conserve your energy for eating."

"Excuse me," said the vykker clearly, "If you're not here for scientific or medical work, why are you here? Unless you've come simply to pick fights with the workers and cause trouble?"

Skelter turned so her back was to the slig. "I'd say thats pretty much it." she straightened. "Cept I got this one vykker who keeps screaming at me through a walkie-talkie telling me to get a job, so now I don't know what i'm doing."

Suddenly feeling exposed, Skelter turned away moodily.

---

"Hello Unknown Natives." said the robot. Ophelia's jaw dropped. "I am a all-purpose mechanical unit serial code RH-501, but I would prefer to be addressed as Digit. I have no records of your existence in any of my files. Would you care to identify yourselves?"

Ophelia, seeing as she was a tomboy extremist, was absolutely facinated by anything mechanical, including robots. She stuttered. Normally, Ophelia wouldn't stutter, but seeing as she was having a conversation with a robot, she decided to let it go. "I-i'm a grubb," she said slowly, "and this little idiot next to me is a mental case in a grubb's body." she pointed at Mola. Mola glared at her. Ophelia grinned.

"So.... you're a.... robot?"