"Hey," you say, sitting down and picking up a mug from a nearby table. "You guys mind if I chill with you for a while?"

You take a deep slurp from the mug, commenting loudly, "Good tea."

"That's motor oil," comments a beetle-like technician, with no show of emotion.

"Hmmm," you say, swallowing hard. "Still good, though."

"Whatzzz are you tryingzzz to do?" asks a nearby alien, who looks like a swarm of sentient fruit flies.

"Just blend in, maybe make a few friends," you say desperately.

"To whatzzz end?"

"Well, I really want someone to help that cleaning bot," you say, your tone genuine, and concerned.

"No one herezzz will. Why don't you justzzz go and try yourself?"

That's a fine point.

You bid fairwell to your new "friends", take a quick detour to a bathroom to wash the machine oil out of your mouth, then make your way back to the docking bay, where you find the cleaning bot still prone.

Turn to page 24.