Archivists note to the reader: It seems you are viewing this item in the human language English. For this reason names have been transliterated, units have been converted, and the content has been ontologically translated. Apologies for any inconsistencies.
The volatus sat in the cockpit of the tiny ship, immersed in the systems and displays, numbers flickering though her consciousness, appendages expertly manipulating the various icons and controls. Mentally she interfaced with a telepathic hook imbedded within the computer in front of her, a little to the left, about 3 inches in. She was focused.
BOOM!
The volatus froze mid calculation, mind quickly switching focus to the connected multi purpose room.
The human grabbed his opponents throat and squeezed with every ounce of strength in his fingers. The other deathworlder wasn't going to have it, and grabbed his chin, heaving up, forcing the human to relinquish his grip.
Suddenly there was a shrill shriek that sounded like someone was dragging a hundred nails against chalkboard, and both the fighters released each other.
The volatus was perched in the doorway, glowing eyes boring into the two deathworlders. They hurriedly stood and dusted themselves off. The human looked down and away from the volatus.
The volatus spoke, words pronounced with best grammar and cleanest pronunciation possible with the amalgamation that is galactic common.
"Why are you two fighting? It is very distracting and completely unnecessary. Please stop."
The human's response was far less refined, showing a threadbare vocabulary, and the lack of syntax that spoke an ongoing acquisition of the language.
"We were... ", he searched for a word, "playing, sorry"
The volatus stared at the human, who was standing relaxed, and their companion, who was also relaxed. Neither showed any sign of aggression. Playing did not seem to be the right word for what they were doing, but the two didn't look hostile, what to do?
"Please refrain, the behavior is distracting."
She returned to the cockpit, tendrils curling in irritation.
Deathworlders were so wierd.