Sunday, May 14, 2090. In the cavernous security and operations control center deep in the belly of BetaMountain Goose laid his feet onto the console in front of him and snuggled back into his chair.
The Ops was mostly deserted. As it had been last year when he were scheduled to keep an eye on the security monitors because virtually everybody else had begged for leave to go see their mothers.
Not that he – Goose – would have minded getting a day off, too. It was just that he lacked the excuse for it. Resting his feet more comfortably against the console's casing while feeling under his chair for the king-size coffee mug he'd smuggled into the room – ever since Doc's "Milk shake incident" on Ranger-1 the commander "got electric" when he spotted a mug near a console – Goose waited for the show to begin.
Like every year, he wasn't going to get disappointed...
"No, Buzzwang!" Q-Ball's agitated voice shrilled through the empty corridor before he stormed into the focus of the security camera. "I already told you last year that I won't take gifts from you!"
"But–" The android following him was armed with a large bouquet of colorful flowers and a big heart-shaped box of chocolates. "–it's Mother's Day!"
"I won't take them!" QBall stormed down the corridor.
"Please wait, I–" Buzzwang gave chase and left the camera focus as well.
In the Ops, Goose panned the three cameras in question to find the one showing the next act of the annual soap opera. After endless 30 seconds, QBall finally rushed into the focus of L-37-N with Buzzwang high on his heels.
QBall stopped dead in his tracks to be run over by Buzzwang who couldn't stop in time without dropping the chocolates.
"For the last time, Buzzwang!" BETA's chief scientist, sitting flat on his butt, almost literally foamed as he stared up at the hand the worried bot extended after he managed to juggle both the chocolates and the by now rather tattered flowers into one hand. "I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER!!"
The android tilted his head. "Daddy?" he asked.
The monitor flickered and went dark. Gooseman cursed, slapping the casing of the offensive console and was rewarded with the monitor sputtering back to life...
...to show a big, clearly disapproving pink eye. ALMA.
=Don't snoop on civilians, Gooseman. You've been taught better than that.=
The ST offered the monitor a mocked salute. "Yes, Mom."
The screen went dark.
=That's my boy.=