LF Friends, Will Travel

Out of Warranty Repair

Date: 55 PST (Post Stasis Time)

"But this is an upgrade, completely free. I don't understand the problem?"

Tchizak hovered behind the counter, his wings beating furiously to keep him above the ground and at eye level to the person opposite him. Like almost everyone else on the planet he was a Kirken: a brown 3ft tall insectoid who were the dominant species on the colony. This one was rubbing its four hands in annoyance, antenna twitching in that tell tale sign of someone completely done with the situation in front of them.

The room was a chaotic mix of shelving and piles of junk scattered around the small area. Wires, electronics, and mechanical parts were tossed around with no sense of order, each piece casting a long shadow in the dim grimy lighting. But this wasn't what was annoying Tchizak, nor was it the glowing canister of raw warp plasma being left dangerously open in the corner. These were just the day to day 'perks' of working at "Ptatch's tower of repair".

No, the annoyance came from the customer in front of him . A large towering bipedal mammal standing at over 6ft tall, arms of muscle that looked as if they could punch a hole through an exoskeleton, two piercing eyes set over a mouth filled with teeth made for grinding and tearing. This customer was a Terran, the first time Tchizak had ever seen one. It was also the most annoying illogical being he'd ever met.

"But I don't want a replacement. I came here get Cleany McCleanface fixed!"

That was the ridiculous name that the Terran had given to the XL Temco Clean Master that was brought in for repair. The autonomous cleaning drone was practically a relic, over 30 years old. The Temco company had long since gone defunct and fixing the machine would cost more than just buying a new one.

"Parts just don't exist for this brand anymore." Tchizak said with an annoyed tone, not understanding how this concept wasn't being understood. "It's not worth the repair. I'm only gonna charge you a standard repair fee so you're getting a huge discount on a far better product."

"The sign outside says you'll 'fix anything, guaranteed'. Replacing isn't fixing!" The Terran looked annoyed, the deep frown on his face verging on anger as he brought up the faded and scratched sign hanging outside the chaotic repair store. "Fine, just give it back and I'll go somewhere else."

"Sure, let me go check the back".

That would be a problem, as Tchizak had thrown the long out of warranty item into the trash this morning. Sure he could wade through the mass of scrapped parts and items that made up the dumpster outside their sketchy repair operation.... oooor the insect could do a move known to retail workers everywhere in the galaxy: Go to the backroom, take a 15 minute break and say you can't find it.

The backroom was even more of a complete catastrophe than the front room, as if a bomb had gone off inside a manufacturing facility. The scents of plasma, oil and other probably dangerous chemicals filled the air as Tchizak made his way through the half storage half repair area. Flight was quite literally the only way to move around the room, the floor and every piece of available shelf space being used up with parts, half working items and pieces of scrap.

At the back of it all stood a cramped workbench, also filled to the brim with various half finished repairs and wiring tools that had once seen better days. Sat at this workstation was another Kirken, tools in hand hovering over some piece of electronic equipment to be repaired; the titular Ptatch.

As Tchizak entered Ptatch looked up at his employee, noticing the annoyance emanating from the insect immediately

"Tough customer?"

"Yea, some weirdo who wants something worthless fixing. Refusing replacement for some reason."

"I'll deal with them. Could use a break anyway."