Nico sat back down on the sofa, and pulled an overweight and fluffy cat into her lap, while Max looked up at the Lieutenant.
"We have a sitting room if you would like to contact your people in private. There is a radio there, programmable with your security codes, should your own communications equipment prove insufficient for the task." Max informed them as he rose to his feet.
"Thank you Commander. Given the circumstances, this might take some time. More disruptive events have been reported all over our territory, and most of them are still heavily besieged. Only this immediate region is considered somewhat stabilized, and that is partially thanks to your Mecha and your Crab allies." Willis replied.
"They're drones, actually. Non-sentient, highly capable robots, controlled by the Artificial Intelligence here aboard our ship." Max informed him.
Lieutenant Willis paused on his way to the private room. "Drones can do all that? I must say, human technology is every bit as impressive as I had heard from the history books. Do you use them to limit casualties among your own troops? Or are they precious and difficult to replace?"
"We use them for many different purposes, but there are some enemies that can turn them against us, so we are normally cautious about using them in situations where there are highly tech-adept opponents." Max replied.
"Wonderful. I will report it back to our leadership team. They were unaware that the crabs were entirely robotic, and had assumed that they were differing species of armoured crustaceans with somewhat advanced technology. It will greatly reassure them to know that the crabs are part of the human military contingent."
He retreated into the meeting room with the rest of his team, leaving only Gregory outside to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room as the door closed.
"You might as well take a seat. They will be a while with the explanation of what is going on. Would you like something to eat?" Max asked.
Gregory took off his helmet and set it on the floor beside one of the plush chairs across from Max. "If you can create foods that are suitable for my species, that would be wonderful."
"The Drones analyzed the food samples in the ruined buildings of your city. We have samples of a few dishes that are similar, and that our medical scans say your body is not allergic to. Whether it agrees with your palette is another matter entirely, though." Max chuckled.
Gregory laughed. "I've been eating fast food from the mall for decades, prepared by core school dropouts with no other applicable skills. If I can survive that, I am pretty sure I'll be fine with whatever you come up with."
Max brought out what the team thought was a suitable replica of the meals they found in the city, and Gregory began to laugh.
"I should have remembered that today was Legion Day. The stuffed bird, berry sauce, mashed roots and gravy are a traditional holiday feast." He explained as he tried to stifle his laughter.
"Well, I'm glad that you didn't have to miss out. If it is edible, we will offer it to the others, so you can all enjoy your holiday feast, despite being away from home." Max replied with a smirk.
Gregory delicately sniffed at the plate, then sighed and took a deeper breath before tentatively picking up the fork from among the selection of eating utensils provided. Nobody had thought to record those details when they had the crabs check the food selections for the Golden Legion, so Max hadn't been sure what sort of table manners they adhered to.
The first few bites were reluctant, but Gregory's face slowly morphed into a smile as he got through a bite of everything.
"This is incredible, it's like you stole someone's fresh dinner right out of the oven. Not my mother's obviously, but she's a terrible cook. I must say, your chefs must have been true savants to come up with a replicator program that creates such a rich flavour profile." He commended Max, while Nico preened with pride at the praise.
"I will be sure that she knows. The replicators are a marvel of human technology, and they're capable of creating food for nearly any species. Even our feline friends have found a dish that they love above all others." Max agreed.
The cats, on the other hand, were staring at Gregory's plate with something akin to lust. Max knew that their bodies couldn't properly digest half the things on that plate, but that didn't stop them from wanting it now that he was eating it.
"You know you can't digest that, why do you even want it?" Max asked the cat seated next to his head.
The feline hopped over to the tablet on the table and typed up a quick response.
[They feed us awful kibble at the kennel, so what they're eating has to be better than what we're eating.]
Max laughed. "But you just split a whole fried chicken with the others."
[His food still looks good, though.]
Max just shook his head at the stubborn cat, who was staring at Gregory's plate from across the table, and waited to see if the man was going to have any sort of strange reaction to it. The medical system said he wasn't allergic, but it didn't say that he wouldn't get a stomach ache or bad gas from the rich meal. There just wasn't enough data for that.
Of course, normally you didn't feed aliens entire replicated meals the moment you met their species, but that just wasn't the Terminus Trading Company way. Creating new dishes for everyone they met was a Company Tradition, and they hadn't killed anyone yet.
Max was just about to create a meal for the rest of the team to eat while they worked when a junior team member came out with a document on one of the silver serving trays from the coffee stand.
"Commander Max, our leadership has agreed in principle with your proposal without amendment. Here is the signed copy." He announced.
Max stood up to take the document, then shook his hand. "Good work. Now, let me bring out a celebratory feast for your Legion Day evening meal. Gregory has already verified that it is safe to eat."
