(unfortunate real-life inspiration time!)
Considering how the aliens react to comparatively non-corrosive/hazardous materials, they must have either gone into DEFCON 1 or completely catatonic the first time a human vomited.
Other humans making sympathetic noises and cleaning up (*gasp* without even a hazard suit, the horror) while the aliens panic are completely optional
(No wonder the humans are insane, they’re full of hydrochloric acid strong enough to melt their own internal organs)
“We have lost spin,” said the Ch'ardva co-pilot.
“Oh no,” murmured Ambassador Patrice.
“You said this vessel never broke down,” wailed an aide, “that’s why we hired you!”
“There is first time for all, yes?”
Another aide was going through all their things, muttering, “Sick bags, sick bags,” to herself.
Patrice concentrated on her breathing. Picked something close. Something stable. Tried not to think about the mis-information her brain was giving her. Burped dangerously.
“The ambassador gets motion-sick,” said the first aide. “We didn’t want to cause any ups–”
Whoulp…
“Oooohhh…” winced the second aide, trying to net the flying globules with a terrycloth sack. “I am so sorry.” And gave her a piece of lemon peel to sniff.
Errant specks of effluvium landed on the more reactive parts of the Ch'ardva vessel. Where they sizzled.
Patrice finally got hold of a sick bag for the second round.
“You spit out acid?”
“Mild acid,” corrected an aide. “It’s one of the survival reflexes - to purge unhealthy food.”
“At least the rest of us keep our acidic internals on the inside,” growled the pilot. “Contain that lot before it hits the rest of the ship!”
Diverse alarms blared the Ch'ardva crew scrambled for cover suits and hazard-vacs. Pretty much all of them grumbled about even allowing such dangerous beasts on their ship in the first place.
“For the record,” Patrice gasped between bouts of retching, “this is an entirely involuntary res–” burp “–sponse.”
“Next time, keep your human things to a human vessel. Do you have any idea how hard it is to protect against toxics like you?”
“We’ll run you a nice deal on human-proof materials,” promised the first aide. “Discount wholesale.”
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