Seeing the human approaching, Vantolos broke off the conversation he was having with a Kaijank. As near as Dev could tell, the big biped was currently unarmed. It was the first time he had observed a member of its species not in possession of a possible weapon of some kind. As the Kaijank turned and departed, a furious Vantolos turned to confront Dev. Balancing precisely on two tentacles, it waved the other pair forcefully in the human’s direction.

“What are you doing here? You were told to remain in the living quarters that had been assigned to you! What are you doing here! Your living quarters are capable of supplying all your needs!”

Dev held his ground. In his own quiet way he was as frustrated as Gavin Reed.

“Not true. We need answers to questions, and our living quarters seem unwilling or unable to provide that.”

One tentacle dropped to the deck to change the Olone’s posture from bipedal to tripodal while the other continued to wave in Dev’s direction. “Any questions you may have will be answered if and when we find it appropriate and reasonable to do so. Until then, you were ordered to remain in your quarters!”

“Actually,” Dev countered tersely, “we were told to go to our quarters. Nothing was said about having to ‘remain’ in them.” He waved at the busy control center. “Nobody said we had to stay there. So in the absence of any specified prohibition, I thought I’d take a walk. And ask questions.”

Vantolos’s pupils contracted slightly. “You believe yourself to be clever by speaking in such a manner. I can tell. How clever would you believe yourself to be if you were to startle a Kaijank in another corridor, one uninformed about your presence here, only to then find yourself shot down. You could not explain yourself. You would not have time. Neither balanced, thoughtful communication nor patience is a quality for which the Kaijank are noted. They tend to be reactive rather than contemplative.”

Dev considered. “In other words, shoot first and ask questions later?”

The single waving tentacle dipped sharply, an emphatic gesture for sure. “A theoretical situation in which you or any of your companions could so easily be on the receiving end.”

“But I’m not in ‘another corridor,’” Dev pointed out. “I’m here, at the control center, talking to you.”

“A conversation uninvited and now to be terminated.” Rising, the tentacle tip jabbed back down the corridor from which Dev had emerged. The Olone’s voice rose. “Go back to your quarters! Now! Or suffer the consequences!”

“What consequences?” a new voice inquired.