The alien conjured up another fancy hologram, ‘throwing’ it to Carthus. Was a simple command console or a control pad too much to ask for? Carthus examined the jagged lines on the projection, assuming it was meant to be the written form of their language. Maybe they should stick to hand signals. He placed his finger ‘on’ the knob and mimicked the alien’s  finger motion. The knob responded accordingly and, feeling a slight downward pull, quickly reached for his helmet. Progress! He was certain this would be the weirdest conversation of his life. Comparing the alien readout with his suit’s indication, he made mental notes on what he assumed was the alien writing until he reached the maximum the controls would allow - a little over half of the Narix standard.
“What’s up, commander, broken something already?” one of the marines commented, earning him a nudge from his comrade.

Letting go of the maxed out controls, Carthus hung his helmet from his utility belt and demagnetized his boots. The alien than fished something from its suit. It looked like a piece of the alien itself. Carthus reluctantly accepted it, and upon closer inspection, discovered the circuitry-like patterns lining it. The alien proceeded to gesture at its head, much to the Primarch’s confusion until he realized it was pointing right where his ears would be. This was a horrible risk. Not only he didn’t know what this suspicious piece of alien technology was, but as one of the highest-ranking starfleet officers, his head contained a lot of things the Narix wanted to keep a lid on. Even on the smaller scale, such as the presence of two pilots and fourteen marines in the shuttle, and the RTO periodically sending low-power, encrypted messages back to the Latanos to let them know all was well so far. Oh well, too late to back out now. Giving the device one last look, he attached it to his left ear and waited.