Humans are Weird – Cold Sores
“Yeah, so I‘m pretty sure from what the medical computer says that this won’t be contagious but it’s a viral outbreak and I don’t know whether my implant works on skin conditions like this.”
Quilx’tch stood behind his commander as they listened to the slightly slurred voice of the audio only communication coming from the human who had locked himself in his quarters. The nutritional anthropologist was concerned. Any time the term viral out brake was used it was time for concern. But the human had willingly isolated himself and after all, human. It wasn’t like they were so fragile as to be taken out by their own internal microbes.
He signaled his approval of the course of action to the commander but held up one leg to stop him before the formal order was given.
“You mentioned that the symptom was visible on your face?” Quilx’tch asked. “This ‘cold sore’.”
“Yeah Quick,” the human responded. “It’s a doozy too.”
“A doozy?” Quilx’tch asked.
“Especially big and red.” The human explained.
Quilx’tch clicked in confirmation and rubbed his primary manipulators together, trying not to sound too eager, but the human seemed to hear it anyway. The human laughed.
“Do you really want to see it Quick?” He asked.
“It would be for science,” Quilx’tch insisted but he could not restrain the eagerness in his voice. “These types of surface irritations are rare amount chitenous species like ours for the mere reason that they can so easily be fatal and-“
His voice cut off and he bristled in horror as the human activated the visual connection. The human blinked in surprise and his face broke into an amused grin.
“Ya’ll’re so cute when ya puff up like that,” the human said.
“You are bleeding,” the commander said, his legs tight with disgust and fear. “You smiled and now you are bleeding from your mandibles.”
“Lips,” the human corrected, idly reaching up to dab at the blood and puss leaking from the lesion on his skin. “My mandible is inside and I only have one.”
“Pustule is covering nearly twenty percent of your visible endothelial surface,” Quilx’tch said when he could finally bring himself to speak.
“Yeah,” the human squinted at him in bland confusion as he replied. “If you say so I guess. I figured this’d freak you little guys out. You know cuz your exoskeleton integrity is so important to you. It’s why I decided to stay in till this healed. Suggested protocol from the Ranger Core.”
Quilx’tch quickly drew himself up into a less horrified stature. “Yes, yes, and as I recall human surface damage is not nearly so hazardous. So you are quite well? I can’t bring you anything to aid your recovery from the galley.”
“Well some of those fresh berries would be nice,” the human admitted. “Fresh fruit always has been a Navy man’s best friend.”
“I will pick some myself immediately,” Quilx’tch said, backing out of the room. “The commander can finish the communication.”
He was well aware that he had left the room with less dignity that he had ever possessed but he felt no qualms about leaving that revolting sight to the commander. He shuddered from hair tip to hair tip. Cold sores. Oh dear this was going to be a report and a half.
“Yeah, so I‘m pretty sure from what the medical computer says that this won’t be contagious but it’s a viral outbreak and I don’t know whether my implant works on skin conditions like this.”
Quilx’tch stood behind his commander as they listened to the slightly slurred voice of the audio only communication coming from the human who had locked himself in his quarters. The nutritional anthropologist was concerned. Any time the term viral out brake was used it was time for concern. But the human had willingly isolated himself and after all, human. It wasn’t like they were so fragile as to be taken out by their own internal microbes.
He signaled his approval of the course of action to the commander but held up one leg to stop him before the formal order was given.
“You mentioned that the symptom was visible on your face?” Quilx’tch asked. “This ‘cold sore’.”
“Yeah Quick,” the human responded. “It’s a doozy too.”
“A doozy?” Quilx’tch asked.
“Especially big and red.” The human explained.
Quilx’tch clicked in confirmation and rubbed his primary manipulators together, trying not to sound too eager, but the human seemed to hear it anyway. The human laughed.
“Do you really want to see it Quick?” He asked.
“It would be for science,” Quilx’tch insisted but he could not restrain the eagerness in his voice. “These types of surface irritations are rare amount chitenous species like ours for the mere reason that they can so easily be fatal and-“
His voice cut off and he bristled in horror as the human activated the visual connection. The human blinked in surprise and his face broke into an amused grin.
“Ya’ll’re so cute when ya puff up like that,” the human said.
“You are bleeding,” the commander said, his legs tight with disgust and fear. “You smiled and now you are bleeding from your mandibles.”
“Lips,” the human corrected, idly reaching up to dab at the blood and puss leaking from the lesion on his skin. “My mandible is inside and I only have one.”
“Pustule is covering nearly twenty percent of your visible endothelial surface,” Quilx’tch said when he could finally bring himself to speak.
“Yeah,” the human squinted at him in bland confusion as he replied. “If you say so I guess. I figured this’d freak you little guys out. You know cuz your exoskeleton integrity is so important to you. It’s why I decided to stay in till this healed. Suggested protocol from the Ranger Core.”
Quilx’tch quickly drew himself up into a less horrified stature. “Yes, yes, and as I recall human surface damage is not nearly so hazardous. So you are quite well? I can’t bring you anything to aid your recovery from the galley.”
“Well some of those fresh berries would be nice,” the human admitted. “Fresh fruit always has been a Navy man’s best friend.”
“I will pick some myself immediately,” Quilx’tch said, backing out of the room. “The commander can finish the communication.”
He was well aware that he had left the room with less dignity that he had ever possessed but he felt no qualms about leaving that revolting sight to the commander. He shuddered from hair tip to hair tip. Cold sores. Oh dear this was going to be a report and a half.
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