Duo had made no further reply, but he gave Krigg a full smile before she left.
Once the sound of her tiny footsteps had disappeared down the hall, the large robot tried to get a bit more comfortable. He subtly shifted closer to the wall, before relaxing his limbs and leaning back a little.
His lids felt sightly heavy as the instinct to rest and conserve his energy begun to set in, but he knew that wouldnât be wise. A black-and-turquoise energy burn still ringed around his neck, and stretching the damaged synthetic skin too far would cause him excruciating pain⌠he had to keep his head upright.
After a few moments of sitting in silence, a certain thought rose to the surface of his mind.
â(âŚI need to eat something.)â
This was a familiar craving to him. It always seemed to âtriggerâ every time he had taken a significant injury, but it was never so strong that he couldnât ignore it. Still - even though it could be safely disregarded, he knew that taking in additional energy would supplement his repair systems and improve his recovery time.
He gazed down at the radio on his chest for a moment⌠Krigg had told him to call her if he needed something, but he was reluctant to do so. He technically didnât âneedâ anything at all right now, and he didnât want to dip into Kriggâs supplies for something nonessential.
Just then, he heard the small speaker crackle to life. He pressed the touch dial to reply.
âIâm receiving you clearly on my end as well.â He said. ââŚ-do you have anything to eat?â He added without thinking.
ââŚEat?â
Kriggâs hands froze over the keypad of the Revenger in the middle of inputting a diagnostics and self command into the systems. Not that it would have been much use - it was easier to point out the parts of the holographic screens surrounding the cockpitâs interior NOT covered in bright red warning pop-ups. Regardless of any diagnostic the shipâs systems could make, sheâd have to go in blind and fix the biggest holes in the hull before worrying about the more finnicky little things.
âŚOh, yeah, where was she again? Ah, right. Eat⌠Eat???
Kriggâs head dipped back down to the communicator clipped to her jacket. She stared at it, as though it could provide her with context for the outlandish request, especially coming from a non-organic being. Then she realized sheâd been quiet for a handful too many seconds, and pressed the responding key.
âUuuhhh- I mean, I do have a pantry -â Which she wasnât too keen on sharing with him, if she could be honest. Given the size of the guy, his hypothetical appetite spooked her a little. âBut what do you mean exactly by that? Hydrocarbons, metal ions, liquid fuel? Or just regular food?â
It sounded weird that such a large, advanced âbot would need /food/ food - some organic compounds and metals to power his self-repair systems was more likely. But then again, a lot of species in the galaxy had unusual dietetary requirements, and didnât take well to galactic standard grub, instead requiring specific proteins in their diet to not go into shock or get sick. She was not sure that applied to him, though.
Either case, better safe than sorry. Space indigestion was no joke. âYou might need to give me pointers because food specificity is NOT something I want to chance!â
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