I am receiving no response from you. Jaldark, please come in.You need to effect repairs so that we can communicate. Jaldark, please come in. Jaldark, respond. Please. Tlaimon Kassant sipped a cup of hot jiksn. He had the late shift, the solitary shift, and he liked it that way. His people were known for their close-knit bonds and love of socialization, but Tlaimon was considered unusual in that he preferred his own company for a few hours every day. He considered his “oddity” a boon, as he was paid twice as much for being willing to go the entire night by himself. Most Intarians liked to work in huddled groups. All alone for the night. What a pleasant thing. Easy job, too; watching the monitor for things that seldom happened. Most ships communicated their arrival long before they showed up on the monitor. They were always eager to get to Intar. It wasn’t as well known in the quadrant as Risa, admittedly, but then, what planet was? Tlaimon stretched the retractable tentacles that served as arms for the Intarians and lazily brought the gaze of his multifaceted eyes toward the screen.
